December 18, 2005
Black and Blue in Chiang Mai (Day 80)
A childish cheeky rhyme that brings back memories from high school actually seems fitting for the moment:
It was fun, but now it's done.
In some ways it's fitting for this entire trip, but at the moment I'm refering to the Trio. Yes, it's sad but true, the Trio has split.
After "The Worst Night Yet" we had one of the best nights yet. We had a true night on the town in Bangkok. Starting off with wine, then spicy street noodles, then more wine, then mojitos, dancing and of course lots of reminiscing.
At 3:30 am we found ourselves searching for a last banana pancake for Antonia.
Now, let me give you a quick lesson about western food when you're not in the "west":
Whatever you're expecting...it's not going to be that.
For example, here, "pancakes" are actually more like crepes. In all honesty they're light roti with sweet stuff instead of curry. So, if you're expecting to get a nice fluffy 
Aunt Jemimas pancake, you better think again. But, then again, if one morning you're really craving a nice light crepeish creation, you're probably gonna get an IHOP pancake. The key to food is to expect nothing.* They are a tastey late night snack though (although I've never purchased my own, bites are sufficent to reach this conclusion). The vendors have these flat grills where they spread out a pizza like dough. As it begins to bubble, they put whatever your heart desires in the center. Jam, bananas, coconut, strawberries, condensed milk, chocolate. Then they fold it in a square, only after adding another pad of butter, and drizzle a bit more sweet goodness on top.
Aunt Jemimas pancake, you better think again. But, then again, if one morning you're really craving a nice light crepeish creation, you're probably gonna get an IHOP pancake. The key to food is to expect nothing.* They are a tastey late night snack though (although I've never purchased my own, bites are sufficent to reach this conclusion). The vendors have these flat grills where they spread out a pizza like dough. As it begins to bubble, they put whatever your heart desires in the center. Jam, bananas, coconut, strawberries, condensed milk, chocolate. Then they fold it in a square, only after adding another pad of butter, and drizzle a bit more sweet goodness on top.During our search we ran into an English woman about mid 30's selling street food. At first I didn't know what to think of her. I mean selling street food at 3am on the corner of Kho San road seems just about one of the crappiest jobs I could imagine. Unfortunately, during our conversation I didn't get any insite as to why she'd moved from England and chosen this new profession, but I could see she wasn't crazy; which in some ways left me more baffled then when I first looked up to see her handing me my springrolls.
Eventually we found Antonia's pancakes and made our way to bed. One of our best nights yet, too bad it was our last...
Well not exactly our last... Sydney, prepare yourself.
The next morning I work up at 7am to go to the gym which I found was closed upon arrival (just my luck) and then caught a flight to Chiang Mai that afternoon. Whenever I tell other backpackers I flew a look of surprise instantly strikes their face. "But the bus/train is so cheap?!". Yes, but so was my flight. $65 round trip is worth every penning when you're trying to avoid another 15hour bus journey. "Oh yes, I would like some peanuts, thank you."
So here I am on my 6th day in Chiang Mai with a bunch of blisters and brusies. Thai boxing is kickin' my ass! It's a lot of fun though, and that's why I came to Chiang Mai, so the aches and pains are welcomed. After 2 1/2 months of almost never working out, I can hardly stand myself. My body has been crying out in frustration begging me to return to my daily 5 mile runs. Unfortunately it's not so easy in the motorcycle ridden streets of Saigon, the damp back allies of China, or the impoverished villages of Cambodia. So now that I'm in Thailand, I'm taking complete advantage of all the physical activities the country has to offer. Muay Thai (thai boxing), climbing, rafting, trekking, kayaking, yoga, snorkling, scuba diving, you name it, I'll be doing it.
So, for starters I chose Muay Thai. I've been training at a gym called Lanna Muay Thai located on the outskirts of th city. The training is intense and so are the atheletes. They train from 6:30-9:30am and then from 4-7pm everyday except Sunday when they hike. The first day we ran 10km (a little over 6 miles) in the morning and then trianed on the bags and with trainers for the rest of the morning and afternoon practice. The next morning we ran "the mountain". 7km straight up. It was the longest and hardest uphill run I've ever done. That night I got really sick - chills, sweats, stomach cramps, nausea - i'm not sure if I caught something of if my body shut down, either way I've decided I'll only do one practice a day until I'm a bit more fit. Sad, but true, I'm outta shape, but I plan on changing that quickly.
Yesterday Julia and Rich (a guy we originally met in China. He's alone now because his travel partner got Dengue Fever!) arrived in Chiang Mai and this morning I switched to their hotel (the pool was the selling point). Currently, the plan is to do Muay Thai, some climbing, a bit of yoga, and take a cooking class by the time I fly back to Bangkok on the 23rd. And then?...
ChaOs(...)! Just wait and see...
December 11, 2005
The Worst Night Yet (Day 74)
Tonight was the worst night of my trip so far. The absolute lowest low, and to be honest I really can't explain why.
Antonia arrived in Bangkok around 8:30pm and the three of us quickly got dressed and set out for a night on the town. Both Julia and Antonia had mentioned an interest in going to the red light district, also known as Pat Pong. This is where things started down hill. I don't like red light districts. I don't like strip clubs, I don't like porn; not even to laugh at. So, my hope was that we would simply walk around for a bit and then head out for a real night on the town.
Pat Pong is lined with clubs and prostitutes. As you walk, touts step off the curb and present you with laminated cards listing the different "acts" as well as drinks available in their club. The street is a parade of western men, with a sprinkling of curious western women, all being lured into clubs with drink bargains and "opportunities".
After about 30 minutes, Antonia and Julia decided they wanted to stop for a drink. Luckily the club they chose was a "normal" club in the sense that it wasn't a sex club, but it might as well have been given the number of working girls, pretty boys and western men sipping colorful cocktails and Chang beer while eyeing each other under the cover of a throbbing techno beat. I was not enthusiastic to hangout, to say the least. In fact I'd been pretty close to silent from the moment we'd gotten in the cab*.
Sitting outside the club, the girls began people watching and seemed to find it amusing, yet I found it disgusting and difficult to bear. Anyone who knows me knows I don't like these environments, and being forced to observe them in action is not my ideal Saturday night. Thai prostitutes waiting for western men with haughty smirks to pick them up. I find it all quite depressing.
I'm not sure what exactly led to the breakdown, but it happened nevertheless.
After sitting there for about 15 minutes I arrived at a moment where I found myself with tears streaming down my face. Whether it was a result of the disgust and sadness I was feeling or simply because my hopes of having a great night out had been shattered, I'll probably never know. Tears don't always need clear logical reasons to flow.
So, now I sit here writing in the dimly lit hallway of our guesthouse with a spliting headache, puffy eyes and the heavy hearted feeling that things will never change.
Welcome to Bangkok.
*honestly people, do you really expect me, Jasmine Summerset, to pretend to be happy in a situation like this? If my moodiness has any value, it is in this sort of situation. And don't try to tell me I need to be pleasant, because in this situation, that's bull.
Antonia arrived in Bangkok around 8:30pm and the three of us quickly got dressed and set out for a night on the town. Both Julia and Antonia had mentioned an interest in going to the red light district, also known as Pat Pong. This is where things started down hill. I don't like red light districts. I don't like strip clubs, I don't like porn; not even to laugh at. So, my hope was that we would simply walk around for a bit and then head out for a real night on the town.
Pat Pong is lined with clubs and prostitutes. As you walk, touts step off the curb and present you with laminated cards listing the different "acts" as well as drinks available in their club. The street is a parade of western men, with a sprinkling of curious western women, all being lured into clubs with drink bargains and "opportunities".
After about 30 minutes, Antonia and Julia decided they wanted to stop for a drink. Luckily the club they chose was a "normal" club in the sense that it wasn't a sex club, but it might as well have been given the number of working girls, pretty boys and western men sipping colorful cocktails and Chang beer while eyeing each other under the cover of a throbbing techno beat. I was not enthusiastic to hangout, to say the least. In fact I'd been pretty close to silent from the moment we'd gotten in the cab*.
Sitting outside the club, the girls began people watching and seemed to find it amusing, yet I found it disgusting and difficult to bear. Anyone who knows me knows I don't like these environments, and being forced to observe them in action is not my ideal Saturday night. Thai prostitutes waiting for western men with haughty smirks to pick them up. I find it all quite depressing.
I'm not sure what exactly led to the breakdown, but it happened nevertheless.
After sitting there for about 15 minutes I arrived at a moment where I found myself with tears streaming down my face. Whether it was a result of the disgust and sadness I was feeling or simply because my hopes of having a great night out had been shattered, I'll probably never know. Tears don't always need clear logical reasons to flow.
So, now I sit here writing in the dimly lit hallway of our guesthouse with a spliting headache, puffy eyes and the heavy hearted feeling that things will never change.
Welcome to Bangkok.
*honestly people, do you really expect me, Jasmine Summerset, to pretend to be happy in a situation like this? If my moodiness has any value, it is in this sort of situation. And don't try to tell me I need to be pleasant, because in this situation, that's bull.
December 08, 2005
Cambodia: War and Baguettes Continue (Day 71)
(I'd love to hear your thoughts on what I've written because there are some serious issues presented in this blog. Please email me if you've got a lot to say. Discussions are what change the world, not silent acceptance.)
Today is my 3rd day in Siem Reap, my 8th day in Cambodia and the 71st day of my travels. Can I say "time flies!"??!
So far I have thoroughly enjoyed Cambodia. I do miss Vietnam a bit, the place was fantastic. My last two days were spent in Saigon, which surprisingly, I noticed had changed. The area I spent the most time during my first visit was completely different. It had literally been "cleaned up". There were no more street kids, no more vendors, only expensive hotels, and the market where I'd haggled for dvds for hours now looks like a mall back home. I guess in some ways it's good because it shows the economy is booming, but at the same time you can't help but think it's lost a bit of it's character.
Jantonia (Antonia, but we call her "Jantonia" now because Julia and I have "j" names and we felt it would be better if she fit in) and I arrived in Cambodia on the 1st of the month after a 15 hour commute from Saigon. At one point we were on a boat on the Mekong river and it started to pour. It seems waterproofing was not a concern during the boats construction, so I spent the following hour being dripped on, or maybe I should call it leaked on. It was, to say the least, the most frustrating journey yet.
When we arrived in Phnom Phen, we found a cute guesthouse in the backpacker potsmoking district. It was almost too chill, but it had the most amazing coconut shakes and it was a good place to relax after the hussle and bussle of Vietnam.
At the "Killing Fields" there is a tower of skulls (almost 9000) as part of a huge monument. There are hundreds of mass graves, including 43 that have yet to be uncovered. While walking through the fields our guide pointed out a jaw bone protruding from the dirt.
I have found that I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with the kids around the temples. They're so cute and friendly, yet they can turn on you so quickly. The bottom line is always the almighty dollar. I've noticed that some of them take a great interest in my skin color. They put their arms next to mine and say: "look, same same". I can't help but smile because I realize that in some ways I might be a bit of hope. They see westerners as the rich successful people of the world, even though most of us have done nothing but been born on the other side of an invisible line. So, even though I don't want them to see me as different, the fact that they look at me, see a "rich" westerner and realize that I look like them, may make them feel a little bit better about themselves in a world that says lighter is better.
Today is my 3rd day in Siem Reap, my 8th day in Cambodia and the 71st day of my travels. Can I say "time flies!"??!
So far I have thoroughly enjoyed Cambodia. I do miss Vietnam a bit, the place was fantastic. My last two days were spent in Saigon, which surprisingly, I noticed had changed. The area I spent the most time during my first visit was completely different. It had literally been "cleaned up". There were no more street kids, no more vendors, only expensive hotels, and the market where I'd haggled for dvds for hours now looks like a mall back home. I guess in some ways it's good because it shows the economy is booming, but at the same time you can't help but think it's lost a bit of it's character.
Jantonia (Antonia, but we call her "Jantonia" now because Julia and I have "j" names and we felt it would be better if she fit in) and I arrived in Cambodia on the 1st of the month after a 15 hour commute from Saigon. At one point we were on a boat on the Mekong river and it started to pour. It seems waterproofing was not a concern during the boats construction, so I spent the following hour being dripped on, or maybe I should call it leaked on. It was, to say the least, the most frustrating journey yet.
When we arrived in Phnom Phen, we found a cute guesthouse in the backpacker potsmoking district. It was almost too chill, but it had the most amazing coconut shakes and it was a good place to relax after the hussle and bussle of Vietnam.
On our 3rd day (we were really productive the first two days) we went to the most famous of the "Killing Fields" located about 15km outside of the city, and then to the Tuol
Sleng Genocide Museum (S21) which was originally a high school but then during Pol Pots regime became a prison. By the end of the day Jantonia was mentally drained and visibly upset at times, yet I was fine. We have basically been dealing with issues of war for the past month and a half, starting in Vietnam with the Vietnam War (aka: The American War) and now continuing into Cambodia with Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge. How is it possible that I have heard and seen evidence of so many horrific events, yet haven't shed a tear? I know it's not because I'm insensitive. I have had many "awakenings" in my life which have left me practically in mourning for those involved. Yet in Vietnam and Cambodia, nothing.
Looking back, I realized that while in Vietnam, inspite of (or dispite, not sure which just yet) the anti-American sentiment present during most discussions of the war, I continued to feel for the American soldiers forced to fight. I may just have been being defensive because everyone I spoke to blamed the Americans, but I don't believe that is the majority of my reasoning. Our soldiers committed some absolutely atroshish acts, but in some instances I cannot entirely blame them. War does things to a man that I cannot, and hopefully, will not ever understand. And, not only was the Vietnam/American war a war, but it was an extremely brutal disorienting war. Our soldiers were fighting in conditions they were not trained to handle, and fighting an enemy who was basically invisible. It was unconventional in every sense of the word. The Vietcong hid among the people, and to me that was a blatant disregard for the well being of their civilian population. In some ways I believe this had some affect on the crazed mentality, shared by many U.S. soldiers, that entire villages and their inhabitants must be eliminated. Please, do not misunderstand me. I do not in any way intend to say that I think the war crimes we commited were justified. The use of agent orange, the rapes and massacres were disgusting and our acknowledgment of them is vital in our efforts to avoid a reoccurance. But, I can't help but think that in a war where you don't know who your enemy is, how do you know who to fight?
There was a quote at the War Remenants Museum (previously the Anti-American War Museum) and it was the only thing that truely left an impact on me:
The US expeditionary forces have gone as far as two consider the Vietnamese people as a low-class creature and that the fact of killing them didn't constitute a crime - just like the spraying of DDT poisonous substance to destroy the insects. They can't enjoy any right whatsoever, even the right of the ownership and right to live. All they can have: their body and life also belong to the ownership of the Americans, who can do all they wanted... The Americans didn't think that their counter-parts were persons who can think and enjoy any rights as other people did have.
Sleng Genocide Museum (S21) which was originally a high school but then during Pol Pots regime became a prison. By the end of the day Jantonia was mentally drained and visibly upset at times, yet I was fine. We have basically been dealing with issues of war for the past month and a half, starting in Vietnam with the Vietnam War (aka: The American War) and now continuing into Cambodia with Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge. How is it possible that I have heard and seen evidence of so many horrific events, yet haven't shed a tear? I know it's not because I'm insensitive. I have had many "awakenings" in my life which have left me practically in mourning for those involved. Yet in Vietnam and Cambodia, nothing.Looking back, I realized that while in Vietnam, inspite of (or dispite, not sure which just yet) the anti-American sentiment present during most discussions of the war, I continued to feel for the American soldiers forced to fight. I may just have been being defensive because everyone I spoke to blamed the Americans, but I don't believe that is the majority of my reasoning. Our soldiers committed some absolutely atroshish acts, but in some instances I cannot entirely blame them. War does things to a man that I cannot, and hopefully, will not ever understand. And, not only was the Vietnam/American war a war, but it was an extremely brutal disorienting war. Our soldiers were fighting in conditions they were not trained to handle, and fighting an enemy who was basically invisible. It was unconventional in every sense of the word. The Vietcong hid among the people, and to me that was a blatant disregard for the well being of their civilian population. In some ways I believe this had some affect on the crazed mentality, shared by many U.S. soldiers, that entire villages and their inhabitants must be eliminated. Please, do not misunderstand me. I do not in any way intend to say that I think the war crimes we commited were justified. The use of agent orange, the rapes and massacres were disgusting and our acknowledgment of them is vital in our efforts to avoid a reoccurance. But, I can't help but think that in a war where you don't know who your enemy is, how do you know who to fight?
There was a quote at the War Remenants Museum (previously the Anti-American War Museum) and it was the only thing that truely left an impact on me:
The US expeditionary forces have gone as far as two consider the Vietnamese people as a low-class creature and that the fact of killing them didn't constitute a crime - just like the spraying of DDT poisonous substance to destroy the insects. They can't enjoy any right whatsoever, even the right of the ownership and right to live. All they can have: their body and life also belong to the ownership of the Americans, who can do all they wanted... The Americans didn't think that their counter-parts were persons who can think and enjoy any rights as other people did have.
Richard Hammer (1970)
If these rights were allowed, would that be war?
At the "Killing Fields" there is a tower of skulls (almost 9000) as part of a huge monument. There are hundreds of mass graves, including 43 that have yet to be uncovered. While walking through the fields our guide pointed out a jaw bone protruding from the dirt.How do you register moments like this?
Some of us shed tears I guess, but I don't think I'm capable of responding emotionally because I'm too busy thinking about all the issues places like the "Killing Fields", the War Remenants Museum, and S21 raise.
While walking around the "Killing Fields" I couldn't help but think it was a somewhat disrespectful way to raise the world's awareness. Why the hell is that jaw bone still there?!! Out of respect for the person it once belonged to, dig it up out of the pathway that hundreds of tourists tred upon each day!! After such horrific deaths, these people deserve a peaceful resting place. Their skulls should not be on display, their bones should not be left for me to step on, and none of them should continue to lay in a mass grave. I understand that maybe the Cambodian government has chosen to raise awareness through shock, that they may not have the money to exhume the rest of the victims, and that I might have a different perspective when it comes to death. But, I just find it all a bit too voyaristic.
* * *
How do you continue a blog after a discussion like that? Astrics are gonna have to do the trick.
Well, inspite of (this time I'm sure it's inspite) all the heartache and war this country has seen, the people of Cambodia continue to smile. The country is making an effort to change it's image. When I arrived, I was amazed at how modern Phnom Phen was. I really didn't know what to expect before coming here. I thought there would be nothing but tin shacks and motorbikes. I mean the country doesn't have 1 ATM! But when I arrived, I was astonished. They have gas stations with mini marts! I haven't seen one of those since home!
Anyways, we left Phen on the 5th and arrived in Siem Reap 8 hours later to be greeted by a bazillion tuk tuk drivers. It was the most taxing experience I've had yet. They completely surround you and are literally yelling in your ear, pushing and pulling you. They're so close you can smell their breath. It's worse than anywhere I've been before, even India.
So, for the past two days we've been touring around Angkor Wat and it's simply amazing. The carvings and the size of the ruins are incredible.
I will give one bit of advice to future visitors:
Don't get caught in the dark of Angkor Wat with a bike with no light and a chain that keeps falling off. If you do, make sure to be lucky enough to have the captain of the Siem Reap police department stop, put your bike in his car, and give you a ride to a tuk tuk while lighting the rocky ass dirt road for your other 2 lightless friends.
Things always work out for the best...
I have found that I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with the kids around the temples. They're so cute and friendly, yet they can turn on you so quickly. The bottom line is always the almighty dollar. I've noticed that some of them take a great interest in my skin color. They put their arms next to mine and say: "look, same same". I can't help but smile because I realize that in some ways I might be a bit of hope. They see westerners as the rich successful people of the world, even though most of us have done nothing but been born on the other side of an invisible line. So, even though I don't want them to see me as different, the fact that they look at me, see a "rich" westerner and realize that I look like them, may make them feel a little bit better about themselves in a world that says lighter is better.Whew! God so many things to say :P
Yeah, so things have been going well. We've been biking along the breezy Cambodian countryside seeing temples and hanging out with all the crazy westerners at night. We even had a picnic of fruit, bread and CHEESE at one of the temples yesterday. Things could not be better.
Here's a quick Jasmine point:
The other night there were these 2 Canadians I found extremely annoying and loud, and I could hardly tell they weren't American myself. It got me thinking that maybe, just maybe, every once in a while, we United Statesians (I prefer this over "American", and I can explain why more indepth at some point) may be getting a bad rap as a result of Canadians.
End point.
I did meet a cool Canadian that said something I appreciated after 2 1/2 months of traveling with Brits. A couple of days before Jantonia had described me as "abrupt", in terms of my manners, and I think everyone would agree that I am polite damnit! Anyways, I was a bit sore about it. But Eric (the cool Canadian) said that he thinks that even though we often get a bad rap, Americans are actually really polite. I would definitely agree. We just have a tendency to be loud... or should I call it "abrupt"?
Enough with the rants. Jantonia left today with a the cool Canadian and an Auzzie to head to Thailand. Julia and I are leaving tomorrow. We were going to fly from Phen, but it's a bit too expensive and they want proof of a flight out of Thailand, which I don't have. So we decided to hire a taxi that would take us to the border and catch a bus to Bangkok. And to make a good day even better, we just found 2 random guys to share the taxi with us, so now it's even cheaper.
And now it gets a bit sad. We're planning to meet up with Jantonia in Bangkok, but then our little trio will end. Jantonia's going to Australia, while Julia and I stay in Thailand but go our separate ways. Plus we're leaving this beautiful country so soon. 10 days is not enough. I will definitely have to come back. So sad, but I guess it's a new chapter in the book. The book I'm sure will never have a title because my life just cannot be labeled :P
Until Thailand... Orkun (Khmer for thanks) for reading.
