We are tired.  We have been traveling for almost six months,  over five months in SE Asia.  We are ready for a new adventure.  Or at least I am.  To be honest we are feeling a bit road weary, a slight fatigue.  In Cambodia it seems that we waffle between two extremes.  On the one hand experiencing the dusty developing world in full gear.  Then we enter the protected enclaves founded by expats that serve up swimming pools, billiards and hamburgers.  These two worlds remain segregated, apart.  We hop, leapfrogging from one of these lily pads of familiar comforts to another after long hot bus rides.  In a sense creating an escape from traveling.  Cambodia is the first SE Asian country where Westerners can own 100% of a business and there are restaurants and hotels that cater exclusively to travelers.  They are still budget conscious and we are not staying in glamour and glitz.  The owner of our hotel in Kamphot was Alaskan, our Texas barbecue place hosted by a Kansan and the Thai restaurant owned by guy from Alabama.  The staff is often Dutch or French, and the kitchen and cleaning staff is often Khmer, although not always.  Kep Coffee was owned by a guy from Seattle and his family.  I had a BLT there that would rival any sandwich in Portland.  It is an odd scene.

After Battambang, we explored the coast of Cambodia, Kamphot, Kep and then Rabbit Island.  These towns have wide empty roads and French colonial decay.  Kamphot province is large and 80% of Khmer live in rural areas, so the towns feel kind of empty.

In Kep, once an escape for Phnom Pen’s elite in the 1960s, the large villas stand burned and destroyed by the Khmer Rouge, the violent legacy remaining visible and unchanged over the last four decades.  Taken back by the jungle, these once grand estates are now empty and home to cows grazing.  There is no effort to rebuild, people lack the resources and maybe communal vision of moving forward.  Kep’s hollowed out villas are largely symbolic for me of where Cambodia is emotionally.  It appears that Cambodia cannot move forward simply because it does not have the tools or vocabulary to heal and rebuild either emotionally or physically.

We took the boat over to Rabbit Island.  An underated small island that is not developed and offers simple accommodation and food.  It only has electricity a few hours at night.  We enjoyed the hours reading and swimming.  Knowing that it was only for a couple of days we let ourselves turn to jello.  It was the perfect salve.

We are ending our travels in Cambodia with a quick two days in Phnom Pen before flying to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.  Our long bus ride from Kep yesterday provided plenty of sights out our window.  We watched caravans of large open flatbed work trucks transporting women home from working at the garment factories.  The brain struggles with these odd images of human cargo, trucks full of women, dressed in bright colors, wearing hats and scarves, standing close together, an estimated fifty to a truck.

After some research, I found that these trucks carry about 100 women and are perilous, often overturning.  Over 8,000 garment workers were injured last year in traffic accidents, over 100 killed.

(There are some horrible photos of accidents on the internet and it is only too easy to imagine it)

I learned of these socioeconomic disparities regarding international manufacturing when I was in college.  Jack and Addie are able to see in real-time how others work and live and what role the Western consumer plays.  It is not an abstract lesson.  People ask us about school and how we teach our children while traveling and I reflect on these lessons that we experience and the discussions it leads to.  Now when we see a label on our T-shirt that says “Made in Cambodia” we will have the visceral memory of watching the many women return from their shifts at the factories.  The more we travel, the smaller the world becomes.

Below, photos of street art from Phnom Pen.

This is Mr.Battambang, where this city derives its name. The statue of Ta Dumbong looms tall in a roundabout and comes with an odd legend. According to the story he was a cowherder who found a magic stick and decided to overthrow the king with it so he could be ruler. The king’s son ran into the forest to become a monk. Ta Dambong had a dream that a holy man on a white horse would vanquish him so he had all the holy men put to death. The prince, who was a practicing monk, found a white horse who could fly and flew into town. Ta Dumbong attempted to kill the monk on the white horse, threw his stick, missed him and ran away in failure.

I am not sure what the message is in that story. Now locals place offerings at the base of the statue, fruit, a pig’s head and there are small birds one can purchase and release while sending off a prayer.

Battambang is a cool city. A mix of dilapidated French colonial buildings and edgy Cafes. Less of a tourist destination than Siem Reap, it remains its own city. Over the centuries Battambang switched hands between Thailand and Cambodia, and was under Thai control as late as the 1940s. Like the rest of Cambodia, the city was emptied by the Khmer Rouge in 1975, forcing all the occupants to the countryside. Even though the Vietnamese liberated this city in 1979, fierce fighting continued until 1996. The city was off-limits to visitors during this time. Only recently have tourists began to visit and Battambang is experiencing growth. However, this area is considered the “rice bowl” of Cambodia and is home to farmers and traders.

Our favorite sandwich sub shop run by a Dutchman, living going on 18 years in Battambang.  His wife runs the kitchen.  They were lovely and full of stories.  And the best spicy tuna I have ever had!

We visited many temples in the area. These temples were so peaceful, really creating a magical park like space that felt very spiritual. Not a tourist in sight. These places of worship are used daily by locals and kept neat by the monks. They are the most beautiful I have seen so far in our travels.

We do not seek it out, but the legacy of the Khmer Rouge is everywhere here. One temple we went to was turned into a prison and torture center. There was a “killing field” behind the temple that is now a pond. All the bones of the victims were gathered and placed in a commemorative stupa.

We attended the Phare Circus, a performance put on by the school for performing arts in Battambang.  It is a school that was founded in the 1990s in a refugee camp to serve as an emotional outlet for the displaced children and those that suffered the trauma of war.  It thrives today, serving over 1300 students free of charge, training them in the arts.

We went to the fish market, or where the fish market begins.  It was a covered space filled with women and men hacking away at fish and separating it into usable parts.  There were heaps of entrails and fish guts everywhere.  The floor ran red with blood.  The smell was so intense that Cork and the kids would not even exit the TukTuk.  I found it so interesting.  Everyone had their job and the work was all done on the concrete floor.  The small girl in the photo had to be about three years old, and she was scrubbing tools as her mother worked nearby.

We visited Phnom Sampeu, a hill with the Killing Caves of the Khmer Rouge (which we did not visit), a few others caves adorned with Buddhist statues, and a monastery with two Buddhist Stupas on the hilltop.  The main event at sunset is the exodus of the nocturnal bats from their cave. We watched as over 1 million bats made thier evening departure from the cave.  It was hard to capture such an enormous event on film, but it was pretty cool.

This women made loud sounds as she scraped the concrete in order to encourage the bats to fly higher and avoid her coconut trees.

Angkor Wat is the reason that most people visit Cambodia. They come to walk around the largest religious temple built in the world. It covers 400 acres. Built at the behest of a succession of kings as a palace and place of worship during the 12th century, it is really a feat of architectural genius. At a hefty $37 entry fee per person for one day, this tourist attraction is a huge revenue source for the government. At 0830 in the morning, the large temple Bayon, the temple famous for its 215 towering Buddha faces was so packed with tourists taking selfies, that I felt claustrophobic. Considering what a huge money-making attraction Angkor Wat is, there is a slim chance that the Cambodian government will limit visitors. As a result, the experience loses a bit of its magic due to the sheer number of chatty, flower hat donning, mainly Chinese who arrive in large tour groups in a steady stream of buses.

The enormity of this temple complex is symbolic of the level of world leadership that Cambodia held at one point in history. The Angkor Kings were considered Gods, the king of kings, thought to be capable of anything.  The massive structures of Angkor Wat, sophisticated irrigation canals and advanced trade relationships are hallmarks of this great empire. The Khmer Empire, a Hindu-Buddhist power, dominated over most of Southeast Asia from 802 until 1431. Angkor, during its peak in the 11th to 13th centuries, was the largest pre-industrial urban center in the world.  The Khmer empire fell in the 15th century to the Ayutthaya (Thai) armies.  It is thought that climate change, long drought and plague weakened the empire before it was conquered. However, it is still a mystery exactly how this great society fell.

After 1500, Cambodia entered a dark age.  Increasingly controlled by Thailand, and then dominated by Vietnam in the 17th century, Cambodia accepted French Protectorate status in 1863 as to not be absorbed by Vietnam or Thailand.  Controlled and colonized by the French, Cambodia languished.  It was bombed extensively during the Vietnam war, and then overtaken by the Khmer Rouge that promised an egalitarian agrarian society but delivered a sadistic genocide.  Subsequent years of fighting, violence and starvation followed into the early 1990s.  After the UN experiment failed to bring about real democracy, Hun Sen remains the prime minister.  He fought for the Khmer Rouge for seven years, only switching to the Vietnamese side when it was clear the Khmer Rouge was losing.  Through corruption, intimidation and violence he has maintained power for thirty years.  His family is estimated to be worth 500 billion dollars.  The average  annual household income is $1,093. 

The people of this country have been to hell and back.  The reason that I discuss the history of this region is that you can see how these missteps and decisions affect Cambodia today. Before traveling here my knowledge of these historical events was rather superficial.  I am learning in real time what these events mean today.  Shelled and burned out French homes in Battanbang and Kamphot remain standing and empty.  Our TukTuk driver grew up in a refugee camp in Thailand when his family fled Cambodia.  The woman who makes our lunch buried her mother and sister when she was nine years old and lived in the jungle for three years hiding from the Khmer Rouge.  It is real and unescapable.

We have become good friends with a family from Brighton, England.  We first met them in Chiang Mai and planned to meet again in Siem Reap, Cambodia.  Vicki and Mike, a fellow nurse and teacher, along with their smart and enthusiastic daughters Amy (12) and Izzy (7).  It eases the overwhelming prospect of exploring a new city if you have a friends along for the ride.  It is especially great for the kids as they get to play Legos, watch movies and splash in the pool together while their parents relax and contemplate the next move.  Our families are talking about overlapping houseswapping in the future so that we can stay in touch and continue traveling!

I will be so curious for our children to meet in ten years, as young adults, and see how they remember this time.  It is such a unique experience to travel the world at such a young age and I know that it will forever shape their life’s direction.  It is my hope that they leap forward into life, leaving fear behind and embrace the adventure.  Life is too short.

Kampuchea, officially known in English as the “Kingdom of Cambodia”,  is the country that we are travelling through now.  The more I read and learn about this country, the more confused and conflicted I feel.  In preparation for visiting this country, we learned about the Vietnam war and the Khmer Rouge genocide.  I read political and historical accounts that gave me a general idea of the challenges this country faces.  On paper this country is mired in problems and, from afar,  it appears broken and irreparable.  Political corruption is endemic, child exploitation and poverty pervasive, vast environmental degradation and a failing education system are among the largest hurdles to development.

A generation of educated Cambodians were murdered or fled in fear during the Khmer Rouge takeover in 1975. Two million murdered, another million died from disease and starvation after the conflict.  The survivors and perpetrators go about their daily lives in the present, all suffering amazing loss, largely unspoken.  When I look into the faces of those that are older than 42, I know they experienced the unthinkable.  Imagine a whole country carrying that type of trauma and grief in their souls.  Although, the Khmer Rouge reigned from 1975-1979, the fighting and violence continued until the early 1990s.

We experience the educational deficits as our TukTuk drivers struggle with maps and illiteracy is rampant, as school is costly (bribes needed to help pay the teachers) and not mandatory.  It is a miracle that anything works here.  Described by Human Rights Watch, Cambodia is a “vaguely communist free-market state with a relatively authoritarian coalition ruling over a superficial democracy.”  Currently, Hun Sen has been in power for 30 years and recently the opposition party has been ruled illegal.  However, despite these plaguing problems, the Khmer greet us with the largest, easiest smiles, real “light up the room” grins.

Kampuchea, as the Khmers refer to their country, is a largely flat country smaller than Oregon with three times the population. The city of Siem Reap is a two-story town with only a few taller buildings.  Most of the roads are dirt and the red clay dust coats everything.  Although the dust and dirt makes for a gritty experience, it lends the evenings an eery magical glow that is unique to this land.

For our first three days in Siem Reap we stayed in the country side, sleeping at a homestay.  We had rooms in the main house, all hard wood, and shared meals in the family kitchen. It is simple, inexpensive and a good way to experience Khmer life away from the tour groups. The family is very welcoming, the food fresh and although far from town, the grounds are beautiful.

The common mode of transport for us is a TukTuk.  The Khmer style are carts with seats behind a motorbike.  Originally these were Cyclos, the same style, although more basic behind a bicycle.  The locals get around on motorbikes and bicycles.  Traffic here is crazier than Laos, tamer than Vietnam.  Apparently the Khmers believe that what they do not see, is not there.  Instead of a blind spot, an invisible spot.  Also, as with all of Asia, the biggest car wins,  so we are often side lined by the honks of large trucks that roar past.  The TukTuk trips are bumpy, loud and often harrowing rides, although since we survived, exhilarating.  The open aired transport also facilitates smiles and waves as car glass does not keep us hidden.  Unlike other countries, most Khmers do wear helmets, or “hats” as there is a hefty $6 fine.

Arriving from Laos, where we had such a cozy experience, Cambodia shoved us out of our idyllic dream into the dusty reality of the developing world.  At first, to be honest, I did not like it.  Overwhelmed by the story of trauma that this whole country experienced, I wanted to turn away, walk away.  In fact, in this emotional place we made the decision to go to Nepal next, move on from SE Asia.  However, in the ensuing days, Cambodia is unfolding and expanding.  Its complex history and recent atrocities are a true testament to the resilience of humans to move on, do more than survive, live on and continue to smile at strangers.

After repeatedly offering our help to Khaek, she relented and we arrived for our shift at the restaurant wearing our Lao skirts and ready to work. Addie and I spent the next four hours taking meal orders, clearing tables, cleaning, running food and interacting with tourists. Khaek normaly works alone and rarely has a day off. It seemed like a win-win-win, which are the best scenerios!

We had a great time and it was nice to be useful. Only in Asia will Addie have the chance to wait tables and serve alcohol at the tender age of 10. Now she thinks she wants to be a waitress. Since it is only Khaek who runs the front of the house, we were able to be really helpful during the busy hours. My waitressing and nursing experience always help in these customer service situations. Addie was able to eat fried rice during her break, on the house, which was a huge perk.

Khaek’s family kept looking at us and smiling, clearly bemused. Khaek said we were the first travelers to ever work for her. I do believe that if we stayed in Laos, these opportunities would present themselves, and as long as we are willing and able to walk through these doors, along these paths, we will be granted insight into culture beyond the tourist view point.

We enjoyed our shift so much that we worked an additional evening at the restaurant. I was able to meet Khaek’s friends, talk to other travelers and just be apart of things, which I miss when traveling.

We talk about wanting to participate in volunteer opportunities, but we are finding that if you find a place, or people or organization that inspires you and you offer your help and services, it is possible to create one’s own volunteer experience. We will continue to find these places and dive in.

Sometimes when we are eating or walking around Luang Prabang there is the loud noise of a plane flying low and we imagine what it must have been like for the people of this country during the US bombing of Laos during the Vietnam War. How terrifying it must have been. The deafening sound and death literally raining from the sky. Suddenly everything you know and love, blown up. Gone. Unimaginable, and yet the horror of these bombs linger as unexploded ordinances litter the country and kill and maim daily. Mostly poor families who gather scrap metal and kids attracted to shiny balls are the victims. I am not surprised by the powerful’s propensity towards blind cruelty, just dumbfounded. History just keeps repeating. As we travel and learn more, there are no good sides in war. Just uneven sides.

Large missile filled with Bombies, small balls of explosives–designed to send shrapnel over a large area. Otherwise known as cluster bombs.

Looking at a map of Laos that is labeled with pins indicating unexploded ordinance projects

From 1964 to 1973, as part of the Secret War operation conducted during the Vietnam War, the US military dropped 260 million cluster bombs – about 2.5 million tons of munitions – on Laos over the course of 580,000 bombing missions. This is equivalent to a plane load of bombs being unloaded every eight minutes. Laos was not even in the war!

In 2016 under Barak Obama (oh do I miss him), we increased our aid to Laos to 30 million to clear unexploded ordinances. Previously we were giving 5 million dollars a year in aid from 1993 to 2016.  I am sure the current administration will reduce the aid again. We are learning in real time and real life the effects of our country’s actions. Our knowledge regarding this part of the world will be a part of us forever, not just a lesson from a history book.

We have found that reading personal memoirs written from a child’s perspective is a great way of learning about a country. As a family we are almost done with “First the Killed My Father” a story narrated by Loung Ung who was five years old when the Khmer Rouge changed her life forever. We go to Cambodia this week, so knowing the history (which is hugely) complicated is helpful. We have also made maps of the country we are going to visit and the kids research about language, religion, currency…the categories are up to them. After a year we will have this world schooling down!

The worst bike ride ever? Well not really. We rented bicycles, which turned out to be great fun in the city, amongst the cars and motorbikes. It is amazing how my safety parameters have changed. I no longer feel that helmets and seatbelts are a necessity for ground travel. No life jackets on the boat, kayak, ferry…no problem! I have not seen a car seat in five months. Booster seats, funny. Kids are on laps, on motorbikes… I am more than happy when we are in a car and are surrounded by steel, protecting us from other cars. Now we ride bicycles in busy traffic, weave into traffic, ease into roundabouts and work on our confidence. Because deliberatness, confidence and awareness will keep you safe here, not helmets (which there are none). Our confidence with bikes is leading us towards renting scooters…maybe an island in Cambodia?

We took our bikes over the Mekong on a ferry that serves the locals and biked along dusty gravel roads, through villages and herds of water buffalo. It was hot, uphill and according to Addie, “the worst bike ride ever.” The scenery was spectacular and I kept laughing at our adventure folly as I watched Addie ride her bike through a herd of large water buffalo or Jack echo the “bleeps” back and forth in a conversation with a goat on the side of the road.

Trudging up a sand bank with our bikes going back, this is the conversation I overheard.

Addie asks “Dad, what does D I C K spell?”

Cork answers “It spells dick.”

Addie asks “What does that mean?”

Cork answers “Its a word for penis.”

Addie states “Well thats what Mom called you back there when you rode ahead and would not wait for us.”

There are tough moments for all of us. I laughed out loud when I overheard this exchange. We all did. We are learning a lot over this year!