I really like the town of Siem Reap. The Siem Reap River runs through town, but it doesn't appear to flow in either direction.
There are some beautiful parks here, which are swept and tended every day. I'm in a "poor" country in a town with more civic pride than Baltimore. How sad.
My hostel in Siem Reap is not the best place I've stayed. They screwed up my laundry, they screwed up my travel arrangements, and the brillant owners decided to put a pool table right outside my bedroom. So it's a great place to stay unless you want to, you know, sleep.
But it sits next to Wat Bo, a working temple, which is kinda neat. This is the view from the second-floor balcony.
The monks must love to hear Britney Spears blaring from the hostel at 11 p.m.
The town is touristy, on the cusp of being too much so, but you can walk through the market without being attacked by vendors. The tuk-tuk drivers are as obnoxious as anywhere else, but in general people here don't seem as jaded or resentful towards tourists as I've seen at other places.
Maybe that's because tourism is still new here. The oldest pub in town is called the Angkor What? (Get it?) It opened in 1998.
For many years you couldn't travel here, not that you would have wanted to during the nightmare days of the Khmer Rouge and the aftermath. I had read about the landmine problem in Cambodia. Tourists are strongly encouraged to stay on the trails. You don't need to look hard to see why. Amputees are disturbingly common.
I was standing in the street today when a man approached me. I turned to give him a polite brushoff, when I saw that he had a tray of books he was selling. Both his arms were missing above the elbow. He wasn't wearing a shirt so tourists could see the gruesome scars across his torso. A large chunk of his abdomen was missing. I didn't need a book but I helped him out anyway. It's heartbreaking. While I was eating lunch today I saw a young boy begging, on crutches because he was missing a leg.
I really love the kids here. I generally am pretty cold to hustlers and vendors -- people who just want my money -- but it's hard to be tough with these kids. To begin with, they're so young. I've had kids try to sell me bracelets who couldn't be more than five years old.
They're all over Angkor, with baskets of magnets, bracelets, Buddha figurines, postcards, etc. They're so friendly and engaging that it's hard to say no. And they're enthusiastic about learning. They know things that kids their own age in the US don't know. One girl who sold me postcards could count to ten in ten languages. She's eight years old.
The conversations go much like this:
"Mistah, where you from?"
"I'm American."
"Ah, America. Very good. Obama very good. What state you live in?"
"It's a little state called Maryland, you probably --"
"The capital of Maryland is Anna-pole-is. The population is 5 million. The capital of America is Washington. The population of America is 300 million. The president of America is Barack Obama. If I tell you the capital of Uganda you buy bracelet. Three for two dollar. Good price for you."
Hard to argue with that. My favorite encounter was with a little girl named Mom. I bought a Coke from her. When I came out of the temple she tried to get me to buy something else. I told her I didn't need anything else.
"You give me one dollar."
"I'm not going to give you a dollar. I already bought a drink."
"You no give me one dollar my family no can send me to school. You come back in ten year I still here."
I gave her two. I was defenseless against her cold, ruthless logic. In America she'd go far. In Cambodia, well, she's probably right, she'll probably still be there in ten years.
I'll go back to being a cold-hearted bastard tomorrow.
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