Turkey: Istanbul

Our plane was taxiing to the terminal and I really had to pee. There is something about peeing on planes that freaks me out. I will wait as long as I humanly can.

By the time I found a washroom in the airport and got moving, the visa line was ridiculously long. We waited a total of two hours to get our visas and get through emigration. When we finally got through customs and connected to the net we discovered our accommodation had fallen through, and we needed to find something else. I was tired and annoyed; our first day in Istanbul was loooooong. I was cursing our decision to leave Asia, the land of cheap and relaxed.

When we finally booked a room, we laughed when we walked up to the door; It was broken, full of rust and spray painted with the name of the hostel. There were no windows, no signage and we thought we were at the back door when a staff came to let us in. The inside was a dilapidated cave-like building with a long living room area that you had to duck to get through. Our room fit only the bed. It was clean though, and the shower was hot. We collapsed on the bed and were asleep by 8:30.

We woke early the next day, ready to explore (my mood was much improved!) We started walking down our road when we witnessed two older men shouting at each other in a cloud of blue cigarette smoke. One was a salesman, the other a customer. Hands were flying and the discussion became louder and more rapid. Steve and I exchanged glances and looked at our feet, giving them a polite amount of space so we could skulk away, when one slapped the other on the back and smiled. We witnessed this type of conversation a few more times until we realized that the Turks are just very passionate people! They speak with caps lock on. It has become an inside joke for us to give them English overdubs:

"HOW ARE YOU?"
"IS YOUR MOTHER WELL"
"HOW MUCH FOR THIS SWEATER?"

It's all in good fun.

We had a fabulous time exploring Istanbul. The mix of religions and ethnicities (Kurds, Iranian, Turkish, Eastern European) is fascinating, and the food that comes out of it is amazing! We tried to stick to hawker food, and ate an amazing variety of donairs, turkish pizza, turkish delights, and all sorts of yogurt enhanced food that we can't pronounce. It's been my favorite food of the trip so far!

We saw a good many sights in Istanbul (which I will post separately). Some of our favorite things though have just been people watching. We passed through a feminist protest where the riot police were set up with full gear and water cannons (no pics of that one, since we hurried out of there!) and overheard some interesting opinions on the roles of women. As a woman it's been interesting to have to make conscious decisions about "modest clothing", but I haven't found it to be oppressive or negative. It's been a great learning experience and I appreciate knowing how I can show respect in new lands.

Although Istanbul started out a little rocky, we are falling in love with Turkey, the land of amazing scenery, history, and culture.

In the next post I will give a quick rundown of what we saw in the city. It was a very packed 4 days!

Kuala Lumpur: a quick trip

We were sad to leave Rescue, but excited to keep adventuring. Next stop: Kuala Lumpur before heading to Turkey.

KL is a big city. It is the heart of Malaysian pride: a strong economy and infrastructure. We only had two days to explore, so we made the most of them. We visited the Batu Temple ( in the pouring rain) the petronas and KL towers, and the world's 6th largest shopping mall ( west Ed is 13th now, but still way better than this one).

We rode the tram around the city ( we are professional transit users now) and saw the sights. The one thing that we found the most dazzling: the thousands of perfectly lined palm trees. Malaysia is the worlds #1 supplier of palm oil.

It was a cool two days despite the heat. Our favorite part was taking pictures at the towers. Just beautiful!

After that it was a 7 hour flight to Abu Dhabi where we spent a painful 10 hour layover in an uncomfortable air port chair. There was no room in the hotel ( for a cool 240 American) and we couldn't leave because Canadians can't get visas on arrival there. The worst part was the airport chairs all had arms so you could t lay across them. I was glad to leave!

We are in Turkey now, enjoying the marvelous sights and tastes.

More on that later!


Batu caves:

KL tower (lookout point):

Twin towers:

Cambodia: Place of Rescue (stories)

Life is hard to capture in words. It blinks; the writer tries to fill in the gaps, group experiences into organized paragraphs and create syntax and order out of random chaos. A story must have a central thread. Life must have meaning.

I'm not trying to open this blog with an introduction to an essay on existentialism. Rather, our time at Rescue makes me wish my writing was better. Trying to capture a moment in words is difficult, especially when there are plenty of moments; I find myself getting lazy, sliding in adjectives and adverbs to do the hard work instead of chewing on a sentence that will actually take me back there.

Oh well.

I promised stories.

The Birthday Party:

Trakuan spent the day bent over the oven. Damp tendrils of hair clung to her face. She was making pies. We were amazed she could stand to be near any more heat-- the temperature was almost in the 40's, and we were dizzy with heatstroke.

It was her friend's birthday, one of the house mums; a mother to 10 boys. Trakuan wanted to celebrate her. A secret party was to be held at 9:30. Pies and gifts and friends. We were invited to come along.

At 9:15 a gaggle of teenagers crowded in Vidiya's house. They put candles in the pie and filled balloons to the bursting point. The kids spoke in loud whispers as we filed out of Vidiya's and around the corner. We arrived at the door; one of the Mum's sons went inside to make sure she was decent and could receive visitors. "Ready?" The kids hissed through the door. "No!" He said. We waited. More excited whispers. A head popped through the door again. "Ready?" "No." Sigh. Some of the kids started to get antsy and began shoving each other. The candle flame burned low. Finally, the door opened. The house mum was thrust through the door and after a delayed moment balloons were popped and a loud happy birthday was sung. The house mum put her hands over her heart and caught her breath; she thought her sons had forgot her birthday. She was really touched.

We all went into the house and the boys spread out the eating mats. In Cambodia, people eat on the floor. We sat in a circle as Trakuan handed out food and the mum opened her gift: a beautiful dress. She ran into her room to try it on. "Everyone, look at our beautiful mom!" One of her sons yelled as she came back into the circle in a dress that fit beautifully.

We ate happily as we talked. The boys made fun of Steve, who had a habit of saying "oooooh" when responding to something he couldn't quite understand from some of the boy's English. They all chorused "oooooh" together and then made howling dog sounds and broke out laughing. Steve joined in and would begin howling everytime he caught himself saying it again. It was good fun, but it's started me in a bad habit-- I howl in my head whenever I hear him doing it.

After dinner we rolled up the mat and the boys cleared the dishes. I looked around the room at the bunk beds neatly stacked against the walls, and glimpsed the sight of some younger boys, fast asleep and unaware of our being there.

We said good night and the house mum thanked everyone. Her boys lined up to hug her, putting their arms around her affectionately. What a beautiful family. What a beautiful act of love and community. What a beautiful place of rescue.


Movie Night

Vidiya was leaving that Sunday. After a year teaching at Rescue it was time to go home so the organization funding her could assess her health and make sure she wasn't burning out. If all went well she hoped to come back for a year, but it wasn't guaranteed.

She threw a BBQ for the older students. We sat outside her house under the decorations the students made, hanging candle holders cut from pop cans strung above our heads. They cooked fish on the BBQ and we visited. Although uninvited, tiny kids wormed their way over to where we were sitting and demanded our attention. They climbed on us like we were human jungle gyms. They demanded pictures and were fascinated with their images on the screen. We finally had to put the camera away because they were fighting eachother for their turn in the spotlight which ended with lots of tears. It's hard to explain the concept of "turn taking" when you don't speak the language!

When dinner was ready we gathered on the floor at Vidiya's and ate. It was a feast of papaya salad, a cambodian spicy salad, fried rice, fish and chicken. It was great to watch the kids joke with their teacher. They were truly blessed by her.

After dinner one of the kids brought out a guitar and played for us. A few of the boys sang some Cambodian songs and a few church songs. One of the boys began to sing amazing grace when another poked him in the ribs and said " teacher Vidiya's said that song is for dead white people." We all laughed. They passed the guitar to us and we shared a few songs; a few we wrote, and a few worship songs. The kids were very sweet and excited to learn new English words to sing along to.

After we played for a bit we packed back into the house to watch a movie: Iron Man 2. We used a projector from the school and put it up on the wall. The kids pulled out their favorite treat, black jellies. It was an odd desert. It was kept in a large cooler and the kids would ladle out the moist strips of licorice-like gummies, and then pour sweetened condensed milk over it. It was eaten with a spoon like cereal. It was not our favorite, but the kids loved it!

The movie was a hit. It was cute to watch the reaction of the kids as their brains translated the English jokes. After a delay some of the kids would burst out laughing. Some rapid translating would happen and the laughing began again. Laugher is such a gift. We went to bed feeling light.

Music!

The day after Vidiya's party, we went to her house to hang out. A few boys were there using her kitchen--she would often let them practice their cooking in her house because there was more room to learn. One of the boys, Huong, grabbed his guitar and began playing the songs we played for them the night before. He had memorized the positions of our hands on the guitar. He played and we sang; he was very happy to jam. We invited him to come over to Marie's the next day for a jam session, and we said we would get lyrics printed of the songs we had sung.

The next day Houng came over with his guitar, and I gave him the lyrics to blessed be your name, and open the eyes of my heart, the two English worship songs we had played with him. "What about this song?" He said as he began strumming and humming. I laughed. "That's not a real song, that's just a silly song I wrote." I said. "I want it." He said. It turned out to be his favorite one to play. I was very touched and encouraged by that. I told him to learn it well and make it the next Cambodian hit when he got famous!

After we played for a while he asked Steve to teach him how to solo. Steve showed him how to do hammer-ons and pull-offs by teaching him the intro to "Tears in Heaven" . It is a tricky lick but the next day Houng showed up and played it for us perfectly. He had stayed up all night practicing. He has only been playing guitar for three months, but he is an incredibly fast learner and very committed. I wish I would have taken my lessons that seriously as a kid!

By the time we left, Hong had learned three new songs and was really excited. In exchange he taught us how to speak a few Khmer words. We really enjoyed a relaxed time playing music and getting to know new friends.



Our week at Rescue has come to an end. The stairchair is finished and as I write this I am sitting on the plane to Kuala Lumpur. There are alot of things to process about our visit-- but all good things. Despite being an orphanage filled with sad stories, it really is a place where normal life happens. Kids can be kids there. Healthy and happy. No one dwells on the past but instead find healing through community and become inspired to be the future of Cambodia. I have much to learn from the way these people view life: as a gift that matters.












Beautiful view from Marie's veranda:

Crazy kids!

Birthday party:

Jammin:

Cute kids:

Handy bug eater:

Flexible cow:

A wonderful home!

Cambodia: Place of Rescue

I was speechless. Sitting on a purple chair in the windowless sanctuary of my church, I rubbed my husband's back as he sobbed. It was the third time I had ever seen him cry: once during a break up, and when I walked toward him on our wedding day.

Marie Ens, a sweet eldery woman, had given a presentation on Cambodia. We sat through many of these before-- terrible images of poverty and stories about people living in a far-off land in unimaginable circumstances. But this talk was different. Marie was real. She said it like it was, and the pictures and stories were not packaged neatly to play on our emotions, but rather they identified a very real problem in our very real world.

That day has sat on our hearts.

Trip planning began with the new year, and while we were making hasty decisions about visiting this place or that place, it seemed we would be rolling through Cambodia. As I mentioned in the previous post, Rescue does not regularly have volunteer programs, so we thought at the very least perhaps we could have coffee with Marie and say hello. We emailed her, and regretfully, she was scheduled to be in Canada while we were passing through. But she did need a favour. Almost 80, Marie is slowly preparing her home for the day her young spirit doesn't quite match her physical body. She bought a stair lift to install on her Veranda steps to help her get up to her house (In Cambodia, houses are built high up on stilts so that the underside can be used as a place to escape the heat of the day, while the upper level is used for sleeping). Normally, her top maintenance man Kim would have completed the task, but the darn instructions were written in English, so there had been some complications.

Marie offered to let us stay in her home and have her housekeeper Trakuan (pronounced Tah-koon) make us meals and look after us. It was an offer we couldn't refuse!

We arrived at the centre on a Tuesday by Tuk Tuk. It is an hour from the city and the drive was beautiful; a flat landscape with spiky palm trees, and a mix of small villages and farms. We were greeted by Vidiya, a feisty Trinidadian-Canadian who had just completed a year of english teaching at the centre and was wrapping up her time there to go home. She helped us get settled in "Myay's" house (That's Cambodian for Grandma, which is what Marie is called by everyone at the centre).

We carried our things up the stairs, and were welcomed into Marie's cozy home. A small, wood paneled Cambodian house with two rooms joined by the bathroom, a kitchen, and a living/dining area. We were introduced to Trakuan, a beautiful Cambodian who serves as Marie's right-hand woman.
That night she made us an amazing Cambodian meal and we ate while we watched the sun go down from Marie's veranda.

The next morning we were up and rearing to go at eight, which we thought was pretty good, until we realized that everyone starts their day at 5 or six. By the time we woke up, the house-moms had already been to the market and back; a trip they make each day for meals as there is no refrigeration in their homes, keeping in tradition with the Cambodian lifestyle.

After breakfast, Vidiya gave us a tour of the grounds. Rescue is in a rural community bordered by small farms. It has a long, red driveway that leads to Marie's house, which is just outside of the main Rescue gate. On the other side of the fence the road continues, looping to the right, which is where the AIDS hospice homes are, and continues to the main recreation area that has a vollyball net, basket ball court, and covered cement pad for rainy days. The quad is squared in by the houses the kids and grannies live in. School rooms are in a long buiding toward the back, and there is a soccer field.

On the back side is a lagoon where water is collected and used to supply the houses. It goes through an on-site purification process, and used for household uses and showering. Drinking water is bought.

Electricity is mainly solar powered, which means that during the day there is no electricity in most the buildings while the system charges to provide power and light at night. Water is also only turned on at certain times to allow for the purification process. A few key buildings are powered by electricity from the town, but even that power supply is subject to brown-outs, a common part of Cambodian life.

As we explored, kids came to say hello. They loved to practice their English, although some were nervous because teacher Vidiya was with us and she wouldnt let them get away with silly mistakes!

The heat in April is unreal. April is the hottest month. We sat in the shade on a large swing and chatted with Vidiya until one of the grannies came to say hello. Known to the kids as "Grandma Frog", she was a woman with a wild streak. Her approach was innocent enough: she looked cute and sweet. She motioned for Steve to move over so she could sit with us. Worming in between us. she reached over and grabbed Steve's hand. Steve and I exchanged a moment with our eyes as I inwardly sighed at how cute it looked. We continued chatting with Vidiya. Grandma's hand moved to his knee. We chatted some more. Her hand moved to his thigh. We chatted. As it started to move again, Steve finally broke conversation with a snort and grabbed her hand. We all noticed what was going on and laughed. Naughty grannie!! She laughed devilishly but settled for PG hand-holding. From then on, everytime she saw us in the courtyard she would head for the swing and wave at Steve.

The chair installation turned out to have it's fair share of snags. An install attempt had previously been made, but the chair suffered a bit of a beating. The rail was mounted incorrectly and the chair had some broken switches and thingy-ma-bobbers (I lack the intellegnce to convey exactly what the issue was), so Steve had to exercise his genius and do some rewiring.

In all, the job should have been fairly simple, but a part needed to be sent into a repair shop. While we were waiting we got to enjoy meeting people.

Visiting here was a real introduction to Cambodian culture. To be honest, some things were a culture shock! For example, here, when someone cooks you dinner, the polite thing to do is eat everything on the table (not just your plate). Otherwise, the chef might think you don't like it. Us, on the other hand, felt rude eating everything. At home you would never eat the last chicken breast or pork chop out of politeness; we assume the host will want left overs. However, after fighting with ourselves we finally caught on. It wasn't too hard to be polite.... Trakuan is an amazing cook!

Staying in Marie's home gave us an unique look into Rescue that we might have not otherwise had. It allowed us to get to know Trakuan, who we feel so blessed to have met; she is such an incredible person. Her english is pretty good, but of course there are sometimes communication breakdowns, like when I said her food was so good she was going to make us fat. She thought I meant I was literally worried that her food was making me fat (something that only westerners are concerned about) so I wasn't ging to eat it, which of course would make her feel bad. I laughed and tried to explain my joke. I realized that jokes in english are tough for english language learners.

Trakuan is 31 and has been working here for five years. She lives in a suite under Marie's house. When asking about working for Marie, she almost couldn't speak. You could hear her heart swelling at the thought of Marie, making her emotions cloud the right words to say in english. She met Marie through a US couple that was helping her find work. Trakuan told us she prayed to God to help her find a place where she could work with people and learn to cook. In a dream, she saw Marie. When she finally met her she was blown away and knew that she was supposed to work at Rescue.It has been an amazing place to be. She truly believes that God brought her and Marie together, and I'm sure Marie feels the same. Blessings are sometimes bittersweet though. Wistfully, Trakuan said she is sad she didn't come to Marie as a younger woman so she would have maybe had the chance to go to school. At the age of ten her mother died and she began to work. She never had the chance to go to school. She can read her language, but cannot write. At night and in the morning she tries to study on her own and is slowly making progress.

Meeting Trakuan has really touched our hearts. She is selfless and caring-- we watched her work tirelessly to look after not only us, but her friends and others around the compound. She is soft spoken but light hearted. We enjoyed listening to her sing Cambodian songs while she cooked for us and laughed along with her everytime she broke out into a hearty laugh. We are grateful to have made a new friend!

Along with getting to know Trakuan better, we have also had the opportunity to meet some of the youth and I was lucky to be able to be part of some of the English classes, which I feel has really impacted me both spiritually and professionally.

There have been some really amazing moments here at Rescue, so instead of cramming them all into this post I will write them into the next one.

Stay tuned!

Captions:

1. The view from Marie's veranda.
2. Sunset.
3. Marie's house.
4. Neighbours harvesting rice by hand.
5. The aids houses and road leading in.
6. Grandma Frog
7. Trakuan and Steve
8. The stair chair.

Cambodia: Place of Rescue (Prolouge)

A few years ago, a woman came to visit our church to share the work she was doing overseas in Cambodia. Her presentation was so inspiring that we find ourselves sitting in her home, writing this blog entry.

Her name is Marie Ens; this year she turns 80 years old. Originally from Canada, she began working in Cambodia in the 60's. That's roughly 50 years.

The History of Cambodia:

To give you some perspective on the type of work Marie does, I would like to share some facts about Cambodia. Known for the amazing temples of Angkor, Cambodia was once a mighty empire that ruled much of Thailand, Laos and Vietnam. However, the golden age of Cambodia crumbled with the fall of the ancient Angkor empire, and in modern times has seen war, genocde, and poverty. It is one of the poorest countries in Asia, with the average Cambodian living on 2 dollars a day. In 1962, Vice President Nixon authorized the secret bombing of Cambodia in order to aid the US fight with the Vietnamese in the Vietnam war, which killed 250,000 Cambodians (It's important to note that Cambodia was not part of the war, it was a neutral country). In 1975 a guerrilla warfare group lead by Pol Pot, called the Khmer Rouge, marched into Phnom Penh (the capital) and turned the whole country into a prison. In 1977 he ordered a purge of the nation's educated citizens in order to turn the country into a peasant's republic-- basically the country could operate under complete communist rule without any blowbacks from the educated population. It is unknown how many people died, but work being done to calculate the loss estimates it was close to 2 million. In 1979 the Vietnamese army liberated Cambodia from the Khmer Rouge, sending the red party into hiding, but not surrender. For the next three years there was a famine because of the dislocation of the rural populations-- no rice was planted to feed the popultion-- and many people died. Civil wars against the retreating Khmer Rouge continued until 1991, when the UN finally stepped in and supervised an election. The aftermath of the war was devastating. There was no infrastructure left. The educated people were tortured and killed. With the arrival of the UN came hope, but it also brought AIDS/HIV, courtesy of UN soldiers.
(Dates and timeline from Lonely Planet Travel Guide)

In Cambodia today, the scars of the war are still raw. People walk around deformed becasue of bombs and landmines. In Khmer culture, children of the elderly care for them, but here many do not have living children. There is an army of kids roaming the streets because their parents lived through such tragic and incomprehensible events that the cycle of suffering continues. One article referred to Cambodia as being in a collective state of post traumatic stress disorder, and I think that description is apt. Child soldiers now have children. People are numb and the mighty dollar is ruler. Cambodia is the world's hot spot for sex trafficking, especially of children and infants. Kids are sold into brothels. By day, they play in the street and act like normal kids. At night, they are abused so violently and horrifically that it's amazing they survive. While prostitution is illegal in Cambodia, the police are corrupt and police-mafia rings are the major driving force of these brothels. When a child escapes, it is more likely that the police will find them and return them for a fee, rather than rescuing them and demanding justice.

I don't write this to depress you or sensationalize the state of the country. I simply think that context is important.

Place of Rescue:

After serving as a missionary for most of her life, Marie, a widow, was asked by the agency supporting her missions work to retire and come home, as she was in her sixties. She did, but felt Cambodia was her true home. She returned to live on her pension in Cambodia, and with a group of compassionate Cambodian friends started caring for people dying of AIDS. The group soon realized a harsh reality--AIDS victims leave people behind, especially children. Soon she founded the Place of Rescue. It provides a range of care including an orphanage, AIDS hospice care, and elderly care.

After living in Cambodia for so long, Marie truly recognizes the need for sustainability. Fluent in Khmer language and culture, Marie understands that what Cambodia needs is moral, educated Cambodian citizens. To ensure that Rescue preserves the intricacies of Cambodian culture, everything is done by Camodians. Marie is the only expat permanently living on site at Rescue 1. The only work western volunteers are allowed to participate in are the occasional summer english camps and 3 month English teaching stints. The rest of the work is done by locals. There is a local council that oversees operations and local staff take care of all building, mantience, childcare, etc. This creates jobs as well as helps the community to become a part of the work being done.

Currently there are 3 rescue sites. Marie has a small house at the main site just outside of Phnom Pehn. At this site there are around 200 children. The kids are mainly AIDS orphans and victims. Within the grounds, the actual operation is a tightly run ship. The children are assessed, and placed into houses. Each house is ran by a "house mum", who acts as a foster mother. However, to the kids, she is simply "mom". These women are paid a fair Cambodian salary, but some began their time at Rescue as AIDS victims seeking help, and are now able to live a healthy and active life because of medical care. Each house has 10 children. The kids attend school, Khmer public school, as well as English lessons supplied on site. The children in these houses stay in their homes and operate as a family unit until they are ready for University or the workforce. The kids receive continued care, training, and support after they are ready to move on. There is a university house in Phnom Phen called House of Dreams that helps kids transition into life outside of Rescue.

Aside from orphans, Place of Rescue also cares for destitute grannies who would otherwise be homeless. It also sponsors AIDS families. Small houses on site contain entire families that require support because illness. This is an amazing way to keep families together while also providing hospice care. Altogether Place of Rescue houses over 500 people, and Marie's goal is to keep the number rising.

To keep this amazing place going, there is a Canadian foundation branch of Place of Rescue that collects donations and funding and manages the funds. It is run by Marie's son in Law, Blaine, who lives in Calgary.

What I love about this centre is the incredible heart that the people involved have, and that the goals are to empower people, create loving communities, and be ethically accountable. Sadly, while the numbers of orphans in Cambodia are decreasing, the amount of children in orphanages are increasing. This is thanks to volunteer tourism, a black niche market aimed at getting tourists to visit orphanages and donate food and supplies. Often the children are abused, do not attend school so they can dance and entertain tourists, and some are separated from their families illegitimately to gain more numbers. Supplies and food are sold back to the stores and the money fills the hands of the mafia. Thankfully, Place of Rescue is a well run and accountable organization, and is a great model of effective, sustainable help in Cambodia. To avoid supporting the shadier orphanages, researched and ethical volunteering is important. NGOs and organizations should be transparent and accountable to a legitimate partnered organization or accredited.

Now that you have been introduced to Marie, Cambodia, and Place of Rescue, stay tuned for the next post: Our adventure at Place of Rescue!



For more information on Place of Rescue, please visit:

http://www.placeofrescue.com/

Cambodia: Siem Reap

The morning we left Bangkok was cool with a green haze that hovered in the sky above the overpasses and sky scrapers. We slept in. Our taxi bounced along the road, the driver confused as he doubled back and fourth, guessing which station we meant with our poor Thai pronunciation.

When we finally arrived the train pulled in and we were packed into dusty train cars with open windows. No air conditioning. There were no signs as as the train pulled away; Steve went from person to person to ask if they knew where we were going. One man pointed at his ticket and shouted "No no no! You get off NOW!". Steve tried the next person. They nodded. We rode the whole six hours to the border with butterflies. We wouldn't fully know if the train was right until we got there-- or didn't

One thing I've learned about trains is that they are great for people watching. A young couple sat across from us, but they hardly noticed when we said hello. They gazed at eachother and smiled. He cradled her in his arms so she could sleep, even though he looked hot and uncomfortable.

Two seats up, a group women hawkers plunked down. Dark, crinkled faces cracked smiles at one another as they laughed loudly and teased each other. They sat oblivious to the strange looks from the poised city people with quiet smiles and good manners. In Asian culture it is seen as impolite to disrupt or bring attention to oneself.

A third of the way to our stop, Steve pulled out a bag of chips to share. We didn't have time to have breakfast and our stomachs were complaining loudly. As we ate, the man who yelled at Steve came sauntering up and crouched beside Steve. Speaking in Thai, he breathed soft words and put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I don't understand." Steve said. The man knelt down and folded his hands and bowed to Steve, ducking his head up and down. Uncomfortable, Steve patted him and tried to help him up. The man grabbed Steve's hand and kissed it, and went and joined the couple sitting across from us. Steve and I exchanged puzzled looks. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. What the heck was that all about? Maybe he felt bad for yelling? We shrugged and carried on eating until the man grunted again, and pointed to our chips. I guess he had made up and figured we were friends. Time to share! We reluctantly gave the man our breakfast, and he sat eating happily, licking his fingers and chewing loudly.

When we finally arrived at the border town in Thailand (high fives for the right train!) it was game on. Land crossing is more difficult than air because there are way more opportunities for scams. When we got off the train we had to hire a tuk tuk to take us to the boarder; a ten minute drive. We negotiated our price and hopped in. We drove a ways until the driver pulled into the parking lot of a Thai consulate. An official met us at the tuk tuk, and with perfect English he said " Hello! Welcome. My name is ___ and I'm here to help you get your visa for Cambodia. Just follow me and this will be quick." "No thanks." I said firmly. " we have our visa already." (Which was a lie). The man's smile turned into a scowl. He spoke in Thai to the driver who loaded us back into the tuk tuk. "Can you take us to the boarder?" Steve asked. " No. You walk from here" the driver said when got back to the road. We got out and walked. Fake visa processing is a huge scam in Thialand. The drivers will take you to a fake office where you pay triple the cost of a Cambodian visa that won't work. We had researched ahead of time and luckily we weren't fooled. But many others were.

We walked across the boarder and finally got our visas on arrival, in time to dodge the next scheme. In Cambodia, there is a huge mafia control on tourist transportation. At the arrival gates there is free shuttle service to the bus station that is mafia controlled. The police will stand there trying to intimidate tourists to take the bus. If you try to take a taxi, the police and the mafia will try to force you to use their drivers, and will take two thirds of the fare, so the price is again triple the rate. We wanted to try and avoid this, so we decided to walk out of the shuttle zone, get far away from the mafia zone , then flag down our own taxi. That was a crazy idea. From the moment we started walking away we had people hassling us. "Where you go?" " we're having lunch and then staying here in Poipet with a Friend" I lied. " ahhhh.. Good luck" said one of the men. He knew something we didn't.

We walked for about ten minutes when a car drove up. "Where you go?" Asked the driver. We looked around. The coast looked clear. "Siem Reap. How much?" The magic words. More men appeared; we had been followed. " 30 dollars" he said. We told him maybe. We would go price out a bus and come back if we wanted him. We started to walk away, but one of the men followed. "The bus is very expensive. You take this taxi." He said. He seemed friendly enough. " We will decide what we are going to do later. For now we will go find some food." Steve replies. But the man kept walking. After a few long minutes Steve asked " Why are you walking with us?" The man mumbled a few things but didn't reply. We looked behind us and saw the taxi following a block away. we look back at the man. We asked him to go away; he was making us feel uncomfortable. We would not take his friend's taxi. He lagged behind and we turned off the road. The taxi came up again and we told him what we told our stalker. "That man is a bad man. He just wants me to pay him if I drive you, but it's ok. I will just pay him a little." Just as I started to reply I saw the mafia man apper again. He looked angry and we got anxious. I told the driver to wait there and we would come back in half an hour (my attempt to get away). We were close to the bus stop. He agreed and we walked quickly to the station. We tried to price things out but the same lies. "No busses to Siem Reap. Take my friend's taxi." Just when I thought we were going to have a whole army of people trailing us, a young man in a car spotted us and pulled up. "Come with me. 25 dollars and straight to Siem Reap". He was alone and he was our only hope. We jumped in. He drove away with a bunch of angry people shouting after us and the other taxi driver sped toward us, yelling at our driver. He was very calm though, he just smiled and made a few turns until we were alone again. His name was Panait. We stopped to fill up with gas and he was very good at making us feel comfortable, explaining where he was going, how long filling up would take, and getting Steve to accompany him when he had to open the trunk with our bags inside to fuel up. He turned out to be a great guy and we hired him for the next few days to be our driver. We felt really lucky to have him show up because we could tell he truly cared about our safety, and he wanted to be our friend. A big thanks to the big guy for sending him to rescue us!

The next morning we got up bright and early, ready to explore the amazing ruines of Angkor. Angkor Wat is the most famous, but there are several ancient temples in the area, too many to see in one day. The weather was a balmy plus 38, so we opted for a one day tour and tried to fit as many in as we could. We started with Angkor Wat and were speechless. It is considered to be the mother of all the temples, and the most holy. Thought to be dedicated to the god Vishnu, there are over 3,000 carvings in the stone and it is surrounded by an enormous moat, hand dug. Visitors are allowed to walk through the narrow hallways and it was amazing. The temple is very well preserved, and the symmetry an detail was inspiring. The only downside was the crowd. When we finished we went to Angkor Thom, a fortified ancient city capital. It has large peaks with faces carved in, watching over the city; 216 in total. The last temple we visited was Ta Prohm, which was our favorite. It is no surprise that Tomb Raider was filmed there. It is a peaceful place that showcases the force of nature; overgrown trees invade the stones, wrapping themselves around them and sending out roots. The trees there have been growing wild for 400 years. Built in 1186, it is a maze of crumbling stones.

Our visit to the temples took most of the day with a quick stop for lunch. We invited Panait to join us and he taught us how to say a few words in Khmer, which we promptly forgot. Being a Khmer ( the Cambodian name for Cambodians ), he is an expert on local food, and showed us what to order. We ate a type of seaweed soup, which is believed to help cool the body on hot days. I tried my best to be polite, and gulped down several spoonfuls of seaweed. Panait was not fooled by my glass face though and laughed at me. He could tell it would take this farang some getting used to. As we ate Panait told us a bit about himself. He had wanted to become a monk, but as the second eldest of ten kids he had to work to help his family. He grew up helping on relatives rice farms, and with some of the money he saved up to put himself through school and learn English. He has had every type of job in Cambodia- construction, farmer, butcher, waiter, tour guide etc. his goal is to pay off his car and start his own tour guide business, free from the black market. When we hired him to be our driver for two days he was over the moon. He loves to work, and has a three year old son to support.

On the second day we were all set to visit the floating village on the outskirts of town, when we decided against it. The lake is mostly dried up this time of year and sadly the market has become one big scam-- costing 40 dollars US to hire a boat that tries to get you to visit schools an orphanages in order for you to stop at the local store to buy gifts. The supplies are all marked up, and after you visit the school the adults take the gifts away and resell them back to the store to get money. We'd had enough of the mafia so when we looked into it a little better we decided not to.

We went to a Landmine museum instead founded by a Cambodian man who had been a child soldier with the Khmer Rouge, the Cambodian revolution army responsible for the large genocide in the 70's. He had been a soldier in charge of placing land mines in the fields. Kids would be given as much as they could carry, and if any were left over at the end of the day one of the kids would be executed. After the Vietnam invaded he was caught and became a soldier with the Vietnamese, and eventually a soldier with the Cambodian Forces after Vietnam turned the country back over to the Cambodian government. It was then he began clearing landlines to make Cambodia a safer place and as a sort of penance for the harm he had caused. Up until a few years ago, landmines were responsible for 250,000 deaths and injuries a year. Now the number is 150. There is estimated to be 3 million active landmines left in Cambodia.

We finished up a sobering morning with a lighthearted visit to a silk farm. We got to see how the worms are fed mulberry leaves and grown into caterpillars that make cocoons. The cocoons are boiled and spun into silk. The farm does every step of the silk process in-house, and employs the local village at fair wages and is certified as a sustainable, economically and ethically friendly tourist spot, which is a bonus.

Cambodia is a beautiful country, flat, and hot, with dusty red roads and fields. With such beauty is always the looming dark side, but there is alot of hope here. Every developing nation faces strife that make us westerners feel sympathetic. But here specifically I can't help meeting someone like Panait and imagining all of the tragedies he has seen in his lifetime, after decades of war and death and corruption. I want to put the naked kids I see running around as a commodity for passing tourists in my pocket. It is a heavy and humbling feeling, to know that here I am a student who is very ignorant and has a lot to learn. Arriving at the Place of Rescue is the perfect place to start.

More details on that adventure to come!


The ladies on the train:

Angkor Wat:

Disproportionate bike ride:

Angkor Thom:

Ta Prohm: (there is a Steve hidden in one of these pictures)

Prasat Kravan:

Landmine museum:

Very much alive pig:

Siem Reap: