Friday, September 19, 2008
A few photos - stay tuned for more!
Annieeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!
Crossing the canal at Kamping Poy - watch out for floating poos!
The CCT gang on the bamboo railway.
Paying respects to Buddha.
This is Battambang's version of Ros Hickey - a school canteen...
A frangipani especially for Miss Barratt.
How to dry washing in Singapore.
The water well built with Sacred Heart donations.
Me drinking the clean water from the well (no-one else was brave enough!)
.
Anyone for a bath? this is how it's done in the rural districts...
Feslipity and Sopeepee in the cool house at the Singapore Botanical Gardens.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Day 11 - 17th September - Home!!!
Plane arrived in Darwin, we passed through customs losing a couple of items due to quarantine issues. I had to dispose of a couple of woven-grass tubes that some art was stored i. A couple of tiny bugs were in them, so I could pay to have them sprayed, or ditch them. They weren't worth the $30 price tag to spray them, so I left them behind.
After a short wait, we hopped onto the second last of our flights and were Sydney-bound.
Upon arriving in Sydney, we collected Fiona's friend Rachel as well as our luggage. Awaiting luggage had become a ritual of nervous tension mixed with sarcastic remarks about Jetstar baggage handlers...
We found Tara and Sinet who were also coming to visit us on our way through.
Many photos were shared, and Sinet showed us her scrapbook of adventures and Australian experiences. It was a happy reunion, mixed with a little sadness: one final contact with our Cambodian family before rejoining with our own in Tasmania.
Many memories to last a lifetime were created on this short trip.
Many friends made.
Many lessons learned about the nature of the world, and also about ourselves.
So, from Fiona 'Shop Shop', Trish 'Pee Pee', Florry 'Oh, aren't they gorgeous', SoPeePee One Noodle, Feslipity and myself - 'King Kong' - good luck and thank you for sharing our story.
And remember - everyone CAN make a difference.
You just need the passion to dream, and the courage to try.
Day 10 - 16th September - A breeze through Singapore
Arriving in Singapore brought a flood of memories - lost baggage, someone vomiting on the floor, soldiers with machine guns (who were suspiciously missing this time). There was even a deserted piece of luggage near us that was tested for explosives...
We ditched our own luggage at the 'left luggage' counter, and were told not to lose our ticket or we would not be able to get it back. sound advice, I'd have thought.
We jumped on the MRT (that means 'Mass Rapid Transport', which is techno-speak for 'train') and I led everyone off at the next stop, to change to the MRT to the city. Unfortunately, this was a stop too early, so we had to wait for the next one to come past.
The girls wanted to go on the Singapore Flyer, a very large Ferris Wheel like the London Eye, so we headed towards the Raffles Place stop. this wasn't the right place to go, but we were in a beautiful little harbour with nice food. So we stopped and had fish and chips for lunch. The guy who ran the place was hilarious - very Italian in manner, despite being Chinese/Singaporean.
Afterwards we walked towards Chinatown and more shops. Everywhere we went there were shops. I think for the first time, Sopeepee and Feslipity wanted to buy stuff - and they were continually drawn to Chickenfeed type shops for things like pens and stationery... things that are MORE expensive in Singapore than in Hobart...
I was on the hunt for a Christmas present for my own girls, so needed the technology shops, so we headed towards the Funan centre. This place was quite amazing - one shop sold LCD monitors/TVs in many shapes and sizes from apples to fire-engines, basketballs to rabbits... very cool. I found a few suitable shops, but again, Singapore proved to be more expensive than Hobart.
By this stage, some of us (one in particular!!!) were in 'shop or die' mode. At one point, said person even ran across the pedestrian crossing with only three seconds before it went red (they have timers that tell you how long before the lights change), just to get to a clothes shop that had cheap stuff. I don't think the shop would have gone anywhere if we waited for the next green signal to cross, but the excitement of a bargain in Singapore was too much. We all did manage to get across the lights in one piece, though. If it were Phnom Penh, we would not have...
Many items were scavenged from this shop, then we moved on to the Flyer. With a price tag of $30 per adult, it was not worth the fuss, so the girls went by themselves. It was a good chance for us oldies to have a rest, and afterwards it was time to find food and then back to the airport.
All went smoothly until we attempted to collect our baggage. Someone (again, I don't want to slander anybody specifically!), who frequently forgets where she puts things, couldn't find her luggage ticket. I told one of the guys behind the counter, and in a horrified voice he gasped "You can't find your ticket??? Oh no!!!". His counterpart, with a wry grin, said that a passport would be enough, at which point our un-named can't-find-things travel partner pulled out her passport, inside which was the missing documentation required to get the luggage back.
According to the guys working there, that always happens. People can't find it, but it is where the staff always put it - in the passport.
So, after another moment of panic, we checked our luggage in and were out of Asia and on our way home.
We had successfully chewed up eleven hours in Singapore without going completely broke!
Day 10 - 16th September - [sniff sniff] Farewell Cambodia
With our plane due to depart at 9am, and with Chomreun's suggested travel time to the airport of around one hour, we arose before 6am to make sure we had breakfast and time to spare when we arrived at the airport.
We arrived plenty early enough - even before our flight check-in opened. So after a short wait, we were ready to leave.
There was some good souvenir shopping to be done at Pochentong (the old Khmer name for the airport) before our flight left, perhaps at more inflated prices than we were accustomed to, but the quality of stuff was good, and in the early hours of the morning on a day when we were leaving a place to which we had all become very attached, none of us cared...
The short flight to Singapore, which took around two hours, was fine except for one thing. This flight was filled with people who for some reason felt the need to sniff continuously.
As we passed over Malaysia, I decided to count how frequently these sniffs occurred. It was not from one or two people, mind you - almost every Asian traveller seemed either to have a runny nose, or some superstition to do with flying and nasal noises...
So, counted seconds, and restarted the count each time I heard a sniff. I did this for a period of around five minutes, and I never reached ten. Someone within earshot of myself sniffed more than once every ten seconds! In the words of our long, lost saviour - "Crikey!".
Think about it this way. At least one sniff every nine seconds. Our flight lasted 135 minutes - which is a total of 8100 seconds. AT LEAST one sniff every nine seconds (8100 ÷ 9) means that there were more than (considerably more than, actually) 900 sniffs during the flight that I could hear. You could easily double this, as sometimes sniffs were simultaneous, and other times they were only two or three seconds apart.
There was one guy quite close who was a snorter - you know, that deep nasal, pig-like sound that some people make when they laugh? I think his should count for at least two sniffs...
So I believe, and this may not be quite statistically sound, that I had to endure the sound of around 2 000 sniffs during a two and a bit hour flight...
Who knows how many there really were..
Get it?
Who 'KNOWS'?
Who 'NOSE'?
Hmm... you didn't get it, did you?
Monday, September 15, 2008
Day 9 - 15th September - Phnom Phen Penh Pehn Hpen...
One thing I will say about Phnom Penh before anything else is that its name is spelt really stupidly. Different places spell it differently. NO-one seems to have problems with the Phnom bit. It's the Penh bit that's weird. If I had more time on my internet account here I'd look it up on Wikipedia and find out how many entries with different spellings there are.
Anyway, Phnom Penh (I'm gonna put the 'h' at the end) is about shopping. Markets everywhere with great bargains and some good haggling for everyone. I love haggling. I think I've become pretty good at it, too. I'm not one of those ruthless, cut-throat hagglers who bargains for every precious cent. But I do have some pretty good tactics that I might share some time... but the bottom line is, if you're not happy to pay the price, don't.
After spending an hour and a half at the Russian Market (Psar Toul Tompoung, surprisingly named because it was once a market for selling Russian imports), we headed back to the hotel for a swim.
Now, let's get some perspective on this: an hour and a half at this market allowed us to see less than a quarter of it. For me, I probably only got to see about a sixth of it due to some time-consuming haggling, and waiting for someone to find a VCD with the song "I Miss You" by some dramatic Cambodian boy-singer on it. In the end, the closest I got was the song "Miss You Like Crazy" by some Cambodian boy singer who is not as attractive as the one I would have liked. But still, Khmer pop music is worth every cent you pay for it - which was 10,000Riel - ie ncents at all!!! So we left, thinking that Fiona 'Shop Shop' Donato might go to a different market to keep her addiction under control.
Meanwhile, King Kong and Slorry got dropped off at the Tuol Sleng Museum - once a secondary school, then an interrogation/torture centre for the Khmner Rouge in which at least 20,000 Khmer people were 'interrogated' and re-educated (that is Khmer Rouge for murdered) by way of the Killing Fields. Of this 20,000+, only 7 survived, with 3 of them still alive today. It's too disturbing to go into any further discussion on this topic. You've got to see it to believe it, as well.
Shop-Shop, Feslipity and Sopeepee (daughter of Mrs Pee-Pee) went for a swim, then we met for lunch, and only made it 100m around the corner from our hotel before asking Chomreun to stop at a chingehn restaurant (chingehn means delicious in Khmer). It was chingehn, and expensive-ish, too. Chomreun was stunned by the $4 price tag on the fried rice (considering he used to earn $40 per month as a teacher).
Afterwards, we visitied the extremely opulent Royal Palace. It's hard to understand how this place can be filled with gold, silver and all manner of amazing jewels, whilst there are thousands and thousands of homeless beggars on the streets, as well as hundreds of well-fed beggars with plenty of cash, but who can make more money preying on tourists than they can doing a menial job in the city...
We then checked out Wat Phnom - a small and very old temple on top of a little mound in the middle of the city. Phnom means mountain in Khmer - why they think this is Mountain temple, I have no idea - as it only sits about 10 metres about the levle of the rest of Phnom Penh... must be a more elaborate story in this somewhere...
After this, there was more shopping to be done, so we headed to Psar Tom Thmey, the lragest market in PP, but it was closing, so Shop-Shop had to spen more time in a supermarket stocking up on pressies.
My Internet time is about to run out, so I'd better stop or I'll lose all this blog.
Bye
Anyway, Phnom Penh (I'm gonna put the 'h' at the end) is about shopping. Markets everywhere with great bargains and some good haggling for everyone. I love haggling. I think I've become pretty good at it, too. I'm not one of those ruthless, cut-throat hagglers who bargains for every precious cent. But I do have some pretty good tactics that I might share some time... but the bottom line is, if you're not happy to pay the price, don't.
After spending an hour and a half at the Russian Market (Psar Toul Tompoung, surprisingly named because it was once a market for selling Russian imports), we headed back to the hotel for a swim.
Now, let's get some perspective on this: an hour and a half at this market allowed us to see less than a quarter of it. For me, I probably only got to see about a sixth of it due to some time-consuming haggling, and waiting for someone to find a VCD with the song "I Miss You" by some dramatic Cambodian boy-singer on it. In the end, the closest I got was the song "Miss You Like Crazy" by some Cambodian boy singer who is not as attractive as the one I would have liked. But still, Khmer pop music is worth every cent you pay for it - which was 10,000Riel - ie ncents at all!!! So we left, thinking that Fiona 'Shop Shop' Donato might go to a different market to keep her addiction under control.
Meanwhile, King Kong and Slorry got dropped off at the Tuol Sleng Museum - once a secondary school, then an interrogation/torture centre for the Khmner Rouge in which at least 20,000 Khmer people were 'interrogated' and re-educated (that is Khmer Rouge for murdered) by way of the Killing Fields. Of this 20,000+, only 7 survived, with 3 of them still alive today. It's too disturbing to go into any further discussion on this topic. You've got to see it to believe it, as well.
Shop-Shop, Feslipity and Sopeepee (daughter of Mrs Pee-Pee) went for a swim, then we met for lunch, and only made it 100m around the corner from our hotel before asking Chomreun to stop at a chingehn restaurant (chingehn means delicious in Khmer). It was chingehn, and expensive-ish, too. Chomreun was stunned by the $4 price tag on the fried rice (considering he used to earn $40 per month as a teacher).
Afterwards, we visitied the extremely opulent Royal Palace. It's hard to understand how this place can be filled with gold, silver and all manner of amazing jewels, whilst there are thousands and thousands of homeless beggars on the streets, as well as hundreds of well-fed beggars with plenty of cash, but who can make more money preying on tourists than they can doing a menial job in the city...
We then checked out Wat Phnom - a small and very old temple on top of a little mound in the middle of the city. Phnom means mountain in Khmer - why they think this is Mountain temple, I have no idea - as it only sits about 10 metres about the levle of the rest of Phnom Penh... must be a more elaborate story in this somewhere...
After this, there was more shopping to be done, so we headed to Psar Tom Thmey, the lragest market in PP, but it was closing, so Shop-Shop had to spen more time in a supermarket stocking up on pressies.
My Internet time is about to run out, so I'd better stop or I'll lose all this blog.
Bye
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Day 8 - 14th September - Tears in Heaven
Okay, so not a lot of action worth detailing today, so I'll choose a few words for those who don't want to read too much, and for those who want the full details, well, you can read on:
Packed
Ate
Played
Cried
Drove
Marvelled
Drove
Ate
Swam
Typed
I guess that sums it up. Maybe not in as much detail as usual, but really only a couple of things need explaining:
Leaving CCT was a sad affair. I have so much admiration for the staff there - none more than Jedtha whose life really has been turned upside down by its inception. He frequently has threats against both himself and his wife - but yet he still is prepared to do anything it takes to look after these children, whether it be boring day-to-day stuff, or dangerous stuff like tracking down stolen family members in Thai villages. He is an amazing person with whom I share some common personality thread. I can't quite name it, but it has much to do with social justice...
Many tears were shed. Pearon tried his best to keep up the tough face and hard exterior - but we could all see that he was hurting, too. The little boys (Heang and Hai) didn't seem quite so sure what was going on, Heang saying "See you tomorrow" in his hoarse, throaty little parrot voice. Even Jedtha seemed to on the verge of upset - but it is not common for Cambodian men to show emotions. Mind you, my little man Hing cried tears enough for the both of them.
We have all been touched deeply by this experience and I'm sure I speak for the others when I say that the only question we have is when we will next be able to see these wonderful children who have been through so many injustices, yet have so much to offer and from whom we have so much to learn.
After leaving, we visited the floating village at Kampong Chhnang (which means 'Port Pot'!!!). This was another of those eye-opening moments during which we saw things that were to some extent unimaginable. For example, it doesn't seem so weird to have a summer house and a winter house, but when they are in the same place, one above the other, it is pretty abnormal for us westerners. During the summer months, when it is very wet, people live in houses on stilts that are above the water level and use boats for transport. In winter, the dry season, they live in the downstairs house and use land transport, because the water recedes into the river bed.
Perhaps the strangest thing out on the water was the incredible number of floating houses with televisions. No - I just remembered - the strangest thing was most likely the floating Christian (I would say Catholic, as the area is mostly Vietnamese nationals) church. Bizarre! There are also floating restaurants, and even a bar with a very solid-looking eight ball table! Some of the more 'opulent' ones have outdoor toilet cubicles, rather than just a dump over the side... Some of these houses were quite large affairs, painted nicely and with what appeared to be their own karaoke machines, constrasted with the poorer versions that are made from grasses and bamboo thatching.
We arrived in Phnom Pehn somewhere around 6pm, and went to an hotel I had chosen - the Goldiana (crap name, I know). But is seemed okay for the $40 per night price tag (this includes breakfast, fitness centre and swimming pool - hooray say the girls!), so we decided to stay.
Dinner was fine, followed by a quick swim in the rain for the three youngsters of our group.
I'll go to bed tonight with 'Tears in Heaven'going through my head. Not the Eric Clapton version, but the Heang version, slightly sped up and with the words all wrong.
It's much better than the original...
Packed
Ate
Played
Cried
Drove
Marvelled
Drove
Ate
Swam
Typed
I guess that sums it up. Maybe not in as much detail as usual, but really only a couple of things need explaining:
Leaving CCT was a sad affair. I have so much admiration for the staff there - none more than Jedtha whose life really has been turned upside down by its inception. He frequently has threats against both himself and his wife - but yet he still is prepared to do anything it takes to look after these children, whether it be boring day-to-day stuff, or dangerous stuff like tracking down stolen family members in Thai villages. He is an amazing person with whom I share some common personality thread. I can't quite name it, but it has much to do with social justice...
Many tears were shed. Pearon tried his best to keep up the tough face and hard exterior - but we could all see that he was hurting, too. The little boys (Heang and Hai) didn't seem quite so sure what was going on, Heang saying "See you tomorrow" in his hoarse, throaty little parrot voice. Even Jedtha seemed to on the verge of upset - but it is not common for Cambodian men to show emotions. Mind you, my little man Hing cried tears enough for the both of them.
We have all been touched deeply by this experience and I'm sure I speak for the others when I say that the only question we have is when we will next be able to see these wonderful children who have been through so many injustices, yet have so much to offer and from whom we have so much to learn.
After leaving, we visited the floating village at Kampong Chhnang (which means 'Port Pot'!!!). This was another of those eye-opening moments during which we saw things that were to some extent unimaginable. For example, it doesn't seem so weird to have a summer house and a winter house, but when they are in the same place, one above the other, it is pretty abnormal for us westerners. During the summer months, when it is very wet, people live in houses on stilts that are above the water level and use boats for transport. In winter, the dry season, they live in the downstairs house and use land transport, because the water recedes into the river bed.
Perhaps the strangest thing out on the water was the incredible number of floating houses with televisions. No - I just remembered - the strangest thing was most likely the floating Christian (I would say Catholic, as the area is mostly Vietnamese nationals) church. Bizarre! There are also floating restaurants, and even a bar with a very solid-looking eight ball table! Some of the more 'opulent' ones have outdoor toilet cubicles, rather than just a dump over the side... Some of these houses were quite large affairs, painted nicely and with what appeared to be their own karaoke machines, constrasted with the poorer versions that are made from grasses and bamboo thatching.
We arrived in Phnom Pehn somewhere around 6pm, and went to an hotel I had chosen - the Goldiana (crap name, I know). But is seemed okay for the $40 per night price tag (this includes breakfast, fitness centre and swimming pool - hooray say the girls!), so we decided to stay.
Dinner was fine, followed by a quick swim in the rain for the three youngsters of our group.
I'll go to bed tonight with 'Tears in Heaven'going through my head. Not the Eric Clapton version, but the Heang version, slightly sped up and with the words all wrong.
It's much better than the original...
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Day 7 - 13th September - Bamboo Trains, Buddhist centre and a dancing parrot?
Not many words for today.
We started at a reasonably late 10am, and headed towards the outskirts of Battambang city for a ride on a 'bamboo train'. These are basically a couple of pairs of old train wheels, with a bamboo platform on top and a small petrol engine attached to one of the axels. They don't go very fast when you've got 20 people on them. Mind you, my 90+ kilos was probably equal to the weight of the other 19 individuals on my train. Little Cambodian kids do not weigh much.
After hopping off the tracks at a small stall, we bought some drinks and partook in some local fare - lychee-type fruit ice creams and banana-rice cakes. these are cooked inside a banana leaf, and are made of some kind of gooey stuff with rice and banana in the middle. CHINGAN!
Yet again, Trish made the journey into the private home of somebody to use their bathroom. We imagined asking someone in a shop in Australia if we could use the toilet in their attached residence. Fat chance! But trish has managed it three times over here... her toilet bLOG will be interesting!
After returning (they just lift the small platform up and turn it around so it goes the other way), with a quick stop for the boys driving the trains to jump off a small bridge into a rather brown creeky thing along the way (whilst still dressed in their fancy tight floral shirts and spunky jeans), we visited the local Buddhist centre for learning.
The Buddhist centre is not a temple, rather a place for people to visit to learn about Buddhism and to study prayer and meditation. It was an interesting place, but not really worth describing.
After lunch (and a nap for me!) we went back to CCT for a party. Great food and great dancing (well, great dancing from some, especially Heang, who copies everything you say - and who provided awesome entertainment by singing along with a couple of songs I played on the guitar; he had no idea what the words were, but he copied me almost perfectly and even in tune! Our little dancing parrot...).
There were also cockroaches and fried frogs for those of us brave enough to eat them. Florry tried both without too much fuss. I'm sure some people will find that hard to believe, but she definitely chewed and swallowed a fried frog and a fried cockroach. I prefer the roaches myself, but Florry thought the frog tasted better.
Also, rather than dobbing in people for being too chicken, let's just say that an adult whose name starts with 'F' and ends in 'iona' refused to eat any on humanitarian grounds. Not that she cared for the welfare of the little beasties, but because she didn't want to force us to watch her vomit it back up again. How thoughtful! But even Sophia and Felicity ate the leg of a frog. A bit like chewing on a small piece of stick, but a better effort than that of one of their mothers.
Everyone is now preparing to face the emotional farewall of tomorrow morning. It is going to be sad, but most of all wet. I don't know if it's forecast to rain, but I'm sure everyone's kramas will come out to mop up damp faces at some stage.
After CCT tomorrow morning, we head to Phnom Penh by way of Kampong Chnang to visit a floating Vietnamese village.
But for now, I need to get ready for the onslaught of leaving this wonderful place and its even more wonderful people behind.
Good night.
PS: Not many words? Did you actually believe that? Hah!
We started at a reasonably late 10am, and headed towards the outskirts of Battambang city for a ride on a 'bamboo train'. These are basically a couple of pairs of old train wheels, with a bamboo platform on top and a small petrol engine attached to one of the axels. They don't go very fast when you've got 20 people on them. Mind you, my 90+ kilos was probably equal to the weight of the other 19 individuals on my train. Little Cambodian kids do not weigh much.
After hopping off the tracks at a small stall, we bought some drinks and partook in some local fare - lychee-type fruit ice creams and banana-rice cakes. these are cooked inside a banana leaf, and are made of some kind of gooey stuff with rice and banana in the middle. CHINGAN!
Yet again, Trish made the journey into the private home of somebody to use their bathroom. We imagined asking someone in a shop in Australia if we could use the toilet in their attached residence. Fat chance! But trish has managed it three times over here... her toilet bLOG will be interesting!
After returning (they just lift the small platform up and turn it around so it goes the other way), with a quick stop for the boys driving the trains to jump off a small bridge into a rather brown creeky thing along the way (whilst still dressed in their fancy tight floral shirts and spunky jeans), we visited the local Buddhist centre for learning.
The Buddhist centre is not a temple, rather a place for people to visit to learn about Buddhism and to study prayer and meditation. It was an interesting place, but not really worth describing.
After lunch (and a nap for me!) we went back to CCT for a party. Great food and great dancing (well, great dancing from some, especially Heang, who copies everything you say - and who provided awesome entertainment by singing along with a couple of songs I played on the guitar; he had no idea what the words were, but he copied me almost perfectly and even in tune! Our little dancing parrot...).
There were also cockroaches and fried frogs for those of us brave enough to eat them. Florry tried both without too much fuss. I'm sure some people will find that hard to believe, but she definitely chewed and swallowed a fried frog and a fried cockroach. I prefer the roaches myself, but Florry thought the frog tasted better.
Also, rather than dobbing in people for being too chicken, let's just say that an adult whose name starts with 'F' and ends in 'iona' refused to eat any on humanitarian grounds. Not that she cared for the welfare of the little beasties, but because she didn't want to force us to watch her vomit it back up again. How thoughtful! But even Sophia and Felicity ate the leg of a frog. A bit like chewing on a small piece of stick, but a better effort than that of one of their mothers.
Everyone is now preparing to face the emotional farewall of tomorrow morning. It is going to be sad, but most of all wet. I don't know if it's forecast to rain, but I'm sure everyone's kramas will come out to mop up damp faces at some stage.
After CCT tomorrow morning, we head to Phnom Penh by way of Kampong Chnang to visit a floating Vietnamese village.
But for now, I need to get ready for the onslaught of leaving this wonderful place and its even more wonderful people behind.
Good night.
PS: Not many words? Did you actually believe that? Hah!
Friday, September 12, 2008
Day 6 - 12th September - Kamping Poy, Phnom Sampeau and a nasty surprise
We woke early so that we could make the most of the cooler morning weather on our planned trip to Kamping Poy and Phnom Sampeau.
Kamping Poy is a very large man-made lake. What I could see of it would be at least 100 hectares. It was dug by Cambodians under the 'supervision' of the Khmer Rouge during the mid-late seventies, to provide irrigation via man-made canals to the lower lying rice paddies.
Phnom Sampeau ('phnom' means mountain) is not a mountain at all - but in the Battambang province, it stands out (alongside the crocodile mountiain nearby - another story for another time) because the region is so flat apart from these few protrusions in the landscape. It has many buddhist shrines and stupa (shrines for worship, stupa for burial), as well as a number of caves into which you can venture. A number of these caves are renowned as being places of Khmer Rouge torture and murder. People who required 're-education' were thrown into these caves from holes in the cavern ceilings. Those who didn't die often crawled away to some corner of the caves to die slowly. Perhaps the lucky ones were the ones who were clubbed into unconsciousness before being thrown in. Some people were even beheaded. There are a number of small stupa inside the caves, in which the skulls and remaining bones of those killed here are stored as a shocking reminder of the atrocities innocent Cambodians were exposed to during the reign of Pol Pot's regime. Until recently, some of these remains still had clothes attached...
Anyway, we arrived at CCT after breakfast to discover that Fern and Jedtha were not there. They arrived soon enough, but by the body language between Fern, Florry, Fiona and Trish (who spoils the whole 'F'-ness of the quartet) I could tell something was wrong. During the night, Fern had been robbed. She watched a man reach in through her window and remove some of her belongings - including money and her mobile phone.
This is particularly scary because their security guard (who is a police officer) sits less then four metres from the place where the robbery occurred. This stinks of an inside job, and there is no way the security guard could have missed it.
Corruption reigns supreme in Cambodia.
So, with the arrival of five police officers and a guy wearing a green outift carrying a suitcase with an Australian coat of arms on it, it was decided that we should go ahead on our trip without Fern and Jedtha, who had police matters to deal with.
So, with an air of shcok and fear surrounding us, we left, hoping that Chomreun, our driver, had the English skills to get us through the day.
After an hour or so on pot-hole filled roads through the most amazing countryside imaginable, we arrived at Kamping Poy. The lake, named after a lotus-like plant that grows in its shallows, is a picture of beauty. The beautiful pink water liles are picked before maturation to provide a scrumptios fruit - locally named 'chou' - of which the ovaries are either eaten raw, tasty and mildly sweet, or cooked to give a mouth-watering, nutty flavour.
The Khmer new year sees it filled with locals swimming and relaxing amidst the reeds and under the hand-operated dam - consisting of about a dozen large wooden plates that are raised or lowered by way of giant corkscrew-type winching mechanisms.
Belying the beauty and serentiy of the place (how's the serenity? I hear you ask... indescribable, I think) it is estimated that 20,000 people died in the making of this lake. Sobered by this knowledge, I sat for a while imagining images of thousands of malnourished Khmer dressed in black 'pyjamas' digging their lives away, in the hope of providing their families with a chance at survival. Of young men thrust into roles as soldiers dragging away those unable to work any longer for 're-education'. Of women begging for their husbands and children to be given food and rest. Of children...
Oh, I forgot to mention that the entire CCT entourage was with us - excepting baby Annie - so two vans, 16 kids and 7 adults in total...
Getting out of the van was an experience to behold. We were mobbed by people holding laminated, coloured cards, without a word of English. Noit, one of the CCT staff, also does not speak English so at this point, I thought we were stuffed. I had no idea what was going on, what was being said, and why so many people were yelling at Noit. It is obvious in Cambodia when people want money. It's about the only time you see people yelling. They were trying to sell us something. Of course they were... that's what happens in Cambodia when you're white!
As it turned out, they were trying to get us to sit in their shelters. The going rate is 5,000 Riel ($US1.25) - but how the hell was I supposed to know where to go and which one to choose?
Thank God for Chomreun! He translated what a few people were saying, and, following the advice of a particularly beefy looking local man (you wouldn't describe many Cambodians using the word 'beefy'...) we went to look at the other side of the dam, on which we had parked. It looked suitable, so I picked a spot (oh, the pressure...) and that was it. Everyone left us alone, except the people whose 'spot' we had chosen.
The kids had a swim in the small, stepped pools coming down from the dam which had recently been closed because too much water was going through the canal. Hai and Heang stripped down to nothing and were straight into it, their frog-like bodies seeming to be at home in the water. I'm sure Felicity and Sophia thought this a little funnny - nude boys - but not as funny as Hai when he put his clothes back on - his best suit pants were torn between the legs for about 30cm, so everytime he moved, things jiggled about and poked out at you...
Soon enough, it was time for food. I didn't know what the CCT kids would eat - should they order for themselves? Should I do it? Should we just go, and pretend food doesn't exist?
Luckily, Noit came and did the job for the kids. I ordered some wild boar, whilst Florry, Fiona and Trish played it sensibly, following the gospel according to Lonely Planet, and didn't eat anything.
The food came, and we witnessed a true Cambodian meal. Fish soup, chicken curry, frogs in gravy all in little trays with wood-fires to keep them warm. The kinds seperated - boys, plus Som Nung one way, and the older girls the other. They shared impeccably, not even arguing over the best bits (the chicken feet are enjoyed by most).
When my meal arrived, I had much the same - a cute little metal dish kept warm by a fire in the donut-like recess in the middle, with a pot of rice. But then, an entire chicken was brought out, having just been killed and barbecued, as well as a little plate with some greens and some insignificant, dark-coloured ... blobs!
Yum! I'll say no more, except that my stomach is fine now, 12 hours later and that I got the best meal I have probably ever had!!! Nobody else did... chickens!!!
We left Kamping Poy and headed to Phnom Sampeau, where we were directed into little carports by some locals. If a local directs you to do something it always means one thing. Money. Even in remote Cambodia you have to pay parking fees!!!
-> see above desciption of Phnom Sampeau <-
Other than what is mentioned already, this area is stunning - coconut plams, banana trees and any number of edible goodies growing on the myriad of native plants. Particularly notable was this funny little furry fruit on a tree similar to a silver wattle. The older girls suck them and then get you to try one. When you bite into it they think it's funny, because they are quite sour.
Well, I liked it - as did So-Pee-Pee (the new name for Miss Doyle).
We soon headed back to CCT, and on to the White Rose Restaurant for dinner.
Great food. THE BEST shakes... REAL MILK, fake coffee - and a wonderful local wine made from ginger and palm sugar.
Fiona and Trish are now over the road from the hotel having massages... I may just have to partake in a bit of that myself...
Kamping Poy is a very large man-made lake. What I could see of it would be at least 100 hectares. It was dug by Cambodians under the 'supervision' of the Khmer Rouge during the mid-late seventies, to provide irrigation via man-made canals to the lower lying rice paddies.
Phnom Sampeau ('phnom' means mountain) is not a mountain at all - but in the Battambang province, it stands out (alongside the crocodile mountiain nearby - another story for another time) because the region is so flat apart from these few protrusions in the landscape. It has many buddhist shrines and stupa (shrines for worship, stupa for burial), as well as a number of caves into which you can venture. A number of these caves are renowned as being places of Khmer Rouge torture and murder. People who required 're-education' were thrown into these caves from holes in the cavern ceilings. Those who didn't die often crawled away to some corner of the caves to die slowly. Perhaps the lucky ones were the ones who were clubbed into unconsciousness before being thrown in. Some people were even beheaded. There are a number of small stupa inside the caves, in which the skulls and remaining bones of those killed here are stored as a shocking reminder of the atrocities innocent Cambodians were exposed to during the reign of Pol Pot's regime. Until recently, some of these remains still had clothes attached...
Anyway, we arrived at CCT after breakfast to discover that Fern and Jedtha were not there. They arrived soon enough, but by the body language between Fern, Florry, Fiona and Trish (who spoils the whole 'F'-ness of the quartet) I could tell something was wrong. During the night, Fern had been robbed. She watched a man reach in through her window and remove some of her belongings - including money and her mobile phone.
This is particularly scary because their security guard (who is a police officer) sits less then four metres from the place where the robbery occurred. This stinks of an inside job, and there is no way the security guard could have missed it.
Corruption reigns supreme in Cambodia.
So, with the arrival of five police officers and a guy wearing a green outift carrying a suitcase with an Australian coat of arms on it, it was decided that we should go ahead on our trip without Fern and Jedtha, who had police matters to deal with.
So, with an air of shcok and fear surrounding us, we left, hoping that Chomreun, our driver, had the English skills to get us through the day.
After an hour or so on pot-hole filled roads through the most amazing countryside imaginable, we arrived at Kamping Poy. The lake, named after a lotus-like plant that grows in its shallows, is a picture of beauty. The beautiful pink water liles are picked before maturation to provide a scrumptios fruit - locally named 'chou' - of which the ovaries are either eaten raw, tasty and mildly sweet, or cooked to give a mouth-watering, nutty flavour.
The Khmer new year sees it filled with locals swimming and relaxing amidst the reeds and under the hand-operated dam - consisting of about a dozen large wooden plates that are raised or lowered by way of giant corkscrew-type winching mechanisms.
Belying the beauty and serentiy of the place (how's the serenity? I hear you ask... indescribable, I think) it is estimated that 20,000 people died in the making of this lake. Sobered by this knowledge, I sat for a while imagining images of thousands of malnourished Khmer dressed in black 'pyjamas' digging their lives away, in the hope of providing their families with a chance at survival. Of young men thrust into roles as soldiers dragging away those unable to work any longer for 're-education'. Of women begging for their husbands and children to be given food and rest. Of children...
Oh, I forgot to mention that the entire CCT entourage was with us - excepting baby Annie - so two vans, 16 kids and 7 adults in total...
Getting out of the van was an experience to behold. We were mobbed by people holding laminated, coloured cards, without a word of English. Noit, one of the CCT staff, also does not speak English so at this point, I thought we were stuffed. I had no idea what was going on, what was being said, and why so many people were yelling at Noit. It is obvious in Cambodia when people want money. It's about the only time you see people yelling. They were trying to sell us something. Of course they were... that's what happens in Cambodia when you're white!
As it turned out, they were trying to get us to sit in their shelters. The going rate is 5,000 Riel ($US1.25) - but how the hell was I supposed to know where to go and which one to choose?
Thank God for Chomreun! He translated what a few people were saying, and, following the advice of a particularly beefy looking local man (you wouldn't describe many Cambodians using the word 'beefy'...) we went to look at the other side of the dam, on which we had parked. It looked suitable, so I picked a spot (oh, the pressure...) and that was it. Everyone left us alone, except the people whose 'spot' we had chosen.
The kids had a swim in the small, stepped pools coming down from the dam which had recently been closed because too much water was going through the canal. Hai and Heang stripped down to nothing and were straight into it, their frog-like bodies seeming to be at home in the water. I'm sure Felicity and Sophia thought this a little funnny - nude boys - but not as funny as Hai when he put his clothes back on - his best suit pants were torn between the legs for about 30cm, so everytime he moved, things jiggled about and poked out at you...
Soon enough, it was time for food. I didn't know what the CCT kids would eat - should they order for themselves? Should I do it? Should we just go, and pretend food doesn't exist?
Luckily, Noit came and did the job for the kids. I ordered some wild boar, whilst Florry, Fiona and Trish played it sensibly, following the gospel according to Lonely Planet, and didn't eat anything.
The food came, and we witnessed a true Cambodian meal. Fish soup, chicken curry, frogs in gravy all in little trays with wood-fires to keep them warm. The kinds seperated - boys, plus Som Nung one way, and the older girls the other. They shared impeccably, not even arguing over the best bits (the chicken feet are enjoyed by most).
When my meal arrived, I had much the same - a cute little metal dish kept warm by a fire in the donut-like recess in the middle, with a pot of rice. But then, an entire chicken was brought out, having just been killed and barbecued, as well as a little plate with some greens and some insignificant, dark-coloured ... blobs!
Yum! I'll say no more, except that my stomach is fine now, 12 hours later and that I got the best meal I have probably ever had!!! Nobody else did... chickens!!!
We left Kamping Poy and headed to Phnom Sampeau, where we were directed into little carports by some locals. If a local directs you to do something it always means one thing. Money. Even in remote Cambodia you have to pay parking fees!!!
-> see above desciption of Phnom Sampeau <-
Other than what is mentioned already, this area is stunning - coconut plams, banana trees and any number of edible goodies growing on the myriad of native plants. Particularly notable was this funny little furry fruit on a tree similar to a silver wattle. The older girls suck them and then get you to try one. When you bite into it they think it's funny, because they are quite sour.
Well, I liked it - as did So-Pee-Pee (the new name for Miss Doyle).
We soon headed back to CCT, and on to the White Rose Restaurant for dinner.
Great food. THE BEST shakes... REAL MILK, fake coffee - and a wonderful local wine made from ginger and palm sugar.
Fiona and Trish are now over the road from the hotel having massages... I may just have to partake in a bit of that myself...
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Day 5 - 11th September - Carrots? In fruit salad?
Okay, so today we experienced some weird 'western fusion' type things in Battambang, mainly to do with food. For example, who would make fruit salad with carrots in it? Hands up? Anyone?
Didn't think so.
And who would put cocoa and sweetened condensed milk on fruit salad with carrots in it? Didn't think so either...
And what about having a pretty cappucino sign on the wall, but not know what cappucino is?
What about a coffee drink that claims to be better than candy (and isn't, apparently)?
I'm sure there were other local oddities we experienced with regard to food, but I can't think of any right now.
So we delivered all of our goods to CCT this morning, and yet again I forgot to bring my suitcase back to the hotel. Out of five days so far, I have had my suitcase with me for nearly 48 hours. I left it at CCT last night, forgetting to remove all the books I had in it, so didn't have any clean clothers this morning, then forgot it again. I have it now, though, so I won't be quite so stinky tomorrow morning! Mind you, I nearly left it in the van when we got back to the hotel...
We had a look at the frog breeding setup - the frogs are big, like cane toads and they squeal like cats when you pick them up (not that any of us were brave enough to!).
After lunch, we went back to CCT and basically played for the afternoon - Fiona brought some AFL footballs, which Nacha took to like a Cambodian to weird food - with eagerness and ease. Most of these kids have gross motor skills that are ten times more advanced than kids their age in Tassie. There are some potential sporting stars here, if any talent scouts are reading!
We also played volleyball, Sey Tawat (have you worked it out yet?), keepings off and some weird chasing game that Sophia couldn't understand.
Hai was a little less high than last night.
We are starting to see the individual talents the kids have. One family (Torn, Too and Jet) are amazingly intelligent kids, who soak up everything. Jet is also quite skilful with balls, whilst Nacha has amazing motor skills and persists diligently on anything - physical or academic. He spent half an hour trying to remember how to spell Florry, Deon and King Kong. I wonder if he will remember tomorrow!
And as for baby Annie - everyone is in love with her and she is a master of getting attention when she wants it (or not!). She is very chubby for a Cambodian baby, too... well fed by everyone!
Som Nung is stubborn and persistent. She doesn't like to have things done for her, rather she wants to do things for herself, which given her background is absolutely brilliant. None of these children take anything for granted, and they all have a very independent attitude towards life. Alongside this, though, there is an amazing sense of care for their big family. Everyone looks after everyone else, and the big kids make sure the little kids tow the line.
Hing is an amazing artist. He is a tiny little guy who is about 12 years old, but he can do some great art - Nacha also does some brilliant drawings. Is there anything he can't do? Nacha's sisters are Sinet (who came to Tasmania) and Siniet, who is very ill, but very responaible - a bit like the big sister of everyone.
I will endeavour to leave a comment about each of the kids. It won't be hard, as they are all so open, friendly and affectionate. There are one or two who may be alittle hard to crack. But I'm sure we'll get there.
Tonight at dinner, I laid down a challenge to Sophia and Felicity - to order and eat their own meal, without leftovers. Tonight they shared pizza and chips and ate it all. This was a first, I think... by the end of this trip we'll have them eating spiders and frogs... maybe...
Didn't think so.
And who would put cocoa and sweetened condensed milk on fruit salad with carrots in it? Didn't think so either...
And what about having a pretty cappucino sign on the wall, but not know what cappucino is?
What about a coffee drink that claims to be better than candy (and isn't, apparently)?
I'm sure there were other local oddities we experienced with regard to food, but I can't think of any right now.
So we delivered all of our goods to CCT this morning, and yet again I forgot to bring my suitcase back to the hotel. Out of five days so far, I have had my suitcase with me for nearly 48 hours. I left it at CCT last night, forgetting to remove all the books I had in it, so didn't have any clean clothers this morning, then forgot it again. I have it now, though, so I won't be quite so stinky tomorrow morning! Mind you, I nearly left it in the van when we got back to the hotel...
We had a look at the frog breeding setup - the frogs are big, like cane toads and they squeal like cats when you pick them up (not that any of us were brave enough to!).
After lunch, we went back to CCT and basically played for the afternoon - Fiona brought some AFL footballs, which Nacha took to like a Cambodian to weird food - with eagerness and ease. Most of these kids have gross motor skills that are ten times more advanced than kids their age in Tassie. There are some potential sporting stars here, if any talent scouts are reading!
We also played volleyball, Sey Tawat (have you worked it out yet?), keepings off and some weird chasing game that Sophia couldn't understand.
Hai was a little less high than last night.
We are starting to see the individual talents the kids have. One family (Torn, Too and Jet) are amazingly intelligent kids, who soak up everything. Jet is also quite skilful with balls, whilst Nacha has amazing motor skills and persists diligently on anything - physical or academic. He spent half an hour trying to remember how to spell Florry, Deon and King Kong. I wonder if he will remember tomorrow!
And as for baby Annie - everyone is in love with her and she is a master of getting attention when she wants it (or not!). She is very chubby for a Cambodian baby, too... well fed by everyone!
Som Nung is stubborn and persistent. She doesn't like to have things done for her, rather she wants to do things for herself, which given her background is absolutely brilliant. None of these children take anything for granted, and they all have a very independent attitude towards life. Alongside this, though, there is an amazing sense of care for their big family. Everyone looks after everyone else, and the big kids make sure the little kids tow the line.
Hing is an amazing artist. He is a tiny little guy who is about 12 years old, but he can do some great art - Nacha also does some brilliant drawings. Is there anything he can't do? Nacha's sisters are Sinet (who came to Tasmania) and Siniet, who is very ill, but very responaible - a bit like the big sister of everyone.
I will endeavour to leave a comment about each of the kids. It won't be hard, as they are all so open, friendly and affectionate. There are one or two who may be alittle hard to crack. But I'm sure we'll get there.
Tonight at dinner, I laid down a challenge to Sophia and Felicity - to order and eat their own meal, without leftovers. Tonight they shared pizza and chips and ate it all. This was a first, I think... by the end of this trip we'll have them eating spiders and frogs... maybe...
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Day 4 - 10th September - Battambang and CCT
We arrived in Battambang after a 200km trip that took four hours - the road was a mess of mud, clay, unfinished bridges, and heavily-laden trucks coming from the Thai border and sliding all over the road. Only photos can do justice to this, so stay tuned, and eventually some photos will be posted.
Oh, the small pickup trucks with about 20 people all over them must also be mentioned - and the motorbikes: carrying anything from lives pigs on their backs to three thousand rolls of plastic rope precariously balanced in giant mounds on the back of the bike.
Our hotel, the Banan (named after the nearby ancient temple), is a wonderful French building redecorated with Khmer art. Almost everything is made of carved wood with a shine so glossy you can almost see your face in it.
Jedtha, the CCT director, came to show us where to go, so we finally made the trip to meet the CCT family.
It was great to get there and be mobbed by happy, excited children. This was the goal for our trip, and I'm sure no-one was disappointed. Gifts were given, words shared and Hai was high! My word, is he a little dynamo! He stands about three feet tall, and is like an untied balloon that has been blown up and let go - darting here and there, bouncing off things, making noises... And I'm sure that the kookaburra toy he received - which laughs when you squeeze it - is going to drive everyone completely bonkers! But that was Sinet's idea... so we can blame her!
After an hour and half of mayhem, we headed back to the Banan and to bed, with the comfort of knowing that for four days we don't have to travel, and that we can finally do a little bit of relaxing!
Oh, the small pickup trucks with about 20 people all over them must also be mentioned - and the motorbikes: carrying anything from lives pigs on their backs to three thousand rolls of plastic rope precariously balanced in giant mounds on the back of the bike.
Our hotel, the Banan (named after the nearby ancient temple), is a wonderful French building redecorated with Khmer art. Almost everything is made of carved wood with a shine so glossy you can almost see your face in it.
Jedtha, the CCT director, came to show us where to go, so we finally made the trip to meet the CCT family.
It was great to get there and be mobbed by happy, excited children. This was the goal for our trip, and I'm sure no-one was disappointed. Gifts were given, words shared and Hai was high! My word, is he a little dynamo! He stands about three feet tall, and is like an untied balloon that has been blown up and let go - darting here and there, bouncing off things, making noises... And I'm sure that the kookaburra toy he received - which laughs when you squeeze it - is going to drive everyone completely bonkers! But that was Sinet's idea... so we can blame her!
After an hour and half of mayhem, we headed back to the Banan and to bed, with the comfort of knowing that for four days we don't have to travel, and that we can finally do a little bit of relaxing!
Day 4 - 10th September - Culture Shock
Today was when the reality of life in Cambodia really hit home.
We had our breakfast at the Sydney - at last I got to have my fruit salad, muesli and yoghurt - and then met Solomon, the director of community projects at the Shinta Mani Hotel. Solomon was concerned that because it had bucketed down with rain all night long, we may not be able to make it to the home of the people for whom our water well was built. We decided to go anyway, and hope that we could clear this hurdle if it appeared (which given our GREAT run of luck on this trip, was not likely!).
The trip took us back through Angkor Wat to the Angkor Thom province.
Cambodia is separated into a number of provinces (like states) which in turn are divided into smaller districts. Each district is made up of a combination of towns or smaller regions called communes. A commune is like a village, but in farming areas, the communes are wide spread due to the distance between houses on farming land.
The further you go from the cities, the greater the poverty levels. The family we visited live only 45 minutes from Siem Reap, so are not so far away, yet they have almost nothing. One, maybe two, sets of clothes, cooking implements and some basic farming tools are all this family, consisting of a husband and wife and their five chilren, possess. The water well we have provided is a poly-pipe plunged 20-30m underground to reach the cleanest possible water, with a plunger type pump - a smaller piece of poly-pipe inserted into the opening of the pipe with a rubber seal on it to create the vacuum required to draw the water. The water is pumped into large buckets which sit on a concreted footing to assist with hygiene and to stop the area getting so muddy.
It will help them to have clean drinking water, as well as allow them to be able to water their crops - sugar cane, pumpkins, chillies, oranges and other local fruits. Unfortunately there is no infrastructure to allow for the irrigation of rice paddies, so at this point, only one harvest of rice is possible per year - during the wet season, as rice only grows if it is submerged, and it would be impossible to bucket enough water to submerge the two or three acres of rice paddies this family has.
The people were obviously extremely grateful. There was much bowing and thanking, although they spoke no English, we had a number of translators from Shinta Mani to help out.
The pigs had arrived, too. This family received two females, which at nine months will be mature enough to mate and breed their own piglets. There is a male pig nearby who will be brought to the farm to mate with the sows.
I could spend forever explaining the amazing sights (this place is so far removed from our safe, clean and excessive Australian lives) but you'll just have to ask one day, because there is too much to say. The culture shock was massive - an amazing eye-opener which is not experienced by many (although our well is the 900th built!) and will not be easily forgotten by our little troop.
Sophia and Felicity were obssessed by a small ground cover plant that, whose leaves, when touched, fold away like a fan. This plant has leaves very similar to those on a young wattle - they look kind of like a feather, and flowers like a melaleuca (paper bark). I wish I knew what it was!
We were then taken back to the Shinta Mani Hotel to have a quick tour. Everyone decided that this would be the place to stay. It is beautiful, it has a pool, a spa and the hospitality school attached is providing young Khmer with the chance to gain some skills and get good jobs.
At 2.15, after another mouth-watering meal, we departed Siem Reap on the road to Battambang (it's pronounced Battambong, if you haven't heard it said before).
We had our breakfast at the Sydney - at last I got to have my fruit salad, muesli and yoghurt - and then met Solomon, the director of community projects at the Shinta Mani Hotel. Solomon was concerned that because it had bucketed down with rain all night long, we may not be able to make it to the home of the people for whom our water well was built. We decided to go anyway, and hope that we could clear this hurdle if it appeared (which given our GREAT run of luck on this trip, was not likely!).
The trip took us back through Angkor Wat to the Angkor Thom province.
Cambodia is separated into a number of provinces (like states) which in turn are divided into smaller districts. Each district is made up of a combination of towns or smaller regions called communes. A commune is like a village, but in farming areas, the communes are wide spread due to the distance between houses on farming land.
The further you go from the cities, the greater the poverty levels. The family we visited live only 45 minutes from Siem Reap, so are not so far away, yet they have almost nothing. One, maybe two, sets of clothes, cooking implements and some basic farming tools are all this family, consisting of a husband and wife and their five chilren, possess. The water well we have provided is a poly-pipe plunged 20-30m underground to reach the cleanest possible water, with a plunger type pump - a smaller piece of poly-pipe inserted into the opening of the pipe with a rubber seal on it to create the vacuum required to draw the water. The water is pumped into large buckets which sit on a concreted footing to assist with hygiene and to stop the area getting so muddy.
It will help them to have clean drinking water, as well as allow them to be able to water their crops - sugar cane, pumpkins, chillies, oranges and other local fruits. Unfortunately there is no infrastructure to allow for the irrigation of rice paddies, so at this point, only one harvest of rice is possible per year - during the wet season, as rice only grows if it is submerged, and it would be impossible to bucket enough water to submerge the two or three acres of rice paddies this family has.
The people were obviously extremely grateful. There was much bowing and thanking, although they spoke no English, we had a number of translators from Shinta Mani to help out.
The pigs had arrived, too. This family received two females, which at nine months will be mature enough to mate and breed their own piglets. There is a male pig nearby who will be brought to the farm to mate with the sows.
I could spend forever explaining the amazing sights (this place is so far removed from our safe, clean and excessive Australian lives) but you'll just have to ask one day, because there is too much to say. The culture shock was massive - an amazing eye-opener which is not experienced by many (although our well is the 900th built!) and will not be easily forgotten by our little troop.
Sophia and Felicity were obssessed by a small ground cover plant that, whose leaves, when touched, fold away like a fan. This plant has leaves very similar to those on a young wattle - they look kind of like a feather, and flowers like a melaleuca (paper bark). I wish I knew what it was!
We were then taken back to the Shinta Mani Hotel to have a quick tour. Everyone decided that this would be the place to stay. It is beautiful, it has a pool, a spa and the hospitality school attached is providing young Khmer with the chance to gain some skills and get good jobs.
At 2.15, after another mouth-watering meal, we departed Siem Reap on the road to Battambang (it's pronounced Battambong, if you haven't heard it said before).
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Day 3 - 9th September - The Red Piano
Dinner. The Red Piano. Great food, with western hygiene. This claim was bound to keep everyone happy, so we sat down in the gecko-filled downstairs of this large establishment, and grabbed some menus.
Mmmm... our tummies were rumbling and our wallets were almost jumping from our pockets at the chance of some great local fare at $4 and under per main course... Getting to Cambodia is cheap compared to other places around the world. Staying here is even cheaper.
Lok lak [rumble rumble]
Ginger pork [rumble rumble]
Spaghetti Carbonara [rumble rumble]
Prawns in... hang on. Did I just say spaghetti carbonara? In Cambodia?
Yep. The girls were greatly appreciative of the pasta menu, and I was greatly appreciative of Sophia's 'one strand of spaghetti at a time' method of eating it. Maybe greatly amused is a better expression for it.
We left, completely full, to be harrassed by three local drivers blocking the exit, all yelling (with massive grins on their faces) "'Tuk tuk! Tuk tuk! Tuk tuk!". Luckily, we needed some. But only two...how to choose?
One of them kept saying "Sok sa bai" to me - I had met him before in the street, whilst talking to his friend. "Sok sa bai"is informal for "how are you". The informal reply is "Sok sa bai". You know? Same same, but different...
So I chose Mr Sok Sa Bai and we all headed back to the Sydney, Trish, Felicity and I in one trailer, Florry, Fiona and Sophia in the other. It must be explained that Tuk Tuks here are small trailers that could squeeze four people in (two front-facing and two back-facing) with little canopies over the top and pulled by a 125cc motor bike usually. Heaps of fun when the traffic is chaotic and everybody gives way (to the least extent possible) to everybody else.
From our tuk tuk (which was about 10 metres behind the others') we could hear Florry yelping. I think they were yelps of excitement/nervousness, not so muich yelps of joy.
When we arrived at the Sydney, their tuk tuk was doing donuts in the front yard, with the three of them still in it. I was jealous. It looked like fun.
We then played sey tawat (have you worked out what it is yet?) with the locals for a little while, before plunging into our beds to get our beauty sleep in preparation for about six hours of driving the next day.
Mmmm... our tummies were rumbling and our wallets were almost jumping from our pockets at the chance of some great local fare at $4 and under per main course... Getting to Cambodia is cheap compared to other places around the world. Staying here is even cheaper.
Lok lak [rumble rumble]
Ginger pork [rumble rumble]
Spaghetti Carbonara [rumble rumble]
Prawns in... hang on. Did I just say spaghetti carbonara? In Cambodia?
Yep. The girls were greatly appreciative of the pasta menu, and I was greatly appreciative of Sophia's 'one strand of spaghetti at a time' method of eating it. Maybe greatly amused is a better expression for it.
We left, completely full, to be harrassed by three local drivers blocking the exit, all yelling (with massive grins on their faces) "'Tuk tuk! Tuk tuk! Tuk tuk!". Luckily, we needed some. But only two...how to choose?
One of them kept saying "Sok sa bai" to me - I had met him before in the street, whilst talking to his friend. "Sok sa bai"is informal for "how are you". The informal reply is "Sok sa bai". You know? Same same, but different...
So I chose Mr Sok Sa Bai and we all headed back to the Sydney, Trish, Felicity and I in one trailer, Florry, Fiona and Sophia in the other. It must be explained that Tuk Tuks here are small trailers that could squeeze four people in (two front-facing and two back-facing) with little canopies over the top and pulled by a 125cc motor bike usually. Heaps of fun when the traffic is chaotic and everybody gives way (to the least extent possible) to everybody else.
From our tuk tuk (which was about 10 metres behind the others') we could hear Florry yelping. I think they were yelps of excitement/nervousness, not so muich yelps of joy.
When we arrived at the Sydney, their tuk tuk was doing donuts in the front yard, with the three of them still in it. I was jealous. It looked like fun.
We then played sey tawat (have you worked out what it is yet?) with the locals for a little while, before plunging into our beds to get our beauty sleep in preparation for about six hours of driving the next day.
Day 3 - 9th September - Fantasy Island
After we had all rested and rejuvenated we took the plunge, grabbed a tuk-tuk and hooned on down to the main strip in Siem Reap, and to the Angkor Night Market - where Fantasy Island meets Salamanca Market, and the cocktails are only $2... oh to think what would have happened had we not have had children with us... but it was great that Felicity shouted the first round... and it sure beats the Dover Hotel, hands down!
Okay, so Felicity didn't shout the first, or any, round...
We have come to realise just how difficult it is for Fiona to say no to anyone, for anything - it's just lucky we aren't in Bangkok, or who knows what she would be saying yes to!
The most hilarious example of this was earlier in the day when we had just left Ta Prohm (where the trees eat the temples, and a non-English speaking Khmer old dude pointed us towards where we were going by using only one word "Tombraider"!). Fiona went to buy a Tiger Beer shirt for her brother, spent at least 10 minutes whilst we were chips for the local seagulls (have I used that analogy before???), and finally emerged, heavily laden with great bargains that she didn't go looking for. The hawkers (people trying to sell you stuff), more like vultures if you ask me, had pretty much given up on me, having learnt to extremely useful Khmer phrase "ntai aw kun", which means "bugger off, I'm not interested in your junk", well, perhaps something less rude and more polite, but generally to the same effect. So Fiona was like fresh meat when she appeared with her pile of stuff. It was about to rain, and Fiona and Felicity had to virtually wade through the throng of pedlars. From in front I could hear Fiona's desperate attempts to get themk to leave her alone "No", "I don't want any", "I already have some". But then the noise stopped. I turned around and had to laugh - her hand was in her wallet and she had agreed to buy something, just to get them to leave her alone. It didn't work. I'm sure most people have this problem at Angkor Wat - the sellers are so persistent that you usually buy something to get them off your back. Vicious circle, really... and Felicity and Sophia really didn't like like it, so the night market was a breath of fresh air! People are less pushy, and sell for cheaper prices quite happily.
We overloaded oursleves with more stuff - let me just say that there is going to be a lot of "sey tawat" going on, when we get back... I bet you can't figure that one out!
We then trudged through the mud road (as opposed to dirt road) to a local supermarket, stocked up on western snack foods for the next few days, and headed off to find some dinner.
Okay, so Felicity didn't shout the first, or any, round...
We have come to realise just how difficult it is for Fiona to say no to anyone, for anything - it's just lucky we aren't in Bangkok, or who knows what she would be saying yes to!
The most hilarious example of this was earlier in the day when we had just left Ta Prohm (where the trees eat the temples, and a non-English speaking Khmer old dude pointed us towards where we were going by using only one word "Tombraider"!). Fiona went to buy a Tiger Beer shirt for her brother, spent at least 10 minutes whilst we were chips for the local seagulls (have I used that analogy before???), and finally emerged, heavily laden with great bargains that she didn't go looking for. The hawkers (people trying to sell you stuff), more like vultures if you ask me, had pretty much given up on me, having learnt to extremely useful Khmer phrase "ntai aw kun", which means "bugger off, I'm not interested in your junk", well, perhaps something less rude and more polite, but generally to the same effect. So Fiona was like fresh meat when she appeared with her pile of stuff. It was about to rain, and Fiona and Felicity had to virtually wade through the throng of pedlars. From in front I could hear Fiona's desperate attempts to get themk to leave her alone "No", "I don't want any", "I already have some". But then the noise stopped. I turned around and had to laugh - her hand was in her wallet and she had agreed to buy something, just to get them to leave her alone. It didn't work. I'm sure most people have this problem at Angkor Wat - the sellers are so persistent that you usually buy something to get them off your back. Vicious circle, really... and Felicity and Sophia really didn't like like it, so the night market was a breath of fresh air! People are less pushy, and sell for cheaper prices quite happily.
We overloaded oursleves with more stuff - let me just say that there is going to be a lot of "sey tawat" going on, when we get back... I bet you can't figure that one out!
We then trudged through the mud road (as opposed to dirt road) to a local supermarket, stocked up on western snack foods for the next few days, and headed off to find some dinner.
Day 3 - 9th September - Siem Reap
Buoyed by the timely return of our baggage, but certainly not by our confidence in Jetstar, we took our 3.20am wake-up call by the throat, jumped into our maxi taxi and headed towards Changi airport for the second of four visits. We checked our luggage in, this time ensuring that our own individual items were checked in under our own individual names, unlike the way a certain individual member of a certain individual airline did it in Australia...
We were asked many questions, and the Jetstar Asia hostess was very particular about ensuring that it was all done according to the book - I think there was a note on our booking that said "DO NOT LOSE LUGGAGE. CUSTOMERS MAY BECOME AGITATED OR EVEN VIOLENT".
We boarded our plane on time, only to be forced to wait for about 20 minutes due to two things: firstly, a passenger had checked in and not boarded the plane; secondly, a booking with nine items of baggage had something missing. HOLD ON! we were all thinking. WE HAVE NINE ITEMS OF BAGGAGE!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
But when we arrived at the gorgeously cute Siem Reap International Airport, it was all there. Who knows what may have happened. But we, and our donations, had arrived in our country of destination.
Funny Khmer man grabbed Fiona and/or Trish and 'helped' with visas. He tried to charge an extra five dollars per person, as 'a tip', but failed. Mind you, he did get about ten extra dollars. Our first real scam - sure to be one of many!
We left the building and were greeted, in true royal fashion, by Dara, our driver. Except, Dara wasn't going to be our driver, but he came to meet us. He introduced us to our driver - Chomroeun (try pronouncing that!!!) and travelled with us to the hotel he had booked for us.
Funny, funny Dara says: "Because you are from Australia... we book you into Sydney". The name of our hotel is the Sydney Angkor Hotel. It's rather nice, and at $17 per night per twin room, it's a steal!
By now, it was after 8am (is that all???) and we eventually made our way to the Angkor Wat temple complex. I'm not going to describe it, because it's too massive. But I will say that our party was not prepared for HOW massive it is, and what a trip out there entails. Some of us also forgot to eat breakfast, so were in desperate need of an energy boost by about 10.30am.
We marvelled at the huge piles of rocks, and gaped at the details of the amazing bas relief carvings (how the hell do you pronounced that? Is it bas like a sheep, or bas like the nickname you give your mate Barry? Leave a comment to let me know!). We did a fair bit more of the same, amongst which we ate a fairly traditional Cambodian meal - curries, noodles, spring rolls, fruits, coconut etc.
By three o'clock we were all stuffed (with food, and by the humidity and temperature) and most of us had well and truly had enough of being poked and prodded by the millions of hawkers trying to sell us everything from water or tshirts, to puppets and weird musical instruments.
Then, the thunder struck. And we fled before were caught in it. Much like last night, we just beat the rain to the van, and so managed to stay dry.
Right now, at 4.15pm, I reckon everyone else is either asleep or in the bath.
I think I might go do the same.
We were asked many questions, and the Jetstar Asia hostess was very particular about ensuring that it was all done according to the book - I think there was a note on our booking that said "DO NOT LOSE LUGGAGE. CUSTOMERS MAY BECOME AGITATED OR EVEN VIOLENT".
We boarded our plane on time, only to be forced to wait for about 20 minutes due to two things: firstly, a passenger had checked in and not boarded the plane; secondly, a booking with nine items of baggage had something missing. HOLD ON! we were all thinking. WE HAVE NINE ITEMS OF BAGGAGE!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
But when we arrived at the gorgeously cute Siem Reap International Airport, it was all there. Who knows what may have happened. But we, and our donations, had arrived in our country of destination.
Funny Khmer man grabbed Fiona and/or Trish and 'helped' with visas. He tried to charge an extra five dollars per person, as 'a tip', but failed. Mind you, he did get about ten extra dollars. Our first real scam - sure to be one of many!
We left the building and were greeted, in true royal fashion, by Dara, our driver. Except, Dara wasn't going to be our driver, but he came to meet us. He introduced us to our driver - Chomroeun (try pronouncing that!!!) and travelled with us to the hotel he had booked for us.
Funny, funny Dara says: "Because you are from Australia... we book you into Sydney". The name of our hotel is the Sydney Angkor Hotel. It's rather nice, and at $17 per night per twin room, it's a steal!
By now, it was after 8am (is that all???) and we eventually made our way to the Angkor Wat temple complex. I'm not going to describe it, because it's too massive. But I will say that our party was not prepared for HOW massive it is, and what a trip out there entails. Some of us also forgot to eat breakfast, so were in desperate need of an energy boost by about 10.30am.
We marvelled at the huge piles of rocks, and gaped at the details of the amazing bas relief carvings (how the hell do you pronounced that? Is it bas like a sheep, or bas like the nickname you give your mate Barry? Leave a comment to let me know!). We did a fair bit more of the same, amongst which we ate a fairly traditional Cambodian meal - curries, noodles, spring rolls, fruits, coconut etc.
By three o'clock we were all stuffed (with food, and by the humidity and temperature) and most of us had well and truly had enough of being poked and prodded by the millions of hawkers trying to sell us everything from water or tshirts, to puppets and weird musical instruments.
Then, the thunder struck. And we fled before were caught in it. Much like last night, we just beat the rain to the van, and so managed to stay dry.
Right now, at 4.15pm, I reckon everyone else is either asleep or in the bath.
I think I might go do the same.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Day 2 - 8th September - NEWS FLASH
News just in STOP
Baggage arrived STOP
Have everything we now need STOP
WOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOO STOP
YIPPEEEE!!!!
Baggage arrived STOP
Have everything we now need STOP
WOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOO STOP
YIPPEEEE!!!!
Day 2 - 8th September - insurance, shopping, orchids, animals and, you guessed it, more rain!
Well, the rain DID stop - quite quickly, actually. It's weird - it suddenly buckets down, then just as suddenly stops... I think somebody upstairs is playing with us...
A thought jumped into my head, which brought some positives after a short phone call. TRAVEL INSURANCE COVERS YOU FOR DELAYED LUGGAGE! So, we are able to spend up to $250 to fit ourselves out with the necessities. That's good. Very good, because shopping in Singapore isn't cheap, unless you go to the dodgy cheap shops... with names like "Singapore's Cheapest Shop" and "3 for $10" (a slightly more expensive version of the $2 shop).
After breakfast with Fiona's brother and his family, we decided to hit the town (well, the nearest bits of it, at least) to see what was on offer.
I walked into the Sim Lim Square electronics centre at about 9.30am. Unfortunately, I still had my digital SLR camera hanging around my neck, which did to a local camera shop salesperson what the grail shaped beacon from 'the castle Anthrax' did to Sir Bedevere the Chaste - made him, well, a bit too excited (this is a Monty Python reference, for anyone who cares).
He swooped upon me like a seagull on a stray chip, trying to sell me the most expensive lens on the shelf. I asked how much it was, and he didn't tell me - he wanted to SHOW me how good it was. After playing along for fear of upsetting him, he finally revealed that it was $785 - ie WAY outside my budget. When I said it was too much and I didn't have that much money, he took this as haggling, and offered to trade in my old zoom lens, which is made in China - nowhere near as good as his made in Japan version... I shied at this, saying I didn't have enough money, so he brought the price down to $650. I said I couldn't afford it and started to look around his shop, when he accused me of wasting his time, complaining that he had offered me a good price, and that I should get out of the mall and drink coffee until after 11am, when the pretend customers come in. So apparently, only REAL shoppers come early in the morning, and you aren't allowed to enter this complex without buying anything until after 11am. Weird. In fact, Singapore on the whole is pretty weird...
Afterwards, my rancid feet were getting to me - my Keens outdoor-type suede sandal things do not absorb the stench from well worn feet - so every time I take them off, anyone in the nearby vacinity is confronted with some odour akin to a punch from OJ Simpson - if it knocks you out, you are lucky, because you won't feel the killer blow about to follow. Dodgy analogy, I know - but it's nearly 11am, and my body still thinks it's nearly 1am...
What was I saying? Oh yeah - feet. I went for a pedicure, which was great, but I still had the Keens odour repellant issue, so I had to get some new footwear to battle the chemical warfare I was waging on Little India.
With this done, and a brand new purple, shimmering toe-nail only slightly tarnished due to the impossibility of nail varnish drying in 90% humidity, we embarked on a search for food and some more replacement clothes, for those of us unfortunate enough to be deprived of our own.
Sophia and Felicity opted for a very courageous lunch - Burger King (I hear your gasps of horror - how can they eat such food? I'm not sure, myself). Florry and myself had some lovely deer and a weird dish called 'cereal prawns' - deep fried whole prawns covered in something similar to crushed cornflakes. Very yummy - I was even brave enough to eat legs, shell and tail - I couldn't bring myself to devour the heads, though. Those beady little eyes reminded me too much of the shrimp on the last few Muppetts productions... whatever his name was...
We then progressed to the Singapore Botanic Gardens - an amazingly humungous place which, out of kilter with everything else in Singapore, doesn't cost you to visit.
It does cost you, however, to visit the Orchid part. But it is AMAZING. Apart from all the weird plastic looking flowers, the glee that Sophia and Felicity showed in the cool room - a very wet and artificially misty glasshouse - was worth the ten dollar entry fee in itself.
It was quite rewarding here, also, to watch an annoying little American kid throw a tantrum, and make his baseball go into a large pond. I'm not sure whether or not his father retrieved it, but if I were him, I'd have thrown the kid in and left him there to be sucked to death by the resident catfish and turtles. Surely one less would contribute to making this world a better place?
From here we went to the Night Safari at the Singapore Zoo - a Hollywood inspired production with staged appearances from a wide variety of nocturnal and omni-urnal (I made that word up...) animals who when you walk (or ride in the 'tram') past, are thrown food by keepers to make them move so that customers get their money worth.
The 'tram' ride was interesting - mainly due to the weird guide who kept reminding us that we were "very luck tonight" in his somewhat camp, over-enthusiastic, Americanised-Asian accent. We weren't lucky - it was no coincidence that the keeper was standing with two elephants by the side of the road... it was not luck that the tiger was given the world's largest blade steak for dinner right next to the viewing platform... and as for those bloody tourists who kept flashing their cameras off every two minutes, despite being reminded not to every other two minutes...
I also made the brave-ish decision to try sting ray for dinner. Luckily, I also ordered another dish of lamb satay, as the sting ray was weird - very salty like dried fish. Sophia was SOOO brave that she ate a microgram of it, smothered in satay sauce. Felicity, on the other hand, ate a small portion purely for bragging rights over 'Dan the Man', I think. Good work girls!!!
In typical Singaporean fashion, it started to bucket down with rain just as we were leaving the zoo. Luckily (luck? this a first on this trip!) we had already made it into our maxi taxi, and for once, I arrived first. Only because I was sitting in the front seat, but still, it's a win. Every other taxi ride, Florry and I have had a slow driver who has gone the wrong way. But we got good advice and instruction in the finer points of Singapore's culture, so it's been worth the extra 20 cents we've had to pay each time!
Our taxi outdrove the rain, emerging from the deluge into dryness. We got out of the taxt, into our guesthouse, only for the rain to catch up with us. But we made it back, dry and tired, ready for about 4 hours' sleep followed by a 3.30am wake up call to be ready for our 6am flight to Siem Reap tomorrow morning.
Who knows where the luggage is... who knows when we might see it next... who knows when I will next get to write anything on this blog...
A thought jumped into my head, which brought some positives after a short phone call. TRAVEL INSURANCE COVERS YOU FOR DELAYED LUGGAGE! So, we are able to spend up to $250 to fit ourselves out with the necessities. That's good. Very good, because shopping in Singapore isn't cheap, unless you go to the dodgy cheap shops... with names like "Singapore's Cheapest Shop" and "3 for $10" (a slightly more expensive version of the $2 shop).
After breakfast with Fiona's brother and his family, we decided to hit the town (well, the nearest bits of it, at least) to see what was on offer.
I walked into the Sim Lim Square electronics centre at about 9.30am. Unfortunately, I still had my digital SLR camera hanging around my neck, which did to a local camera shop salesperson what the grail shaped beacon from 'the castle Anthrax' did to Sir Bedevere the Chaste - made him, well, a bit too excited (this is a Monty Python reference, for anyone who cares).
He swooped upon me like a seagull on a stray chip, trying to sell me the most expensive lens on the shelf. I asked how much it was, and he didn't tell me - he wanted to SHOW me how good it was. After playing along for fear of upsetting him, he finally revealed that it was $785 - ie WAY outside my budget. When I said it was too much and I didn't have that much money, he took this as haggling, and offered to trade in my old zoom lens, which is made in China - nowhere near as good as his made in Japan version... I shied at this, saying I didn't have enough money, so he brought the price down to $650. I said I couldn't afford it and started to look around his shop, when he accused me of wasting his time, complaining that he had offered me a good price, and that I should get out of the mall and drink coffee until after 11am, when the pretend customers come in. So apparently, only REAL shoppers come early in the morning, and you aren't allowed to enter this complex without buying anything until after 11am. Weird. In fact, Singapore on the whole is pretty weird...
Afterwards, my rancid feet were getting to me - my Keens outdoor-type suede sandal things do not absorb the stench from well worn feet - so every time I take them off, anyone in the nearby vacinity is confronted with some odour akin to a punch from OJ Simpson - if it knocks you out, you are lucky, because you won't feel the killer blow about to follow. Dodgy analogy, I know - but it's nearly 11am, and my body still thinks it's nearly 1am...
What was I saying? Oh yeah - feet. I went for a pedicure, which was great, but I still had the Keens odour repellant issue, so I had to get some new footwear to battle the chemical warfare I was waging on Little India.
With this done, and a brand new purple, shimmering toe-nail only slightly tarnished due to the impossibility of nail varnish drying in 90% humidity, we embarked on a search for food and some more replacement clothes, for those of us unfortunate enough to be deprived of our own.
Sophia and Felicity opted for a very courageous lunch - Burger King (I hear your gasps of horror - how can they eat such food? I'm not sure, myself). Florry and myself had some lovely deer and a weird dish called 'cereal prawns' - deep fried whole prawns covered in something similar to crushed cornflakes. Very yummy - I was even brave enough to eat legs, shell and tail - I couldn't bring myself to devour the heads, though. Those beady little eyes reminded me too much of the shrimp on the last few Muppetts productions... whatever his name was...
We then progressed to the Singapore Botanic Gardens - an amazingly humungous place which, out of kilter with everything else in Singapore, doesn't cost you to visit.
It does cost you, however, to visit the Orchid part. But it is AMAZING. Apart from all the weird plastic looking flowers, the glee that Sophia and Felicity showed in the cool room - a very wet and artificially misty glasshouse - was worth the ten dollar entry fee in itself.
It was quite rewarding here, also, to watch an annoying little American kid throw a tantrum, and make his baseball go into a large pond. I'm not sure whether or not his father retrieved it, but if I were him, I'd have thrown the kid in and left him there to be sucked to death by the resident catfish and turtles. Surely one less would contribute to making this world a better place?
From here we went to the Night Safari at the Singapore Zoo - a Hollywood inspired production with staged appearances from a wide variety of nocturnal and omni-urnal (I made that word up...) animals who when you walk (or ride in the 'tram') past, are thrown food by keepers to make them move so that customers get their money worth.
The 'tram' ride was interesting - mainly due to the weird guide who kept reminding us that we were "very luck tonight" in his somewhat camp, over-enthusiastic, Americanised-Asian accent. We weren't lucky - it was no coincidence that the keeper was standing with two elephants by the side of the road... it was not luck that the tiger was given the world's largest blade steak for dinner right next to the viewing platform... and as for those bloody tourists who kept flashing their cameras off every two minutes, despite being reminded not to every other two minutes...
I also made the brave-ish decision to try sting ray for dinner. Luckily, I also ordered another dish of lamb satay, as the sting ray was weird - very salty like dried fish. Sophia was SOOO brave that she ate a microgram of it, smothered in satay sauce. Felicity, on the other hand, ate a small portion purely for bragging rights over 'Dan the Man', I think. Good work girls!!!
In typical Singaporean fashion, it started to bucket down with rain just as we were leaving the zoo. Luckily (luck? this a first on this trip!) we had already made it into our maxi taxi, and for once, I arrived first. Only because I was sitting in the front seat, but still, it's a win. Every other taxi ride, Florry and I have had a slow driver who has gone the wrong way. But we got good advice and instruction in the finer points of Singapore's culture, so it's been worth the extra 20 cents we've had to pay each time!
Our taxi outdrove the rain, emerging from the deluge into dryness. We got out of the taxt, into our guesthouse, only for the rain to catch up with us. But we made it back, dry and tired, ready for about 4 hours' sleep followed by a 3.30am wake up call to be ready for our 6am flight to Siem Reap tomorrow morning.
Who knows where the luggage is... who knows when we might see it next... who knows when I will next get to write anything on this blog...
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Day 2 - 8th September - Rain
Woke up this morning from the strangest dream... there was a man singing outside my room, or so it seemed...
Actually, there was someone singing outside at 5.30am. Something to do with a temple somewhere.
I had a shower, but couldn't turn the water off. Unfortunately, I could turn the shower water off, but it had suddenly began to pour with rain.
Great...
And now I've caught up with time, and it's 6.30am with, according to our host, no end in sight to the deluge that is drenching Singapore. What else can go wrong???
Actually, there was someone singing outside at 5.30am. Something to do with a temple somewhere.
I had a shower, but couldn't turn the water off. Unfortunately, I could turn the shower water off, but it had suddenly began to pour with rain.
Great...
And now I've caught up with time, and it's 6.30am with, according to our host, no end in sight to the deluge that is drenching Singapore. What else can go wrong???
Day 1 - 7th September - Changi International Airport
So we were waiting for our luggage. Nine items, a few huge ones (mine weighed nearly 32kg), and two trolleys with which to take them to the taxi rank.
An hour later we were with 6 items, two trolleys and some increasingly explosive blood pressure.
Three of our nine bags had gone AWOL somwhere between Sydney and Singapore and no-one could tell us where they might be. Mind you, I thought at the time that perhaps they were attached to the nose of the plane with the wing that was removed and reattached... who nose? (knows... get it? funny joke, right?)
A few forms were filled out, and we were on our way, praying to God that our bags would enjoy their flight to Ho Chi Minh City (this is where I assumed they must have gone from Darwin, preferring Vietnam as a destination, than Singapore) and catch us up the next day.
We went to the money exchange people, got horrible rates for our Aussie dollars, and the stress got to one of us, who, by way of mouth, made some extra work for one of the myriad of cleaners pushing little mop buckets and brooms around the place. To save embarassment, I'll never mention this again...
The taxi line was by now getting close to one hundred people long, but we joined it anyway, not having the patience left to go and find the limousine service that we so deserved.
Our taxi men both claimed to know where they were going, until the road split and they went different ways.
Toh (one of the drivers) was sure that he was going the right way - mind you, he took the slow road, with the other driver taking a slightly faster one.
We made it to our hotel - the Perak in Little India, to the sighty of Fiona rummaging stressfully through her bags looking for Felicity's passport which seemed to be missing. Felicity had been in the slower taxi with Florry and myself and said she thought her mum had it, but had a look in her bag to no avail. She WAS right though, I believe. Fiona did have it... In fact, I'm not sure who had it, as I was paying more attention to my own beating heart and stress levels which were at their peak... the last seven days have certainly been a roller coaster ride of emotions that until I get my clothes back will not plunge!
Got into bed. Turned on the television. Mother asks whether I think the cats will be on TV (jokingly). Son makes some derogatory remark about this being Asia and her being worse than her husband. Cats appear on TV.
Thank God for the AUSTRALIAN NETWORK!!!
Sleep.
An hour later we were with 6 items, two trolleys and some increasingly explosive blood pressure.
Three of our nine bags had gone AWOL somwhere between Sydney and Singapore and no-one could tell us where they might be. Mind you, I thought at the time that perhaps they were attached to the nose of the plane with the wing that was removed and reattached... who nose? (knows... get it? funny joke, right?)
A few forms were filled out, and we were on our way, praying to God that our bags would enjoy their flight to Ho Chi Minh City (this is where I assumed they must have gone from Darwin, preferring Vietnam as a destination, than Singapore) and catch us up the next day.
We went to the money exchange people, got horrible rates for our Aussie dollars, and the stress got to one of us, who, by way of mouth, made some extra work for one of the myriad of cleaners pushing little mop buckets and brooms around the place. To save embarassment, I'll never mention this again...
The taxi line was by now getting close to one hundred people long, but we joined it anyway, not having the patience left to go and find the limousine service that we so deserved.
Our taxi men both claimed to know where they were going, until the road split and they went different ways.
Toh (one of the drivers) was sure that he was going the right way - mind you, he took the slow road, with the other driver taking a slightly faster one.
We made it to our hotel - the Perak in Little India, to the sighty of Fiona rummaging stressfully through her bags looking for Felicity's passport which seemed to be missing. Felicity had been in the slower taxi with Florry and myself and said she thought her mum had it, but had a look in her bag to no avail. She WAS right though, I believe. Fiona did have it... In fact, I'm not sure who had it, as I was paying more attention to my own beating heart and stress levels which were at their peak... the last seven days have certainly been a roller coaster ride of emotions that until I get my clothes back will not plunge!
Got into bed. Turned on the television. Mother asks whether I think the cats will be on TV (jokingly). Son makes some derogatory remark about this being Asia and her being worse than her husband. Cats appear on TV.
Thank God for the AUSTRALIAN NETWORK!!!
Sleep.
Day 1 - 7th September - Flying
Okay...so this Godly trip started at some UNgodly hour of the morning, preparing for our 6.10am flight from Hobart to Sydney. This all went according to schedule, until we proceeded to attempt to check in for our onward flight to Darwin. Apparently Jetstar have an international check-in desk at their domestic terminal (is this weird, or is it just me?) - so we were at the wrong desk and had some trouble until our kind hostess called in one of the international staff who checked us in with what seemed (oh, retrospect is a great thing) to be relatively little fuss. Excepting the facts that 6 people with 9 bags to be checked in slightly confused her, and the randomly assigned luggage items, we appeared to be moving in good time.
But the problems with this were to become evident later in the day!
We boarded our flight, only to have to wait an extra 30 minutes due to some baggage problems (do you hear the alarm bells???). We were told that an item of baggage was missing and that, once they had retrieved it, it was realised that the luggage had been stowed incorrectly, and that the ground crew "had to remove a part of the plane and stow it elsewhere". I don't know about you - but I don't like the sound of 'removing a part of the plane'. My brain was imagining the wing being removed and reattached on the nose. Or the landing gear being moved to the top of the plane so we had to land upside down...
Finally, the plane left the tarmac and after more than five hours of tedium, we landed in Darwin, about 40 minutes late.
We were rushed through customs to make our next flight, which again all happened with little fuss. Well, when I say 'little', I mean with Fiona having to remove copious amounts of liquids and gels and stow them in little plastic bags (because these are terrorist-proof, and everyone knows you can't make bombs with liquids once they have been put in little ziplock bags!).
So we were leaving the country.
This flight went pretty smoothly, landing in Singapore after 4 hours of loud, raucous conversation in the two rows in front of us. There is something that people say about Italians and talking. I can't remember what it is, exactly, but on that flight it would have involved quite a few expletives. But after being politely asked by yours truly to quieten down, we had one minute of respite before the main culprit started up again.
Eventually, she got tired from all her banter, and decided to have short kip - about 15 minutes before touchdown... I feel like calling her all manner of names here, but shall refrain.
We disembarked, went to get our baggage, and here is where the BIG problems began...
But the problems with this were to become evident later in the day!
We boarded our flight, only to have to wait an extra 30 minutes due to some baggage problems (do you hear the alarm bells???). We were told that an item of baggage was missing and that, once they had retrieved it, it was realised that the luggage had been stowed incorrectly, and that the ground crew "had to remove a part of the plane and stow it elsewhere". I don't know about you - but I don't like the sound of 'removing a part of the plane'. My brain was imagining the wing being removed and reattached on the nose. Or the landing gear being moved to the top of the plane so we had to land upside down...
Finally, the plane left the tarmac and after more than five hours of tedium, we landed in Darwin, about 40 minutes late.
We were rushed through customs to make our next flight, which again all happened with little fuss. Well, when I say 'little', I mean with Fiona having to remove copious amounts of liquids and gels and stow them in little plastic bags (because these are terrorist-proof, and everyone knows you can't make bombs with liquids once they have been put in little ziplock bags!).
So we were leaving the country.
This flight went pretty smoothly, landing in Singapore after 4 hours of loud, raucous conversation in the two rows in front of us. There is something that people say about Italians and talking. I can't remember what it is, exactly, but on that flight it would have involved quite a few expletives. But after being politely asked by yours truly to quieten down, we had one minute of respite before the main culprit started up again.
Eventually, she got tired from all her banter, and decided to have short kip - about 15 minutes before touchdown... I feel like calling her all manner of names here, but shall refrain.
We disembarked, went to get our baggage, and here is where the BIG problems began...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)