Breakfast with His Excellency's Grandchildren

His Excellency has a number of adorable grandchildren spread across Cambodia. One of them, who is about ten, lives in Sihanoukville and can speak basic English fairly well. When Shanti and I first arrived in Phnom Penh, she was instrumental in ensuring that we had some semblance of an idea of what was happening around us. On a recent trip to Phnom Penh, she expressed the desire to practice her English with us. We invited her to join us for chocolate chip and corn muffins and some chatting in English last Saturday morning.

On the morning in question, however, she was nowhere to be found. Having bought juice and just baked a dozen muffins, we went looking for her. While we were unable to find the Sihanoukville granddaughter, we did find His Excellency’s Phnom Penh grandchildren, a charming five year-old girl and a rambunctious three year-old boy.

The five year-old is adorable. She wears cute dresses, always has her hair done nicely, and just as frequently a smile on her face. She is learning English and from rote memory goes through the entire alphabet, “A is for Apple, I spell A-double P-L-E.” Her younger brother, whose curly mullet makes him look more like a Latin soccer player than a Cambodian, is a total enigma. Though initially shy, he now enjoys such activities as riding around his bicycle naked and saying “Bye-bye” to Shanti and me in an extremely deep voice over and over.

Anyways, the two of them came up and quickly made a mess of our table. A bite of this muffin, a bite of that muffin, a sip of juice, and then it was off to play. First it was our guitar, which the little boy strummed with no regard for the strings. Next it was soccer and badminton on the terrace, and after that it was sitting on the hammock, and then it was back to soccer and sliding around on the terrace. Within a half hour I was exhausted, so I told the kids five more minutes. Five minutes later, it was one more minute, and then one more minute, until we had been playing for an hour and a half.

The following day, at the first sight of us, His Excellency’s grandchildren invited themselves upstairs for another bought of soccer, guitar, sliding on the terrace, and sitting in the hammock. Though we had things to do, it took an hour to our free ourselves from the surprisingly strong grasp of a three year-old and a five year-old. And although we cannot communicate all that well, the kids absolutely love us and, I have to admit, it is kind of fun showing Cambodian kids how American kids play.

The concern now, however, is that any time His Excellency’s grandchildren catch sight of us, they’re going to want access to the Garden of Eden of our terrace. Earlier this week, when I was having one of my coworkers over for dinner, His Excellency’s grandson asked Shanti if he could come up and play when she got home. When she told him that he couldn't, he started to cry, "But I want to play with the Barang (Foreigner)," in Khmer. He, of course, proceeded to tell none other than His Excellency. Hopefully we’re still on his good side…

A Break In, A Lock Out, and A Wedding

A Break In

At 4:30 in the morning last Tuesday, Shanti and I were woken by a rumbling. At first, we thought nothing of it; the wind usually blows our doors a bit, a feral cat can sometimes be heard shrieking, and, during the rainy season, the rain can pound the metal roof. After several minutes, however, we were convinced it was neither wind, nor rain, nor cat. We lay in our bed, stiff as boards, contemplating what we should do.

I volunteered to peek out our bedroom window, which looks into the living/dining room and out on to the terrace. As I drew the curtains back just enough to be able to see from the darkness of our bedroom to the darkness of the terrace, I could have sworn I saw the silhouette of a figure moving about. Closing the curtains, I turned to Shanti, "There's somebody out there." She thought I was joking until she saw my face.

I tried calling the police. My phone didn't work. Shanti tried with her phone. No answer. She called His Excellency. He picked up, but in his freshly-awake state, he didn't understand. I called back, saying "robber" and "help" in Khmer. He said he'd be up in a few minutes. Between the time I called him and he came up, the shaking stopped. Frightened and hidden in our bedroom, we heard His Excellency call us to the terrace. I checked to make sure it was him through the window and we headed outside.

His Excellency came upstairs with a full entourage - his lovely wife, his driver, his maid, and two girls who help with the kids and around the house. The driver, wielding a flashlight, searched around for signs of an unwanted presence while His Excellency calmed Shanti and me. Pointing to the barbed wire around the terrace, he told us we were safe and that in all the years he had lived in the house he had never been robbed. A short, but thorough search revealed nothing. As the entourage headed downstairs, we thanked them and began to head inside. And then, on our welcome mat, I noticed something: a whole lot of feathers. The cat, it seems, killed a bird while banging up against our door. It brings a whole new meaning to the term 'cat burglar'...

A Lock Out

After the "break in" incident, we couldn't fall asleep. I went in to work not feeling well and ended up returning home at 10:30 with a bad stomach virus. I split the remainder of my day between the bed and the bathroom. By evening, having taken some medicine and drank a lot of water, I felt a bit better. My friend Nick, whom I had worked with in Washington, was heading back to Australia the following day and I wanted to say goodbye to him, albeit quickly, before officially calling it a night.

As we were leaving, I asked Shanti if my keys were on the table. Receiving a reply in the affirmative, I locked our bedroom door. My keys, however, were not on the table. They, along with Shanti's, were in our bedroom and without them, we couldn't lock our front door or get back in to the house. Shanti went downstairs to get a spare key. The maid came up with a bucket full of keys, each apparently to some room in the house. Of the perhaps 100 keys, none of them worked.

Not feeling well, and annoyed at the obstacles between me and going to bed, I sat and watched as events unfolded. The driver came upstairs and he too tried all of the keys with the same result. He then tried reaching through the bedroom window to open the door, also unsuccessfully. His next plan was to somehow climb up into the rafters of the guest bedroom and over to our bedroom. Thankfully, he thought better of this and headed into a storage room. He grabbed a long plastic pipe and a small piece of metal wiring and headed into our kitchen. He turned on the stove and did something which I could not see. After a few minutes he emerged with the piece of metal wire molded into a hook and attached to the end of the pipe. Skeptical, and still annoyed, I watched as he pushed the pipe through our bedroom window, over our bed, and to our nightstand, where my keys lay. On his second attempt, he was able to lift the keys, pull them over the nightstand, the bed, and through the window. Unbelievable. Not only do I live with His Excellency, but with His Excellency's driver, the Cambodian MacGyver. We set off for to say good bye to Nick and, though I only lasted twenty minutes, we made it.

A Wedding

On Wednesday evening, fully recovered from the stomach bug I had the day before, Shanti and I went to our first Khmer wedding, for our Khmer teacher, Sokha. In preparation, Shanti had a traditional Khmer wedding outfit made: a patterned silk skirt and a silk blouse. Though the blouse is usually absurdly overdecorated, Shanti had hers made in a more simple fashion, with a little bit of lace around the neckline only. We set off with the invitation, which had a map in Khmer on the back, and our favorite tuk tuk driver. We got a little bit lost on the way to the bride's family's house outside of town, but such is life in a world of unmarked, unlit, unpaved roads.

From far away, we could hear the music and see the lights. We pulled up and, as is the Khmer tradition, an enormous tent was set up outside of the bride's house and an enormous speaker system blasted Khmer music (if in an urban area, the wedding tent would have blocked public streets and the music blared until three in the morning). We were greeted at the entrance by the bride's parents, who ushered us inside. Looking around the several hundred guests, the women's outfits were ridiculous. Bright-colored dresses, like orange, pink, and yellow, with lace, trim, sequins, frills, and everything else you can imagine. Their makeup was equally garish. Meanwhile, most of the men - myself included - wore very unassuming clothing; slacks and a button-down shirt.

There were no assigned seats, so we just sat at a vacant table, as one of Shanti's co-workers and others filled in around us. As soon as we sat, we were given drinks and the first of many courses of food. One man at our table insisted on filling our drinks every minute or so and bowing to us in some sort of a traditional Khmer "cheers." While eating, Sokha and his bride, Chea Kim, scurried about making sure everyone was having a good time and somehow finding time to change their outfits several times.

Just as the main course came, the cake cutting and other traditions were to occur, so we got up to watch. Rows of people formed a path from the entrance to the cake, which was a massive three-tiered cake that had plastic bridges to additional cakes on either side. As Sokha and Chea Kim walked the gauntlet, everyone threw flower petals at them and once they arrived at the cake they really got it: all the kids had silly string and confetti which were mercilessly sprayed at the groom, bride, and cake. Once the cake was cleared (mostly) of silly string, six pieces of cake were cut, one for the groom, one for the bride, and one each for their parents. First, the groom and bride fed cake to the bride's father and mother, respectively, and next fed the groom's mother and father. After Sokha fed Chea Kim and vice versa, it was time for the big kiss(es). Traditionally, the groom kisses the bride on each cheek and the forehead before she does the same, the first time that one has kissed the other. Though the tradition of abstaining from almost all physical contact may be changing, it was fairly evident that this was Sokha and Chea Kim's first kiss. Their cheeks grew red, even through the rouge that was spread on their cheeks.

Following the first kiss, at which most of the men were as rowdy as high schoolers, there was much dancing. Shanti and I were poked and prodded into joining in, dancing around a table, apsara-style. Somewhat grudgingly we obliged and danced much to the amusement of the mostly-Khmer guests. It was quite fun and certainly an experience. Before departing, we were issued an envelope, in which we gave our cash "gift," the custom for weddings and most other celebrations.

Side Note: The King

In Thailand, they absolutely adore the king. King X has been the crowned King of Thailand for over sixty years – he just celebrated his eightieth birthday – and his popularity is as strong as ever. For someone from a country without a monarchy, it was absolutely baffling to see how much the Thais love their king. Though King Sihamoni and his father, King Norodom Sihanouk, are revered in Cambodia, the Thais take their reverence to a whole new level. His presence and image is absolutely everywhere. On entire faces of skyscrapers. In every shop and restaurant. In taxi cabs. In movie theaters (as described below). On t-shirts – every day we saw dozens of yellow t-shirts bearing the logo of the king. On the highways lined with billboards of the king and his wife.

At one point in our travels across Bangkok by taxi, traffic came to a complete standstill. Though it was rush hour and traffic was indeed bad, there seemed to be no reason for us to be fully stopped. The wide boulevard we were on had four lanes in each section and had dividers between every two lanes. The two middle sets of two lanes were both closed completely. Our taxi driver turned to us to say that we were very lucky, the king and his convoy was going to drive by. Sure enough, after a ten minute delay a convoy of BMW police cars and a cream-colored 1950s Rolls Royce whirred past. The cab driver was not at all mad at the delay; he bowed as the king passed and just kept saying how lucky we were to see the king on our first trip to Thailand.

The Fam Part VII: Back to Bangkok

Following an uneventful van ride back to Bangkok – in Cambodia there would be no such thing as an uneventful ride anywhere – we settled back in to The Davis. We spent the afternoon relaxing before a fancy dinner at the Banyan Tree, a sixty-two store hotel with an outdoor restaurant on the roof.

I dressed in the nicest clothes I brought: linen pants, a polo shirt, and leather sandals. Unfortunately, it was not nice enough. When we arrived at the restaurant I was informed that men had to wear closed-toed shoes. Instead of kicking me out, however, I was provided with a hideous pair of black, backless loafers that were at least three sizes too large. As I slipped the loafers on, my sandals were courted off via tongs. I have a hard time recalling any other moment in which I felt so insulted – my feet and sandals were (and are) clean and certainly did not need to be carted off with tongs in the same manner one might expect a butler to dispose of a dirty diaper.

As I trudged upstairs to the roof, almost falling several times, all of Bangkok lay before me. The view was absolutely incredible, reminding me of being atop The Empire Building in New York. Bangkok’s skyscrapers were all lit up, the roads were lined with miniature cars, and, despite the lights, the stars were our roof for the evening. We were showed to our table and sat down to what was perhaps the fanciest meal I’ve ever had. A beer, which on the street would cost about $0.50 was $8 and the dinner menu featured, get this, a $200 steak. We started with drinks, cocktails for the ladies, a beer for my dad, and a glass of wine for me. Shanti’s drink, one of the house specialties, came in its own bowl of dry ice. Unbelievable. Our salads and appetizers were fantastic and were separated from the main course by a delicious raspberry intermezzo. The main courses were equally scrumptious; my steak (not the $200 one) was, unsurprisingly, the best I’d had in months, and Shanti’s chicken, my mom’s pasta, and my dad’s steak were all equally tasty. As we looked at the dessert menu, a tasting platter of desserts came out – apparently the five or six minutes we waited for our drinks was too long for their rigorous service standards, so dessert was on them. Despite the sandal/tong incident, I’d have to give the food and service a solid two thumbs up, though I don’t think I’ll be going back any time soon on my budget.

After a good night’s sleep, we were up and, unfortunately, it was time to say goodbye to the fam. With their bags packed, they checked out of the hotel and with a tear-filled farewell, set off for the airport. Though it was certainly hard to see them go, it was a fantastic trip with them – and hopefully for them.

With the parents off, Shanti and I still had almost the whole day to do what expats from Cambodia normally do in Bangkok: see a movie and get a massage. We wandered down to The Emporium, a ritzy shopping mall with designer stores and a movie theater, looking to see our first English-language movie in the theaters since arriving in Cambodia. Having no idea what was playing, we decided to get tickets for “I Am Legend,” the Will Smith movie because I vaguely remembered hearing that it got decent reviews. For the movie we had assigned seats which we chose from a computer screen upon purchasing our tickets, which were only about $4. On our way into the theater, we stopped for popcorn and a soda, getting a large of each for only $2 total; it’s amazing what they can get away with charging for the same thing in the U.S. After a series of mediocre previews and a return trip to the concession stand to get more popcorn, an announcement came on to pay respects to His Excellency, the King of Thailand. About ten seconds into the announcement, Shanti and I realized that we were the only ones in the theater still seated. We hopped to our feet and I tore of my hat to appropriately show my respect. (More on the King of Thailand in my next entry…). The movie ended up being awful, but it didn’t matter. We got to see a movie in the theaters.

Immediately following the movie, we strolled into a massage parlor for a Thai style massage. What better way to end a mostly relaxing vacation with a movie and a massage? With the massage over and feeling like lumps of jello, we managed to make it back to the hotel to pick up our bags and catch a taxi to the airport. Except for a few additional antennas on the trunk, the cab looked like any other in Thailand: a bright pink Toyota Corolla. As soon as we were inside, however, we knew it was no ordinary cab. On the sun visor was a small video screen. In the dash was a DVD player as well as what looked like a soundboard. The next thing we knew, a DVD was popped in, a microphone was tossed to the back seat and we were singing karaoke to the likes of Elvis and Christina Aguillera. Let me just recap here: dvd video karaoke, complete with a mic system, in the back of a taxi on the way to the airport. I think Shanti and I were even more entertained than the driver of the cab, who looked pretty entertained. The only disappointing thing about the ride was that the driver was too good at the driving part of his job. He navigated traffic so well that it took a mere thirty minutes to get to the airport, thus limiting our karaoke time. The cost of the ride was also nearly half of what we were told to expect, so we gave him a generous tip before embarking on a trip back home to Phnom Penh.

The Fam Part VI: New Years and More in Koh Chang

For New Years, the Aiyapura had an elaborate buffet dinner and various activities planned, flew in a band from the Philippines, and was going to set off fireworks at midnight. We arrived, dressed to the nines. We were greeted with a variety of tacky metal pins and guided towards the cocktail table. Unfortunately, there were only two choices: fruit punch and neon green punch with alcohol. We found our table and ordered some drinks; again, we were disappointed with the complimentary offerings – soft drinks, juice, wine, and beer. The selection of food, and the intricate manner in which various fruits and vegetables were carved was impressive. It tasted almost as good as it looked. The delicious food was offset by the entertainment, which, putting it mildly, left something to be desired. The “band” was little more than a synthesizer and two singers, a man and a woman, who sounded worse than the performers at the karaoke bar next to our house in Phnom Penh. Worse still were the activities planned by the resort. For some reason, they were geared toward the handful of children under ten as opposed to the overwhelming majority of adults. By 9:30, we had had enough. We retired to our villa, napped and woke up to see the somewhat impressive display of fireworks at midnight. Probably the last time I spend New Years at any sort of resort.

Our final full day in Koh Chang started unexpectedly early. We had been trying to sign up for an elephant trek, but were told that all were booked solid until after we left. If we left that instant – at 8:30am – we could make it.

We grabbed a few snacks from the buffet breakfast and hopped into the back of a pickup. From the coast, we drove inland toward the mountains. After a twenty minute ride we arrived at a clearing in the middle of forest and rubber plantations with a handful of stilted thatch huts.

Shortly after arriving we were assigned to an elephant in pairs, with Melisa deciding she wanted to fly solo and getting an adorable, younger elephant. We climbed up the stairs of one of the stilted huts and, from there, kicked off our flip-flops and hopped from the hut to the basket on the back of the elephant behind a Thai guide, who was perched on the elephant’s head. Shanti and my feet were on the elephant’s neck, which was surprisingly soft, a little bit squishy, and covered in small, somewhat bristly hairs.

We sauntered off, a line of three elephants, into the forest on a narrow, and at times steep, dirt and rock path. With each step the elephant took, we swayed to one side. I’m not sure that I would describe it as a comfortable form of travel, but it certainly was entertaining and I think our appreciation for the character of elephants grew tremendously. My mom looked a bit horrified (or was it sick?) at first, but she quickly enjoyed to grow the experience as much as the rest of us.

My sister’s elephant was not only the cutest, but the most mischievous. Every few minutes he stopped for a bit to eat, to play with some branches, or to get a drink of water, coming close to spraying my sister and her guide. About halfway into the trek, my sister was able to take over at the helm. She hopped from the basket to the elephant’s head, while the guide went ahead on the path and issued commands to the elephant. I soon got my turn and it was quite fun. It was a bit unnerving to jump from the basket to the elephant’s squishy head, but once there it was wonderful. We learned the commands for “go” – really the only you needed – which was more or less just a loud grunt.

After switching with Shanti and completing our trekking circuit, we descended from our elephants and fed them whole bananas, which they ripped out of our hands with the forceful power of their trunks. Next, it was time to swim with the elephants. The elephants that my parents and Shanti and I were on lumbered into the creek and kneeled down so that only their heads and a bit of their backs were showing. My sister and Shanti jumped in first and from the looks on their faces, the water was quite cold. They swam over to the elephants and climbed on to their backs. When the guides shouted “typhoon,” they sucked water into their trunks and sprayed directly behind them onto Shanti and my sister. This happened a half dozen times, soaking them both. Much to my pleasure, I followed suit and was quickly cold, soaked, and happy.

We returned to Aiyapura, reveling in the unique experience we just had, and sat by the pool, relaxed, and read for the afternoon. At 5:00 we took a van toward White Sand Beach to catch the sunset. We went to an off-the-beaten-path guesthouse for a drink as the sun dipped lower and lower, before it began sinking into the Gulf of Thailand. From the guesthouse, we set off for town to have dinner on the beach. As one might expect, it was wonderful. Our feet dug in the sand as we dined on a mix of Western and Thai dishes and sipped on cocktails – my sister’s “sex on the beach” was particularly entertaining.

The Fam Part V: Koh Chang, The First Few Days

After a tasty buffet breakfast at The Davis, we hopped in a sleek and spacious van for the five hour trip to the Aiyapura on Koh Chang (Elephant Island). The trip, on divided highways most of the way, was smooth and quick, delayed only slightly by having to take a ferry across to the island itself. Even from afar the island was gorgeous and much larger than either Koh Russei or Koh Tonsay off Cambodia’s southern coast. The shoreline was sandy at points, rocky at others and tall, craggy peaks dotted the inland portion of the island.

The road from the ferry to the hotel was a taste of what the island as a whole was like: windy and steep, but lush with greenery and small rubber plantations. Upon arriving at the Aiyapura, we were greeted with cold, fresh coconut juice and orchid bracelets. The view from the resort’s restaurant was breathtaking: sandy and rocky beaches, palm trees, the aquamarine waters of the Gulf of Thailand, and the series of hills from which Koh Chang got its name. The resort complex was so large that we were taken to our room by electric golf cart. My sister and I immediately made a pact to “borrow” one before our departure (sadly this did not happen).

Our accommodation was incredible. We had our own private gate which opened to a courtyard and a narrow walkway between two small villas. At the end of the walkway was our own private pool. To the left was the “kids’” villa, complete with a terrace with a similar view to the restaurant, a hot tub, big open room with beds for me, Shanti, and my sister, a large bathroom, and an indoor as well as an outdoor shower. My parents’ villa had an even larger open room, an even bigger bathroom (complete with bathrobes and slippers), and a private sauna. Let’s just say we ended up spending a good deal of time just hanging out in our seaside villas.

Once settled we had a delicious lunch at the Aiyapura’s seaside, as opposed to balcony, restaurant next to a small, man-made beach. As we dined, we noticed a handful of peacocks, male and female roaming the grounds. This place was ridiculous! After finishing our meal, I caught a tiny crab on the beach. We headed back to our rooms to relax, read, and enjoy the beautiful scenery and fresh air.

For dinner, we took a van up and down an incredibly steep and windy road to White Sand Beach. Though the ride was only ten minutes, it gave us a good taste of the island’s geography. White Sand Beach itself was an interesting spot, a mix of backpackers and resort-goers; it felt like it could have been a strip of beach on the American east coast. The two-lane road leading to the beach was lined with bars, restaurants, souvenir shops, and guesthouses. Wandering down to the beach for dinner, however, we immediately realized that this was one of the nicest beaches – soft, cool, powdery sand – we had ever been to. We dined with our feet sunk deep in the sand. We caught a “taxi” – a pickup truck with seats in the bed of the truck – back to the Aiyapura much to my mother’s horror.

On our first full day at the Aiyapura, Shanti and I took a kayak out, crossing the bay to the string of hills that look like an elephant. The trip over was fairly smooth – we had a good rhythm and the tides with us. Once we arrived on the other side, however, the wind had picked up and the water was much rougher. Though it wasn’t as difficult as either of us anticipated, it was more of a workout than expected. After a good buffet breakfast, we took towels and books to the pool. A few hours later, we took the resort shuttle to White Sand Beach. We had a tasty lunch on the beach and then set up shop on the waterfront. The water was so warm, clear, and shallow. Wading out a hundred yards, half our bodies were still exposed and we could see a handful of striped fish interested in our feet.

We took the 5:30 shuttle back to the resort, which turned out to be a mistake as we had to leave the beach just as the sun was setting. We promised ourselves we would return on our last night. Exhausted, the kids villa ordered room service and crashed while the ‘rents went down to the waterfront restaurant for a snack.

The next day was a day of relaxation (as if what we had done already was strenuous). We spent time reading on the terrace of our villa, in the hot tub, and down by the pool. For lunch we ordered at the pool bar, which was literally in the pool. There were stools built into the water and a bar sunken below pool level where food and drink was served. After more relaxation by the pool, we had a drink at the pool bar, courtesy of Shanti. It was a rough couple of days…

The Fam Part IV: Bangkok

Early on the morning of December 27th, the fam, Shanti, and I headed back to the beloved Pochentong International Airport to go to Bangkok. It was my first time leaving Cambodian soil in over five months. Though I had heard from several people that going to Bangkok for the first time was a shock to the system - especially after being confined to Cambodia for five months - nothing could have prepared me for what Bangkok was actually like.

The airport itself was a spectacle. Not only massive, but beautifully designed in a modern style, complete with all the efficiency and technology one might expect in a large American airport. Though the airport was impressive, there were far more seemingly mundane details about Bangkok that caught my attention. The fact that there were efficient and cheap metered cabs - Phnom Penh barely has taxis - that drive across the superhighways criss-crossing Bangkok boggled my mind. The road out of the airport and into downtown Bangkok was wider (twelve lanes), smoother, and better constructed than any road I had been on in Cambodia. In fact, on the way to our hotel we easily went much faster, by land, than I had at any time traveling around Cambodia. Moreover, the skyline, although it should have been unsurprising, caught me off guard. In Phnom Penh, the tallest building is a mere fifteen stories tall. Bangkok alone has at least ten buildings of fifty (that's 5-0) stories or more. I quickly learned that Bangkok is also home to a dizzying array of chain stores and restaurants. There is a 7-Eleven on every corner, McDonalds, Starbucks, Marriot, Armani, etc. Cambodia has none of this...yet (KFC is planning to open a branch some time this year, but that's all there is - not that I wish there were more).

So even from the half-hour ride from the airport to the hotel I was a bit wide-eyed and overwhelmed. We checked in to our hotel, The Davis, and relaxed a little. And it was a good place to relax. We had an enormous amount of space, comfortable beds, bath robes (any hotel that provides bath robes is a winner in my book), etc. Relaxed, we set off for a tailor. While my parents got measured for suits and my sister for pants, Shanti and I wandered around. We immediately realized that Bangkok was even less "walkable" than Phnom Penh. The sidewalks are clear of debris as well as vehicles, but the city is so sprawling that it doesn't really make sense to walk anywhere, especially with cheap cabs, a subway, a sky rail, and even public buses. Nonetheless we wandered, stumbling upon a beautiful, green park. People were jogging, biking, doing judo, etc. Though Phnom Penh does indeed have a nice array of parks, they are overly-manicured and not suitable or large enough for running.

We had a delicious dinner at a Thai restaurant (how could we not eat Thai food?) down the street from our hotel. The food, especially the spring rolls, were universally good, though much spicier than anticipated, even though we had requested that it be mild. My sister, a devoted foodie who enjoys Thai food in particular, was in heaven.

The following day, and our only full day in Bangkok, we managed to sleep quite late for the first time. Once up, and having missed breakfast at our hotel, we went to a nearby supermarket to get a snack. From there we caught a taxi to the riverfront Shangri-La Hotel, where we planned to take a boating tour of some of Bangkok's canals. One hour, seven kilometers, and a mere $3 later, we arrived.

We hopped from the docks to a wooden longboat with a loud lawnmower-like motor. The operator was a relaxed, young guy, perhaps thirty, sporting board shorts and aviators. Already south of the downtown area, we headed further south down the main river, the Mae Nam Chao Phraya, as Bangkok’s skyscrapers faded behind us. After about fifteen minutes of passing apartment buildings, ports, and hotels, we turned into a canal. While we waited to be transported from the river to the lock to the canal itself I admired the small shrines at the bow and stern of each of the longboats beside us. Now I’ve never been to Venice or Amsterdam, but I sort of imagined that Bangkok was Southeast Asia’s version of these two European cities. The canals were narrow, perhaps thirty feet wide, and wound all across various parts of the city. For the most part we passed houses, but sprinkled in were apartment buildings, factories, shops, and pagodas, which were much less prominent than those of Phnom Penh.

Snaking our way back north, we passed some of Bangkok’s larger and more intricately decorated pagodas, Wat Arun and Wat Kalayanamit. We finished our two hour tour at the docks by the Royal Palace. As we walked toward the entrance, a swindler tried to convince that the Palace was closed for a special ceremony and that we wouldn’t be admitted anyway in shorts and sandals. However, we pressed on to find that the Palace was in fact open and that there were complimentary sarongs and pants for those dressed inappropriately. As soon as we entered, I regretted it to an extent. A sea of tourists flocked from building to building within the enormous complex, immediately overwhelming me, the small-town Phnom Penh boy. Though the various structures within the Royal Palace complex were certainly beautiful, the crowds - and the size of the massive complex - made it a bit harder to appreciate them. It was hard to take a step without bumping into someone or blocking a photograph. As we wandered through, the crowds dispersed a bit and we took some amusing pictures with the Palace guards.

From the Palace we managed to catch a taxi to Jim Thompson’s House as long as we stopped at two tourist depots along the way. By making quick stops at these massive retail outlets, we were able to get the taxi for a mere $1.50 and the cab driver, who seemed nice enough, got coupons entitling him to gasoline. Jim Thompson was an American entrepreneur who famously brought Thai silk to Western markets. His “house” is now a museum and a shop of very high quality (and very expensive) silk goods.

Following a brief fitting at the tailor, we grabbed a bite for dinner and called it a night. The next day, we were off to Koh Chang (Elephant Island), off of Thailand’s southeast coast.

Side Note: Christmas in Cambodia

I have been asked by a number of friends what Christmas in Cambodia is like and, since it was different than I expected, I figured I should enlighten others as to my observations. Shortly after Thanksgiving, as in the US, lights and decorations began to appear. The US Embassy and the Ambassador’s house were in top form early on. I also noticed a shift in the music selection of many Phnom Penh area establishments. Instead of the typical love songs of the late 80s and early 90s, Christmas music was the choice for the supermarket and many shops and restaurants.

Most amusing of all, however, was the availability of Santa suits. Little mom and pop shops, which normally stock a bit of food, toiletries, and cigarettes began to sell Santa suits and hats in all sizes, but particularly in small ones. When Christmas rolled around, practically every other Cambodian kid was wearing a fuzzy red and white Santa suit and hat. In strollers, on motos, riding bicycles, eating dinner, etc.

The Fam Part III: Back to Phnom Penh

Read Parts I and II.

We made it back to Phnom Penh just in time to spend Christmas Eve with Shanti. We had a really nice dinner at Luna D’Autunno before, in Shanti’s family tradition, going on a Cambodia-style carriage ride: tuk-tuk. We took our chariot past the house of the US Ambassador – a devout Catholic – which was obscenely decorated in Christmas lights and paraphernalia, ironically designed and constructed by his Cambodian staff (so I hear). From there we were off to the even more absurdly decorated US Embassy, complete with Santa on a moto, and with far more lights than that overzealous neighbor down the street. Good to know that our US tax dollars are being well spent!

On Christmas we relaxed, baking cookies and making wreaths, decorating a three-foot fake tree with tinder, candy canes, and silk elephants, and going out to a mediocre Christmas dinner – what would you expect in Cambodia?

Our last day in Phnom Penh, we met with some friends freshly back from Thailand to get their impressions and recommendations. Shanti took my parents and sister back to Russian Market so they could buy at least one of everything there and we returned to the Chinese Noodle Shop. For the afternoon, I took the fam to Tuol Sleng, aka S-21, the genocide museum. I had been shortly after I arrived in Cambodia and found the “museum” to be the most disturbing place I had ever been. With a much greater understanding of the Cambodian people and strong relationships with many Khmers, I found Tuol Sleng to be even more troubling upon my return. Another difficult thing to see, but again, I’m glad my parents were able to get a taste of what the Cambodian people went through during the Khmer Rouge years.

In need of something uplifting, we returned to the apartment, where Shanti and I treated my parents to a “typical” evening in our lives. We watched Seinfeld and threw some burgers on our Khmer-style barbeque. My parents were amused that, to get the grill going, I lit a candle and then built an igloo of charcoal around it…works like a charm (thanks Dee!).

Side Note: Massages in Siem Reap

After a long day and a half of “templing” the fam and I were ready for some pampering. Though my parents and sister had been in Cambodia for several days, they had not yet indulged in the famously cheap and high quality massages. We chose a $6 number right on Pub Street and we had the place to ourselves. While my mom elected to get a foot massage, my dad, sister, and I elected for a Thai-style body massage, which comprises a lot of pressure and stretching (the masseur or masseuse often uses elbows, feet and knees to apply pressure or stretch the client out).

Prior to the massage we were given one-size fits (or doesn’t fit) all flip flops, which were humorously large on my mom’s feet. Once our feet were cleaned, my mom was led into the foot massage area and the rest of us were taken into another room. There was a row of perhaps ten mattresses on the floor, each separated by curtains. Our mattresses were all next to each other with my dad in the middle. As we changed in to the clothes provided, a loose pair of cotton pants and an equally loose tunic, we all encountered the same problem. We couldn’t figure out how to put the pants on correctly. In Khmer, I called for help. The opening of the curtain coincided with significant giggling. The pants were not drawstring pants as I (and my dad and sister) assumed, but were meant to have the strings in the back and tied around the front. I shared my discovery with my neighbors.

Once changed, the curtains between our mattresses were opened and we settled in to receive our massages. Our masseuses were all pretty young, between the ages of nineteen and twenty-one. Though their English was limited, I was able to practice a good amount of Khmer with them, acting as translator between them and my dad and sister.

After sharing initial pleasantries, I was told to inform my sister that she was beautiful and that she looked younger than her nearly twenty-one years. As I turned toward her, my dad, who was in the middle, mistakenly thought they were talking about him and he thanked them before I could clarify that they were talking about my sister and not him. More giggling ensued in which the masseuses informed my dad that, although he may not be “beautiful,” he did look quite young.

More amusement ensued when the masseuses began working on our arms. My dad was born unable to twist his arm such that his palm is facing up. However, it is not painful and hardly restricts his activity. His masseuse asked if it was caused by an accident, if it hurt, and if he was still able to write. I told them that he was born with it, it did not hurt, and he was able to write without problem. On the other hand, I said, he would not make a very good apsara dancer, the traditional Khmer dance which involves intricate arm and hand motions.

Though we chatted through the whole massage it was one of the most relaxing I've had and, after getting dressed, we floated down to a warm cup of herbal tea. We left as heaps of jello with several new friends.

The Fam Part II: Siem Reap

Read The Fam Part I: Arrival in Cambodia here.

On the afternoon of December 21^st we went back to the airport – for the third time in forty-eight hours (the second being to retrieve the luggage that didn’t arrive initially) – to fly up to Siem Reap.

Arriving at about 4:00, we checked into a wonderful boutique hotel, recommended by a friend of a friend. In between the airport and Siem Reap town and set down a dirt road and surrounded by farmland, Journeys Within has tropical gardens and flowers, an infinity pool, and rooms that are both spacious and luxurious. We didn’t take much time to savor the hotel, however, in order to catch sunset at the famed Angkor Wat. It was not as much of a zoo as I expected, but it was still quite busy. We walked across the causeway, through the initial gate, and to a pond in front of Angkor Wat’s magnificent towers, just in time to see the sky light up in brilliant hues of orange, pink, and yellow. It was the best introduction to Siem Reap possible for my family.

The following morning, after a delicious, complementary breakfast at the hotel, we went on a whirlwind tour of the “Grand Circuit,” stopping at Banteay Kdei, Ta Prohm, Ta Keo, Thommanom, Angkor Thom, Bayon, and, of course, Angkor Wat. Doing the Grand Circuit in reverse –that is, the opposite direction that most tourists go - appeared to make a difference in the size of the crowds at most places we visited, which certainly helped to enhance the experience as a whole.

For the most part the fam enjoyed the temples. They were impressed by the grandeur of their architecture, entertained by the traditional Khmer music played by landmine victims, amused by all of the kids selling stuff (my dad started calling his encounters with them trips to “the dollar store”), and everyone, especially my sister, enjoyed the lunch we had at the food stalls within Angkor Thom. By the end of the day, however, they were pooped, so we left the temples in late afternoon and relaxed by the Journeys Within pool and ordered room service for dinner.

Much to my family’s chagrin, at least initially, I forced them to get up early for sunrise at Angkor Wat on day two. By 5:30 we were at the temple, in the dark, and using the light from my cell phone to make our way to the same spot we watched sunset a day and a half prior. At first, the sunrise was rather dull, but by shortly after 6:00 it exploded into a beautiful array of bright colors. If that wasn’t enough to convince my family that getting up was worth it, we had a wonderful pancake breakfast at the stalls outside of Angkor Wat.

From Angkor Wat we went on a lengthy tuk-tuk ride through Cambodian countryside to the far out ruins of Kbal Spean and Banteay Srei. The ride was a bit longer than I remembered from my October trip (read the lengthy description of my first trip to Angkor Wat here), but it was a great way to expose my parents and sister to rice fields, thatch huts, water buffalo, sugar palms, and other aspects of country life. Though the “climb” up to Kbal Spean was a bit much for my mom, the river ruins were as impressive as I remembered and incredibly well-preserved. After a bit of time at the intricate Banteay Srei, the fam was “templed out,” so we headed back to town for lunch, a massage, and some relaxation by the pool at the hotel.

On our last morning in Siem Reap we headed for the floating villages of the massive Tonle Sap Lake. I had heard mixed reviews of the village, but was eager to do some exploring, without having had time to go in October. As it is the dry season, the water was much lower than a few months prior and, as a result, we had a slightly longer drive from Siem Reap town.

It was immediately very depressing. The narrow dirt road leading to the “docks” was lined with tiny wooden, dirt-floored shacks. Few if any of the people in or around the shacks were smiling and not even the children waved or smiled at us, the typical greeting in most parts of Cambodia. As we got closer to the docks, the road was lined with cars, vans, and even buses devoid of their foreign occupants, who had gone on a boat tour to the floating village.

We got out of the car and hopped into a fairly large wooden boat. Following a line of similar tourist boats, it took about twenty minutes to get to the floating village, which is literally a floating village – homes, shops, schools, churches, etc in the middle of the massive Tonle Sap Lake. The occupants are mainly ethnic Vietnamese who are not recognized as Cambodian citizens and cannot own land forcing them to reside in the Lake.

The conditions in the village were even more depressing than back on the mainland. It was immediately clear that our tourism dollars were not helping these people at all; the $30 per boat that tourists pay clearly disappeared somewhere between the mainland and the village. Beggars were everywhere, malnutrition was widely evident, and the trip as a whole felt more like a trip to a zoo than a tourist attraction. More out of pity than anything else, we bought some bananas from a small girl and her mother. The $1 seemed to absolutely make their day and the smiles on their faces were some of the few we saw the entire morning. Though dismal in many ways, I’m glad we visited the floating village and I’m glad that my parents and sister saw it.

The Fam Part I: Arrival in Cambodia

In my two week absence I’ve been busy! I’ve broken up my trip with my family into several entries and what I have called “side notes,” amusing stories worthy of more description than can fit in a normal entry. Therefore, over the next week or so, you can expect at least a half dozen entries. Enjoy!

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Late in the evening of December 19^th, Shanti and I hopped into a Toyota Camry and made our way to Pochentong International Airport. Shortly after 11:30, a tired, but excited trio of my parents and sister arrived, sans luggage unfortunately. We squeezed into the Camry and my family got their first taste of Asia as well as the developing world: pungent smells, poverty, motos, and more.

Over the next two days we did as much of Phnom Penh as possible. My family was introduced to our “host” family and the other members of the household as well as our Khmer teacher, my boss and his wife, and a few of our friends. We went to our favorite restaurants – including Java Café, Khmer Surin, and the Chinese Noodle Shop. We went to the markets to admire (and purchase) the silks, the fabric, and the crafts. We went to the Royal Palace, fed the monkeys at Wat Phnom, and sat along the riverfront, where I played with a cute, naked, three year-old boy; he grabbed my hand and just held it and then ran off to a slightly older friend, pointing back to me as he yelled “barang” (foreigner).

Despite having spent thirty-six hours traveling, my parents and sister adjusted very well to the twelve hour time difference as well as to the new environment. Their eyes were wide with wonder for most of their journey, taking in the chaotic traffic, the adorable children, the vibrant markets, and the friendly smiles. My sister even quickly picked up some basic Khmer phrases within the first day or two.