Friday, December 19, 2008
Homeward Bound
I'm off to the U.S. for a few weeks of vacation and time with family and friends tomorrow, so you'll have to wait a little while longer for another post. My apologies! Happy holidays and happy New Year to all!
Farewell from His Excellency
At about 10:00pm last night, Shanti and I headed downstairs with her bags as she got ready to leave for the airport and a two week trip to the U.S. Downstairs, chatting away on his cell phone was His Excellency. We waved to His Excellency and carried Shanti's bags out to the waiting car. As we were loading it up, His Excellency came out into the middle of the street to give Shanti an excessively long hug.
We walked back over to the car to finish loading it and explained to His Excellency that Shanti was leaving for the U.S. and would be gone for two weeks. When he learned that I was not leaving until the following night - and that we would be on opposite coasts for our trip - he put his arms around both of us, pushed us towards one another and, in accented English, said only "kiss, kiss." Trying to stifle our laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, I managed to give Shanti a kiss on her forehead much to the pleasure of His Excellency. We are eagerly looking forward to our next adventure with His Excellency, which may in fact be a long-anticipated karaoke gathering upon our return.
We walked back over to the car to finish loading it and explained to His Excellency that Shanti was leaving for the U.S. and would be gone for two weeks. When he learned that I was not leaving until the following night - and that we would be on opposite coasts for our trip - he put his arms around both of us, pushed us towards one another and, in accented English, said only "kiss, kiss." Trying to stifle our laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, I managed to give Shanti a kiss on her forehead much to the pleasure of His Excellency. We are eagerly looking forward to our next adventure with His Excellency, which may in fact be a long-anticipated karaoke gathering upon our return.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Madame Cindy's
It had been a while since I've done something unusual in Phnom Penh, so a few Saturday's ago, Shanti and I joined a number of friends on a little adventure. We went to Madame Cindy's, a gay friendly bar that features a drag show on Saturday nights. While Thailand has a large, thriving, and openly gay community, homosexuality is still taboo in Cambodia, so I was a little surprised that such a thing even existed.
I'd been to a few drag shows in Boston - one of straight dancing and singing and the other a drag musical - and I've spent a bit of time in Provincetown, so I had an idea of what to expect. The bar was pretty chic, with a handful of tables, some on the ground in the traditional Khmer style, and a small bar next to a stage with glittery curtains. The drinks were ridiculously expensive for Cambodia - $3 for a soda - but since there was no cover charge, I felt obligated to get something.
The bar slowly filled in with a mix of young Khmers and a few older expats. Then Madame Cindy showed up, a tall, incredibly slender Khmer man with a tattoo on his left arm and wearing a white dress with black polka dots, high heels, and long, elegant black gloves. He (she?) posed for a few pictures with admirers and then went backstage to help the other performers prepare.
The show was short - thirty minutes - and, well, lackluster. About ten Khmer men in drag performed half a dozen songs. For all but one of the songs, there was no dancing! I was shocked! And this was particularly disappointing as there was no actual singing! And, no offense to the performers, but the lip-syncing was terrible! I can understand that there is a language barrier and not all of the performers can speak English, they could at least mask their language skills with some dancing.
The highlight of the performance was most certainly the outfits. With garments Cambodia's main export, buying fabric and getting clothes custom-made for next to no cost. As a result, most of the skirts, dresses, and blouses that the performers wore were quite beautiful. There was one exception - an absolutely dreadful performance by a guy wearing a ridiculously leopard-print outfit and, for some inexplicable reason, was outfitted in blackface.
All criticisms aside, it was good to look around the room and to see all of the young (probably gay?) Khmer teenagers and twenty-somethings. They were probably not out of the closet to their families, but with Madame Cindy's they have a safe place to meet other people like them and an outlet for discussing the issues they face. It was fun, but I would probably suggest waiting a few years for the show to improve before going yourself
I'd been to a few drag shows in Boston - one of straight dancing and singing and the other a drag musical - and I've spent a bit of time in Provincetown, so I had an idea of what to expect. The bar was pretty chic, with a handful of tables, some on the ground in the traditional Khmer style, and a small bar next to a stage with glittery curtains. The drinks were ridiculously expensive for Cambodia - $3 for a soda - but since there was no cover charge, I felt obligated to get something.
The bar slowly filled in with a mix of young Khmers and a few older expats. Then Madame Cindy showed up, a tall, incredibly slender Khmer man with a tattoo on his left arm and wearing a white dress with black polka dots, high heels, and long, elegant black gloves. He (she?) posed for a few pictures with admirers and then went backstage to help the other performers prepare.
The show was short - thirty minutes - and, well, lackluster. About ten Khmer men in drag performed half a dozen songs. For all but one of the songs, there was no dancing! I was shocked! And this was particularly disappointing as there was no actual singing! And, no offense to the performers, but the lip-syncing was terrible! I can understand that there is a language barrier and not all of the performers can speak English, they could at least mask their language skills with some dancing.
The highlight of the performance was most certainly the outfits. With garments Cambodia's main export, buying fabric and getting clothes custom-made for next to no cost. As a result, most of the skirts, dresses, and blouses that the performers wore were quite beautiful. There was one exception - an absolutely dreadful performance by a guy wearing a ridiculously leopard-print outfit and, for some inexplicable reason, was outfitted in blackface.
All criticisms aside, it was good to look around the room and to see all of the young (probably gay?) Khmer teenagers and twenty-somethings. They were probably not out of the closet to their families, but with Madame Cindy's they have a safe place to meet other people like them and an outlet for discussing the issues they face. It was fun, but I would probably suggest waiting a few years for the show to improve before going yourself
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Vietnam, Sort Of: Part II
With our short, scattered time in Saigon over, we set off for the airport to go to Phu Quoc. It was the quietest, least bustling airport I've ever been to. It was remarkably stress free; there were no long lines, no one was in a hurry, and we were easily able to get on an earlier flight. It was a short forty-five minute flight to Phu Quoc and a very enjoyable one at that.
Flying over the Mekong Delta was incredibly impressive, especially at the end of the rainy season; all of the land was covered with a thin layer of water. There were no roads as far as the eye could see and the only huts lined banks of small rivers. Clearly the only way to get from one place to another was by boat. The other thing that made the flight enjoyable (and that makes every flight in Asia enjoyable) is that despite the flight's incredibly short duration, the flight attendants managed to serve everyone a drink. American-based airlines could really take a lesson from those operating out of Asia.
We arrived in Phu Quoc, grabbed our stuff and were met by a throng of taxis, each of which wanted nearly $10 to drive us to the destination of our choice. Having consulted the trusty Lonely Planet, we knew that town was a short 200 meter walk away and that the resorts began shortly after that. So we hoofed it. Motos and taxis tried to pick us up (for even more inflated fares), but we shook them off more as a matter of principle than anything else.
We passed through Duong Dong, the main town on Phu Quoc and still the hotels and guesthouses were not in sight. By the time that we had been walking for about an hour, we had only passed the first few hotels, each of which were more expensive than we wanted. Shanti and I convinced her parents, who were now carting wheelies over dirt road, that we would go ahead, find a place to stay, and pick them up. The two of us stopped in about five hotels and resorts with little luck. We wandered into a new and air-conditioned travel agent's office and the friendly young woman began calling around.
Forty-five minutes later we were picked up by a van from Kim Hoa Resort. We picked up Shanti's parents and made our way to the hotel which was still a few kilometers further down the road than we had made it. Thanks Lonely Planet! The resort itself looked pretty nice, but the driveway and beach were all lined with somewhat bizarre over-sized plaster sea-faring animals, like crabs, lobsters, fish, and mermaids. It was certainly a sight to be seen.
Eager to finally hit the beach, we dropped our stuff off and grabbed a quick lunch at the restaurant. We then spent the afternoon relaxing on the beach. We were on the southern end of Long Beach, which was less crowded than other stretches, though nothing was very crowded. The water was quite nice and I've always loved when there's a gentle slope out to sea and, as you move forward, you can feel the ridges of sand formed by the waves. So it was a well-spent afternoon of reading, swimming, and napping.
As the afternoon turned into evening, the sun turned a bright red color and the sky followed suit, with reds, yellows, oranges, and blues creating a truly breathtaking sight. The photographer in me had to leave the dice game we were playing every few minutes to snap another picture. With the sun down, we grabbed dinner at the hotel, a little over-priced but the grilled prawns in tamarind sauce were particularly delicious. Before going to bed, we booked a combination snorkeling, fishing trip for the next day.
The following morning we were picked up by a van filled with about ten other tourists and made the drive down to the southern tip of Phu Quoc, the fishing village of An Thoi. The drive was beautiful, following Long Beach south for several kilometers, with occasional fishing huts dotting the landscape. The An Thoi port was crowded with wooden fishing boats, some outfitted with huge sets of bright lights, presumably for squid fishing.
We had an extremely slow boat ride out to some of the more distant An Thoi islands. Several of the islands had sizable fishing villages located on the coast, but the rest of the island looked fairly uninhabitable. We finally made it out to the fishing grounds and spent about an hour fishing with just a line wrapped around some plastic. Somehow, the captain was catching fish left and right, but no one else was catching anything. By the time we finished, Shanti's dad and I managed to catch one small fish each.
We then gave snorkeling a try, but the water was not all that clear and the tide was strong. The snorkeling was a bit better at the second stop, but it didn't compare to Pulau Perhentian, where I had been just six weeks earlier. We had fresh fish on board for lunch and we all got to try freshly caught sea urchin: a bit salty, but not bad with a squeeze of lime. After lunch we headed back to shore and took the van to Sao Beach, a gorgeous beach, with the finest, whitest sand I've ever seen. We spent a little time relaxing and swimming there before heading back to Kim Hoa for sunset, which was almost as beautiful as the night before.
On our last day on Phu Quoc, we did some more relaxing, reading, and swimming. Shanti, her mom, and I took a long walk down the beach around lunch time to look for a place to satisfy Shanti's Italian food craving. We managed to find a place with very good food, but, as one might expect, the Italian was a bit subpar. More relaxing in the afternoon and another game of dice as we were lucky enough to have a third gorgeous sunset. Expanding our horizons from the Kim Hoa restaurant a bit, we wandered down the beach to grab another delicious dinner.
We left early the next morning for the airport to catch our flights back to Saigon and then, for me and Shanti to Phnom Penh. On the whole, the trip was very relaxing - which I certainly needed some of - but I don't think I got quite as much of a cultural taste of Vietnam as I was hoping for. All the more reason for a return trip!
Flying over the Mekong Delta was incredibly impressive, especially at the end of the rainy season; all of the land was covered with a thin layer of water. There were no roads as far as the eye could see and the only huts lined banks of small rivers. Clearly the only way to get from one place to another was by boat. The other thing that made the flight enjoyable (and that makes every flight in Asia enjoyable) is that despite the flight's incredibly short duration, the flight attendants managed to serve everyone a drink. American-based airlines could really take a lesson from those operating out of Asia.
We arrived in Phu Quoc, grabbed our stuff and were met by a throng of taxis, each of which wanted nearly $10 to drive us to the destination of our choice. Having consulted the trusty Lonely Planet, we knew that town was a short 200 meter walk away and that the resorts began shortly after that. So we hoofed it. Motos and taxis tried to pick us up (for even more inflated fares), but we shook them off more as a matter of principle than anything else.
We passed through Duong Dong, the main town on Phu Quoc and still the hotels and guesthouses were not in sight. By the time that we had been walking for about an hour, we had only passed the first few hotels, each of which were more expensive than we wanted. Shanti and I convinced her parents, who were now carting wheelies over dirt road, that we would go ahead, find a place to stay, and pick them up. The two of us stopped in about five hotels and resorts with little luck. We wandered into a new and air-conditioned travel agent's office and the friendly young woman began calling around.
Forty-five minutes later we were picked up by a van from Kim Hoa Resort. We picked up Shanti's parents and made our way to the hotel which was still a few kilometers further down the road than we had made it. Thanks Lonely Planet! The resort itself looked pretty nice, but the driveway and beach were all lined with somewhat bizarre over-sized plaster sea-faring animals, like crabs, lobsters, fish, and mermaids. It was certainly a sight to be seen.
Eager to finally hit the beach, we dropped our stuff off and grabbed a quick lunch at the restaurant. We then spent the afternoon relaxing on the beach. We were on the southern end of Long Beach, which was less crowded than other stretches, though nothing was very crowded. The water was quite nice and I've always loved when there's a gentle slope out to sea and, as you move forward, you can feel the ridges of sand formed by the waves. So it was a well-spent afternoon of reading, swimming, and napping.
As the afternoon turned into evening, the sun turned a bright red color and the sky followed suit, with reds, yellows, oranges, and blues creating a truly breathtaking sight. The photographer in me had to leave the dice game we were playing every few minutes to snap another picture. With the sun down, we grabbed dinner at the hotel, a little over-priced but the grilled prawns in tamarind sauce were particularly delicious. Before going to bed, we booked a combination snorkeling, fishing trip for the next day.
The following morning we were picked up by a van filled with about ten other tourists and made the drive down to the southern tip of Phu Quoc, the fishing village of An Thoi. The drive was beautiful, following Long Beach south for several kilometers, with occasional fishing huts dotting the landscape. The An Thoi port was crowded with wooden fishing boats, some outfitted with huge sets of bright lights, presumably for squid fishing.
We had an extremely slow boat ride out to some of the more distant An Thoi islands. Several of the islands had sizable fishing villages located on the coast, but the rest of the island looked fairly uninhabitable. We finally made it out to the fishing grounds and spent about an hour fishing with just a line wrapped around some plastic. Somehow, the captain was catching fish left and right, but no one else was catching anything. By the time we finished, Shanti's dad and I managed to catch one small fish each.
We then gave snorkeling a try, but the water was not all that clear and the tide was strong. The snorkeling was a bit better at the second stop, but it didn't compare to Pulau Perhentian, where I had been just six weeks earlier. We had fresh fish on board for lunch and we all got to try freshly caught sea urchin: a bit salty, but not bad with a squeeze of lime. After lunch we headed back to shore and took the van to Sao Beach, a gorgeous beach, with the finest, whitest sand I've ever seen. We spent a little time relaxing and swimming there before heading back to Kim Hoa for sunset, which was almost as beautiful as the night before.
On our last day on Phu Quoc, we did some more relaxing, reading, and swimming. Shanti, her mom, and I took a long walk down the beach around lunch time to look for a place to satisfy Shanti's Italian food craving. We managed to find a place with very good food, but, as one might expect, the Italian was a bit subpar. More relaxing in the afternoon and another game of dice as we were lucky enough to have a third gorgeous sunset. Expanding our horizons from the Kim Hoa restaurant a bit, we wandered down the beach to grab another delicious dinner.
We left early the next morning for the airport to catch our flights back to Saigon and then, for me and Shanti to Phnom Penh. On the whole, the trip was very relaxing - which I certainly needed some of - but I don't think I got quite as much of a cultural taste of Vietnam as I was hoping for. All the more reason for a return trip!
Monday, December 1, 2008
Vietnam, Sort Of: Part I
The morning after the free ride we enjoyed from His Excellency, we set off for Vietnam. Saigon, now known as Ho Chi Minh City, our initial destination, was a mere six-hour bus ride from Phnom Penh. The ride was largely uneventful. Once we crossed the border, however, I noticed a number of subtle differences from Cambodia. First, and most obviously, the road was nicer and traffic laws appeared to be adhered to. Everyone riding motorbikes wore a helmet. Even in rural Vietnam, most houses had TV antennas. In actuality, we didn't pass through too many "rural" areas. Shortly after crossing the border, we were essentially in the massive and sprawling suburbs of Saigon.
We were dropped off in the backpacker area of town and wandered down the street until we found a decent-looking guesthouse. We climbed a few flights of stairs and threw down our things. From above a fairly major intersection, we had a good view of a jumbled mass of electric and telephone wires as well as the activity below - dozens of motorbikes, cars, cyclos, food vendors, tourists, etc.
Back outside, we looked for a spot to grab a snack settling on an Italian place down the street. Afterwards we wandered in to a travel agency to book flights to either Dalat, a cool mountain retreat in south-central Vietnam, or to Cat Tien, an isolated marine national park off the southeast coast. All flights were sold out for the times we were looking for. We regrouped, tried another travel agent, and thought about going to Hue, Hoi An, or Danang (between the two), in central Vietnam. Either the flights were completely booked or we could only get a ticket for one leg of the trip. We were shocked! We regrouped again and settled on Phu Quoc, an island off the southwest coast of Vietnam and actually much closer to Cambodia than Vietnam (it's visible from both Kep and Kampot).
After a quick stop at the guesthouse, we headed for The Rex, a high-end hotel with a roof-top veranda, for a drink. We walked through rush hour to get there - a sea of motorbikes packing the streets and making any street crossing a real-life game of Frogger. Along the way, we passed a bustling market, stopping in to look around. There was a beautiful array of silks and an impressive stock of Vietnamese coffee amidst more touristy knick-knacks.
The Rex was a thoroughly worthwhile stop. The drinks were pricey - about the same as the U.S. - but worth it for the combination of their strength and the atmosphere. Spending an hour in the gardened veranda was simply a wonderful way to spend a bit of time at twilight and debate politics (which we did). Pretending like we were staying at The Rex, we asked the concierge for a dinner recommendation. It was just a short walk away in a very fancy part of town; the street were lined with the stores of top designers like Gucci, Prada, Armani, etc.
The setting for the restaurant was quite fancy, but with live traditional music and a view of the street below, the ambiance was enjoyable. I, however, was unable to enjoy either the ambiance or the food. The dumplings I snacked on at the Italian restaurant made me violently ill during dinner, relieving me of my appetite and quite a bit more. What's a trip to a new southeast Asian country without some stomach problems though? Back at the guesthouse, and with the irritant seemingly out of my system, I felt much better. Exhausted, I crashed hard.
We woke early in the morning and, with my appetite back in full, grabbed a delicious breakfast at a small food stall outside the guesthouse - flat white noodles with tofu, bean sprouts, crunchy fried onions and a twist of lime. From breakfast it was off to the airport to see just what Phu Quoc was all about.
We were dropped off in the backpacker area of town and wandered down the street until we found a decent-looking guesthouse. We climbed a few flights of stairs and threw down our things. From above a fairly major intersection, we had a good view of a jumbled mass of electric and telephone wires as well as the activity below - dozens of motorbikes, cars, cyclos, food vendors, tourists, etc.
Back outside, we looked for a spot to grab a snack settling on an Italian place down the street. Afterwards we wandered in to a travel agency to book flights to either Dalat, a cool mountain retreat in south-central Vietnam, or to Cat Tien, an isolated marine national park off the southeast coast. All flights were sold out for the times we were looking for. We regrouped, tried another travel agent, and thought about going to Hue, Hoi An, or Danang (between the two), in central Vietnam. Either the flights were completely booked or we could only get a ticket for one leg of the trip. We were shocked! We regrouped again and settled on Phu Quoc, an island off the southwest coast of Vietnam and actually much closer to Cambodia than Vietnam (it's visible from both Kep and Kampot).
After a quick stop at the guesthouse, we headed for The Rex, a high-end hotel with a roof-top veranda, for a drink. We walked through rush hour to get there - a sea of motorbikes packing the streets and making any street crossing a real-life game of Frogger. Along the way, we passed a bustling market, stopping in to look around. There was a beautiful array of silks and an impressive stock of Vietnamese coffee amidst more touristy knick-knacks.
The Rex was a thoroughly worthwhile stop. The drinks were pricey - about the same as the U.S. - but worth it for the combination of their strength and the atmosphere. Spending an hour in the gardened veranda was simply a wonderful way to spend a bit of time at twilight and debate politics (which we did). Pretending like we were staying at The Rex, we asked the concierge for a dinner recommendation. It was just a short walk away in a very fancy part of town; the street were lined with the stores of top designers like Gucci, Prada, Armani, etc.
The setting for the restaurant was quite fancy, but with live traditional music and a view of the street below, the ambiance was enjoyable. I, however, was unable to enjoy either the ambiance or the food. The dumplings I snacked on at the Italian restaurant made me violently ill during dinner, relieving me of my appetite and quite a bit more. What's a trip to a new southeast Asian country without some stomach problems though? Back at the guesthouse, and with the irritant seemingly out of my system, I felt much better. Exhausted, I crashed hard.
We woke early in the morning and, with my appetite back in full, grabbed a delicious breakfast at a small food stall outside the guesthouse - flat white noodles with tofu, bean sprouts, crunchy fried onions and a twist of lime. From breakfast it was off to the airport to see just what Phu Quoc was all about.
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