War Museum | Lows, heights and mosquito bites!

Hey Amigos!

The following days we spent in Siem Reap variously exploring the town, supping Baroso Whiskey, and indulging in the restaurants.

Crazy traffic in Siem Reap

Emma was keen to engage in some voluntary work, so made contact with a Monk named Mr Ran, whose contact details we had been given by Maya and Svea, the Australians who we had met in Kuching, several months earlier.

We took a Tuk Tuk to meet Mr Ran at his Monastery. I warmed to him straight away. He was in no way judgemental of our appearance, and unlike many Monks, was happy to communicate with us, irrespective of Emma’s gender (some Monks actively avoid contact with women).

The lovely Mr Ran

Indeed, I was quick to enquire of Mr Ran what was the current position with politics in Cambodia? He simply shrugged off the question by stating “Politicians are all corrupt”. I don’t really think you can argue with that statement, when discussing politics, in more or less every country these days. A sad sign of the times…

In any event, Mr Ran explained that the three of us would have to take a Tuk Tuk out of town, to reach his school. It was approximately a forty minute journey each way. Upon arriving at the school, Mr Ran showed us around the grounds, and then we were taken into a classroom.

The school temple grounds

Emma was pretty much thrown in at the deep end. The pupils were all keen to learn to speak English fluently, and most had a reasonable command of the English language already. Emma introduced ourselves and conducted an icebreaking exercise, much to the delight of the class.

Mr Ran then produced some photocopied worksheets, which contained a written script in English of a potential resident telephoning a hotel, speaking to the Reception, and booking a room. Emma and I were asked to read the script aloud several times, in order that the pupils could listen to us speaking English.

If you would like to volunteer to teach these guys, search for ‘Native Cambodia’ on facebook and send Mr Ran a message

Thereafter Emma was on her feet, walking around the classroom and providing clarification of the meaning of words to the pupils, in addition to assisting them with pronounciation. I was a little more reserved, and remained seated, but I entered into dialogue with the pupils who sat behind me.

We stayed at the school for two classes, the second occurring after a brief break between lessons, at which different pupils arrived. One young man told me he cycled ten miles from his village to attend the second class, and would stay the night at a friends, when the lesson was over, as it was too dark to cycle home safely.

What great pupils!

Said pupil also explained that his father had been a farmer, but had passed away, and that he hoped he might be the first person to teach English in his own village one day. His dedication to his educational attainment was awe inspiring, and all the pupils we spoke to were friendly, and anxious to make the most of our attendance at their classes.

Afterward, we returned with Mr Ran to the city, where we bid him a fond farewell. It had been nice to actually give something back to the community, especially in light of the fact that neither of us had been working in the public/voluntary sector for many months, and pursuing our own agendas, whilst travelling SE Asia.

Thereafter we resumed our explorations. A day out to the local War Museum afforded yours truly an opportunity to brandish an AK47, and strike my best gangster pose. Imagine the look on your Managers face if you strolled into work with one of these tucked under your arm, on a Monday morning – Ho Hum.

Trent Capone…

The museum also contains an array of vehicles used in military conflicts in Cambodia over the years, and is worth a visit, although an hour or two at maximum is sufficient to look around. By night we frequented bars and Miss Wong’s, a classy cocktail joint, which is also worth a visit if you’re in the mood to go somewhere upmarket (a change for Emma and I – LoL!)

Evenings also invariably revolved around Baroso Whiskey, Black Panther stout, beers, smokes and chatting to our hotels resident Tuk Tuk drivers. After my early morning booze session with Mr Nori, Emma and I were well and truly welcomed into the Tuk Tuk drivers fold. Indeed, a late night session with Mr Jan outside left us both bleary eyed, when we eventually staggered back to our hotel room. We slept well that night, that’s for sure!

Finally, we began to plot to move onto Phnom Penh. There were a couple of options, namely coach or boat. The latter was more expensive ($35), but an opportunity to take a boat trip should never be passed up, in my humble view. On our morning of departure, we both slept in, then hurriedly scrambled, evacuation style, and managed to get out of our hotel room in twenty minutes. Fortunately as we opened our hotel room door, a member of staff appeared to fetch us, and with that we were off! Upon arrival at the dock, the boat resembled a military boat in some respects, and we were later informed that it was formerly a Russian vessel.

Captain Trent onboard

Once we had set off, the captain and his crew really put the boat through its paces – and it belted through the water leaving a large tidal wave in its wake. Our course took us across an open lake and then past the floating village of Chong Kneas, prior to us charging up the River Tonlé Sap, where we were afforded some fantastic views of the Cambodian rural countryside. In total the boat trip to Phnom Penh took on or abouts five hours.

Chong Kneas

We docked at Phnom Penh, waded through the standard army of awaiting Tuk Tuk drivers whom we had grown accustomed to, and bolted for a local cafe. To do so firstly gives the discerning traveller an escape route from the madding crowd, secondly a coffee, and perhaps most important of all, an opportunity to re-orientate yourself to new surroundings.

We also found that this approach gave us time to speak to catering staff, who would usually provide honest clarification as to how much we could expect to pay, for a transport to our intended hostel/guesthouse destination. Indeed, staff would often obtain a Tuk Tuk driver for us, who was then far more genuine than they might otherwise have been, in terms of the cost of a fare, than when they had been faced with travellers who had quite literally just ‘got off the boat’, half an hour earlier.

Phnom Penh

So, we’re in Cambodia, and up until this point in our blog, there’s a white elephant in the room. His name is, of course, Pol Pot. A friend had sent me an Email in which he enquired “I’ve always wondered why Comrade Pot went barmy?”

Personally, I would never use the word Comrade to describe Pot, or anyone else for that matter. None the less, I was curious to ascertain as much as I could about the man who was responsible for the death of countless Cambodians.

To that end, we were to proceed to the Genocide Museum, and the Killing Fields, in an attempt to find out exactly why so many innocent people had historically been ruthlessly condemned to death?