Pens and Palms

 Phnom Penh is a much reviled place. This statement is not of my heart, which bears it a curious affection, but from the hearts of other travelers. For much of the trip, the news of Cambodia has been to avoid the capital and stick to rural life. Allowing even for bad experience, only one other traveler has secured their support for the Khmer capital. That being said, I trust her implicitly, so it would seem I judge character well to suit my own. Phnom Penh IS in fact all the negative things spewed about it. Dirty, populous to a failing, seemingly overrun by foreigners in much of it's downtown, hectic and dangerous. These things are swept aside by the tide of chaotic spontaneity that seems to encompass the city once inside. Motos scream past, tuk-tuks scream at you, prostitutes and their geriatric john's go about the pathetic and purposeless show of walking together, hands clasped, down the street. (I'm sorry, does ANYONE think that 20 something gorgeous Khmer girl actually likes that 90-year old bag of bones?) But in some way, these things are not to Phnom Penh's detriment, in fact, they add a certain devil-may-care sheen to the city in a way Bangkok desperately failed at. More obviously positive are the spontaneous aerobic sessions by the river, where as many as a hundred people can be seen gyrating to music spewing from a tiny amplifier older than most of the participants in the exercise. Soccer games with miniature balls break out every evening at seemingly random locations, though upon closer inspection, the areas are the only few big enough to accomodate a six on six match with any pace. The city sits lazily on the river, with a massive boardwalk facing all types of businesses, including but not limited to fancy bistros, laid back cafes, "happy pizza" sales stalls, cinemas, hotels, and of course the single incongrous and very worrying coffin shop on the main strip.

Outside of the falang laden riverfront is also a unique and exciting city worthy of more than a brief look. Though reportedly dangerous, the back alleys of Phnom Penh teem even at night with markets, shops and people selling all manner of legal or illicit goods. Jewelery stores abound, staffed by old women so weighed down by gold and boredom many simply sleep on the counters awaiting customers. Bakeries and restaurants line every street, crammed between motorbike repair shops and cell phone stores, peddling chocolate muffins of surprising quality as well as the more obscure local baked goods. Its fucking awesome. It's also difficult to describe the feeling of wandering, sampling random food that could or could not put you on the ceramic throne for three days open at both ends. It hasn't happened yet, and I'm not sure it will (If I believed in such things, I would cross my fingers or knock on some innocent wooden table at this point in the monologue). Massive omelets, served fresh, filled with pork, shrimp paste, basil, sprouts and other magical tastes were a find particularly worthy of mention, but there are many others. Fried egg noodles are a classic, and a stall conviently located next to one "horny bar"(read whorehouse) satisfies late night cravings for chicken fried rice or noodles. The "handsome man" compliments don't hurt either, but I'm aware they come with a certain connatation I'm not entirely comfortable dealing with, so smile and nod, act like you don't understand, and leave quickly.

Now that the feeling of the city is out of the way, space is allowed for a description of the common activities undertaken by the foreign visitors to this wonderful metropolis. They aren't all pleasant, and opting for the shooting range first is a good way to start the day with an emotionally clean slate. Expensive is probably the first term that will come to mind most in the future when I picture myself shooting an M-16 or an AK. Surprisingly safely run, military men abound, ensuring no witless foreigner blasts off their own foot or worse. A wall of weapons welcomes visitors upon entry. The age of the machinery dates them to less stable times in Cambodia, when the US, the Khmer Rouge, and the Vietnamese were dashing in and out of the countryside  and cities, mass murdering, bombing, and generally arming the populace so well most midwestern towns in the USA would be embarassed by the comparison. The kickback on the weapons is impressive, but none too memorable in the face of the noise. It's a proper shooting range, rock walls and targets on downrange, backed by sandbags and more rock. Ear protection is worn by everyone at all times, and safeties are checked anytime a person even puts down a weapon.

Upon our departure from said range, a few rowdy Aussies pull up, and decide upon shooting the rocket launcher(at a whopping 350 US$). We have a date set, but some of our company parts ways to go observe this debaucle. Almost ends up killing everyone on a misfire, as it happens.

From the shooting range we head into town to see the infamous S-21, or security facility 21, used in the dark years by the Khmer Rouge as a massive torture facility and cellblock for dissenters and other inconvienient people(which eventually including most of the movement's founders). Recent Cambodian history is like an extremely slow explosion, which kills everyone in the room. After a US backed "democratic" military government takes over, sympathy for the communist party flies through the roof, eventually causing a complete rout of the US backed leaders by the Chinese backed Khmer Rouge. The main issue with the KR is that their leader is a fucking paranoid lunatic intent on restoring Cambodia to an agrarian paradise replete with contented laborers. He reasoned that the only way to do so was to drive everyone out of cities into forced labor camps, kill every educated person (you have glasses?speak two languages?university degree? Say goodnight.) And blow up the cities, leaving behind only massive prisons. After some years of this, Cambodia is so empty of people that it is reported the Vietnamese armies who "freed" them from Khmer rule basically walked in, shot some armed but untrained kids who attacked them,
and declared victory. This sounds like a bit of a blasee account of a period of time which killed 7 million people and is one of the most brutal atrocities ever commited by a dictator on his own people.

Since that time, not so long ago, another short revolution against the Vietnamese later and Cambodia is an independant nation running with the big boys. Phnom Penh comes out a little worse for wear, but has undergone a massive modernization and is now a frenetic city worthy of more than a surface scratching.

You'll either love it or hate it, and if you hate it (like anywhere) you probably aren't in the right place.

Banning Lungs

Can barely use words. Cambodia is amazing. Entering from the north near the four thousand islands of Laos, wandering around the northeast on motorbikes, keeping good company and eating everything in sight is basically the M.O. of any food loving traveler in Cambodia. Motorbikes to waterfalls, stitch removal, random bakeries, alcohol fuelled 5 a.m. adventures, fighting packs of feral dogs and feral children is all part of the appeal of Cambodia. The pancake trail is as prevalent here as elsewhere, but seemingly easier to avoid with any kind of seriousness. The collected anecdotes of Cambodia at this juncture far outstrip the quick journey we had through Thailand and infringe upon the territory of actual ridiculous travel worthy of writing about.

Even getting to the first stop in the country was a trial, with warnings from bus drivers about it being empty during the celebrations for Khmer new year cementing the need to visit it's relatively seldomly travelled roads. However, getting dropped off at intersections seems somewhat along the lines of a trend, and after almost jumping in the flatbed of a passing cambodian/american owned flatbed truck, a decision is reached that waiting for the bus we paid for might actually result in a more comfortable ride. As the sky split open to pour water in quantities sufficient to turn local streets into little more than muddy rivers, the decision was lauded as a positive development. Whittle away time playing cards with locals before finally getting the bus. Arrival in Ban Lung is a typical assault of drivers jumping on the farang, but a quick question to a local headed into town lends a less comfortable but extremely affordably free ride into town in a pickup bed with a small child. Hostels are arranged, prices are decided upon, and a new city prepares to withstand the wrath of our travelling band, which has grown by one thanks to a San Franciscan coffee fanatic/neuroscientist.

you see that chicken head? Yeah I ate that chicken head.

The new year is still effective here, and other travelers are mostly in Siem Reap by now to spray each other with water pistols. That being said, some nice Vietnamese gentlemen come to our aid by waving us over to join their beer drinking festival on the side of the road. Communication is tantamount to nil, but it eventually becomes clear that we are going to eat dinner at a local house, which is sweet. Post dinner, we politely take our leave and wander through the streets in search of more revelrous places. After a quick ride on a local ferriss wheel(sketch), we come across another band of miscreants, who we have now seen in three cities and witnessed the silly faces of each other far too many times. Sharing moto crashes, waterfalls and far too much beer to be healthy with people is part of the joy of travel. Especially during new years, fit for revelry.

Ban Lung offers few things but a massive market and the surrounding countryside, which is a massive pleasure to putter around and goof about in. Climbing waterfalls where local kids monkey around and jump into shallow water or just catching vistas of the sun climbing over farmland is an experience of freedom not always felt on the regular trail. After a hot day in the sun, massive recommendations from yours truly for getting your water early. A 2 A.M. wander for cold water on a sunday in rural Cambodia includes roaming packs of wild dogs, intent on terrifying wandering lone whiteboys. No jests involved, this was the first time I was seriously worried for my personal wellbeing. Squaring off against single monstrous black dogs or ensuring a pack can't circle around you with a stick is no pleasant experience. Procuring water from the single open shop in town is the most relieving experience possible, but packs of dogs are still an issue for me in this area of the world.

Gestational Eggs

These are fertilized chicken eggs, full of little baby chickens. They taste like differently textured egg yolks, so don't let it freak you too much. Add lime and black pepper and yous got you a meal.