I Want to Reserve One Monkey

My herbal sleeping remedies are just not up to snuff to battle the outer influences disrupting my sleep. Though I cannot really complain, this room is costing us 900 Q for the 5 nights; that comes to 90 Euros for the 5 nights. However, there is such a draft in the window that is divided into twelve smaller windows that it feels like the big bad wolf is huffing and puffing, trying to get in at night. At the back end, there is a dog that barks non-stop, but he competes with a rooster who must have jet lag. He starts to crow at 3am when it is definitely still dark out, so his body clock must be way off.  Back to the cost of the room, this is a typical amount for the hotels here in this town. Breakfast is included also.

When we went to the restaurant for breakfast, we had choices, so we ordered two eggs with coffee. It was not feeling like an oatmeal day. We asked for a portion of ham and said would pay the extra. This really threw them, so they must not have that request often.

The day’s adventure was the Atitlán Nature Reserve, which is about 3 miles from where we are staying. Tuk-tuk time! Good thing too, the roads are treacherous even in a vehicle and there are some steep hills getting there too. Entrance fees are 55 Q or 5.50 Euros, but for the really brave, hence neither of us, they had the Extreme Cable Adventure, where you could go up on the mountain via a cable car and then use a zip line to come flying down. That was 220 Q; sad to say we did not bring enough cash with us. Darn, next time.

We walked the trails up and down and around. There were seven suspension bridges, not my cup of tea, as I have a tremendous fear of heights outside of any type of container: plane, cable car, or elevator. We followed the signs displaying the little man hiking, as opposed to the plain route signs. I figured if that little man could do it, I could too. Being outdoorsy is my greatest challenge in life; I filled my quota in Cub and Boy Scouts and then gave it all up for an extended period of Lent that lasted over forty years. Still there are challenges to be had for one’s personal growth, plus I didn’t want to disappoint Ron. The park promised monkeys. We saw one…from a distance…from the back. We were only certain it was a monkey when we saw him run up a tree. There was also supposed to be some other animal like a raccoon, but none appeared. Walking through lush greenery, there were poinsettias the size of small trees, ferns and other plants that were Jurassic sized and dozens of coffee trees with coffee berries on them. With all of this, one would think there would be a great deal of bird watching. Not a single bird was around. It did make for a peaceful walk, there was not bird calls to draw our attention from the dangers of the path where irregular rocks appeared out of nowhere waiting to trip a shoe and send you flying or the hidden holes that are covered with fallen leaves that you inadvertently step into. Seriously, yes, we had a joyous time even if we did not see the promised animal life.

Back at the central info point, we snacked on nachos and fruit salad. These were by far the best nachos I have had in some time. Fresh papaya, pineapple, watermelon, and cantaloupe are excellent ways to snack through the day. On the other side of the park is a butterfly refuge. Just as we were collecting our energy to check it out, we ran into the Australians from our boat ride. They had done it all and were leaving.

The butterfly area necessarily was stuffed with greenery of all kinds to accommodate different types of butterflies. There were not that many visible, though there was one black and red one that was totally camera shy. Monarchs or seem to be less evasive and will almost pose for you. There was supposed to be a display in the back, but it looked abandoned long ago.

Another tuk-tuk took us back to our place and from there; we relaxed, thought about what things we wanted to buy and shop for and then decided on dinner.  As we were out walking, there is one coffee shop that has desserts to drool over that are anything but traditional. Who should be sitting there, but the Spanish family that we were on the boat trip with. We chatted for awhile. They had hiked up the volcano and were exhausted. We left them and had dinner, but planned on returning for dessert. When we did, our neighbors from the hotel were at the next table. Small world, small town! As were were enjoying our cake and coffee, the little kids who are hustling wares came up to us. One little boy about 9 years old, said to me "Friend, I remember you from last night." I told him I had the same memories of seeing him too, since he would not leave our table for thirty minutes no matter how many times, I had said I wasn't interested. Tonight, he and his partner in hustling were eying my cake and asked for a bite. I had not assurance of how the waitress would react, but I told them I would buy them one piece to share. It is like feeding pigeons, once you show attention to one, a half dozen more show up. Two more children arrived as if a signal were flashed in the sky. Asking the waitress for 2 pieces of the cake of their choice, I left them to it. With a touch of wisdom, the waitress cut their choices equally and put them on plastic plates with plastic forks and divvied them out. Each of the four children came up to me with plate in hand and said "Thank you". My heart melted. 

This is a totally non-type A vacation. I am not certain if I like it or not, but I certainly don’t want to make a habit of it.

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Zanzibar, Tanzania > TanzAir > Mobasa, Kenya

It is a good thing we set the alarm; our wake-up call never came Having showered last night, we only needed to jump into clothes. Ron called for someone to come for our bags, but then we had to wait in the lobby for the taxi scheduled for 5am. It was only 4:40am. When the taxi called to say it was there, the security men carried our bags out to the car. The ride to the airport was only twenty minutes, but then it became surreal. At this hour of the morning, it is still dark out. When the driver pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine, we did not know where we were. For all we knew, we were kidnapped and were waiting for ransome notes to go out for our collection. Our flight was scheduled for 6:30am, the ticket states you must be checked-in an hour before and gates closed fifteen minutes prior to the flight. It was not until the driver offered to go see what was happening since there were no lights on in the termimal, we didn't realize we really were at the airport.

When the driver returned, he said the only people there were security and nothing was open  yet. He was kind enough to allow us to stay in the car. What was especially strange was not not one car joined us for the next twenty minutes. Surely, there had to be other tourists flying this morning who believed the hour rule was enforceable. By 6:00, we ventured out and took in front of the TanzAir check-in desk; the next desk Excel Air had a Muslim woman agent working by oil  lamp and on her mobile phone. At 6:20am, an agent came to check us in. After receiving boading passes, we had to accompany our luggage when the put it through the scanners. I guess if it were suspect, they wanted to cut down on the time it would take them to hunt us down in the miniscule airport and do an immediate incarceration.

When our luggage passed inspection, we were given a card to fill out for leaving the country. Seeing how the rest of the infrastructure works, I am sure these cards a dumped into some pile somewhere never to be referred to again. Their sole purpose is intimidation of the passenger. We were immediately passed through Customs, and then sent to security, followed by the boarding area, a room the total size of our apartment. There is a departure tax payable, but TanzAir includes it in their fares, so we were able to pass just by showing our boarding passes. It was now 6:45am and no signs of boarding.

Finally, we were called and told to follow a security person who walked us to the plane, a Cessna. It was so tiny, they loaded our luggage into the wings. The ceiling was so low, I thought Ron and I were going to have to crawl in on hands and knees to get to a seat. With only 5 passengers on the plane, we had our choice of seats amongst the ten available. There was no barrier between the pilot and seating, but with only one pilot who was getting on in years and overweight, I thought I should watch every move he made just in case one of us was called on to land the plane if he had a heart attack. Just like in the movies, I was waiting to be the hero of the day. After we were in the air my confidence in his last heath report must have kicked in, because I fell asleep.

Landing, we ended our journey far, far away from the real planes or in reality jets. It was like we were in a toy plane and landed at the toy airport, but real people were able to go to the real airport. Hustled into a van, a worker took us through the lines. She tried getting us through Customs faster by speaking to the supervisor, but the 5 passengers held passports from 3 countries. He sent us to the African Nationals line, which was pretty quick. I had fears of having  to buy another Visa since we did not have a multiple entry Visa, but it was a non-issue.  While we were wating our little airport helper asked me what I presents I brought her from Zanzibar. When I lied about not buying anything, she suggested I could give her a token of appreciation for all she has done for us. It was worth a few bucks for her help in getting from Toy Town to Big People's Land, so she received $3. The radar signals must have gone out at that point. Another one in security gear came over to help us find a taxi, which he negotiated in Swahili. I think we paid extra to include his commission from the driver. 

We arrived at the Castle Royal Hotel Mombasa by 10am, never expecting to be able to check-in so early, but we were able to after all. This is our downgrading in service, now at a three star hotel. It is nice, but not lavish as we have come to be used to. Our first room was smallish with twin beds, not a problem, but it did have a minor musty smell. There is supposed to be wireless Internet in the rooms, but I could not connect. They sent us an IT guy, but he could not get the signal either. We walked the halls with the computer on, but no luck. The decision was made to change our room. This is much larger with a double and twin bed, a large balcony, and it sits at the top of the stairs on the first floor. This is the first hotel we have been in that has an elevator, now that we don't need it. This is also the first hotel that has not had mosquito nets over the beds.  

A nap was in order. I picked up a cold from Zanzibar with the hotel turning on off the electricity during the night. First we were cool with the fan going, then dying of the heat when it went off, then freezing again when it went back on. That combined with fumes really did a number on my sinuses, so I was not feeling too well by the time we arrived. 


After some sleep, we were able to walk to the Holy Ghost Catholic Cathedral, Fort Jesus, and Old Town. Being Saturday, there was not much open, except the fort, but the heat was a deciding factor for climbing to the top another day. We wound up taking a tuk-tuk back and had dinner at the hotel. The salad was the best I have had on this trip and the four cheese sauce over penne pasta was delicious, steaming hot, and overly generous.

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Mack the Tuk-Tuk Driver

There is nothing about this hotel that has not charmed us. The services are excellent, the room has plenty of room, and the television gets over 50 channels, one of which is BBC, so we were able to get Iowa caucus news. The furniture is good quality, not cheap junk and the mattresses are superb.

Breakfast is included, so I was able to get an omelet with a roll and coffee. The amount of butter was nearly humorous that for such a tiny bit they would bother dirtying a dish. Ron asked for some jam and it is 2 cents extra. No complaints, it is just a funny cultural difference.

At 9:00 am, while we were eating, our bicycle tuk-tuk driver was waiting outside for us, like a puppy waiting for a scrap from the table. We were the scraps he wanted. We had arranged for 10:00, but he must have been fearful we would skip out on him. He most likely was casing the place guarding all of our escape routes. We went out to tell him we had to rearrange our hotel in Ho Chi Minh City; Ron had the dates wrong and we were scheduled to check-in today. The reception was kind enough to call and make the changes. He was happy to wait for us and he had a friend with him. There was no way the two of us would last in one tuk-tuk for a long distance ride without one or both of us either falling out or becoming crippled along the way.

We asked our main ‘driver’ his name three times, but each time, neither of us could understand what he said, but is sounded something like Mack. Between us, this is what we called him. He has a stuttering problem in English and in Vietnamese. Watching his face when he is speaking his mother tongue, you can see he struggles at times, his head goes downward and his face contorts. Regardless, we were off to the mountain and the temples. We agreed on 80,000 Dong each since we had two ‘drivers’.

Riding a regular bicycle with someone sitting on the bar is plenty of exertion, but to have a cart attached with a 6 foot 1 inch man adding weight is enough to make me want a rest just thinking about it. For him, it was effortless and we sped through town to go tell it on the mountain over the river and through the water buffalo fields, through hill and dale. The ride was approximately twenty minutes long before he parked his vehicle and said we would walk from here. Here was an area filled with temples, Buddhist temples. As we entered the first temple, I put my cigarette out and was able to take my shoes off to enter, but Mack said not to bother. Unlike in Thailand and Cambodia, they do not remove their shoes when entering the temples. The caretaker was walking around smoking a cigarette, which shocked both of us, but Mack said in Vietnam you can smoke anywhere. I had an instant picture of a Catholic priest offering the Eucharist with a cigarette dangling from his mouth and started to chuckle.

Each of the temples was dazzling in its own way and Mack was great about explaining things to us. Many of the monk caregivers from each temple are buried within the temple and a memorial is set up for each of them. Photos were allowed in every temple except the main one. You could smoke in it, but not photograph it. One of the Buddhas looked like a Las Vegas night show, with a robe that lit up and behind his head a rotating color wheel of reds, oranges, and greens. We dubbed him the Elvis Buddha as irreverent as that may be, he did look entertaining, though from our western perspective, really tacky. Along with Buddha, there were female statues, which presumable were Kwan Yin. She is frequently portrayed as a slender woman in flowing white robes who carries a white lotus in her left hand, an abiding symbol of purity of heart and spirit. Some answers to our questions we received from Mack were incomprehensible and rather than embarrass him by asking him to repeat it multiple times. We had to piecemeal information we could understand.

Outside the largest temple, there was a little boy running around with a strange haircut. He had patches of hair on each side of the head, while the rest of his head was close to shaved. Mack explained that the family has dedicated him to the temple. The temple was an active place with dozens of people bringing in offerings, lighting incense and praying. It turns out that this is a normal day’s business and all of the surrounding shops sell flowers and baskets of food for people to buy for offerings in the temple. If I lived here, I would have to seriously look into Buddhism. A peaceful calm comes over me when I am in a temple.

We did not make it completely up the mountain as Mack has planned since the temples are less ornate as you climb higher, so it did not make much sense to go further when we have seen the best first. When reaching the bottom, we stopped for noodle soup. My pork noodle soup had kidney or liver in it and I was more than willing to share it with the two Chihuahuas running around the place.

On the ride back, we saw water buffalos grazing in front yards, houses on stilts, woman cooking from portable pots, and other cultural iconography making this country stand out from the rest and ultimately charming. We had Mack drop us off at the hotel, but he had convinced us we should take a boat ride to see fish farming, the only Muslim mosque in the area, and a small indigenous group of people who are silk weavers. We agreed to be picked up at 2:30 giving us a chance to get our butts back in shape before taking off again.

Mack was outside panting waiting our return by 2:00. We both managed to fit into his cart by facing each other and we took off to the dock. We boarded a boat, the three of us with the woman who was our captain. First stop was a fish farm. Interestingly, there are many houses that are built on stilts out on the river. The only access to them or from them is by boat, but whole families live here full time, usually fishermen. Some even have dogs, but I cannot figure how they walk it or train it for that matter.

The fish farm is one such building as the houses, but with racks for floors that are lifted up with thousands of fish kept confined. Mack fed them to show the tremendous reception they give for food. When they reach a certain size, they are transferred to another holding area, all the while kept in their native waters, the river.

The next stop was the silk weavers and for the life of us, we could not understand why these people were special. After many futile attempts, we gave us asking for an explanation we could understand. Where our boat docked, it was incredibly high getting from the boat to the dock. With my bad hip, it was impossible for me to lift my leg that high, so wanted Ron to go without me. Mack would not hear of this and I thought he was going to lift me himself, but being half my size, I am appreciative he did not try. I had to sit on the dock first and get up from there. Embarrassing moments are part of the game of travel.

In this community, all of the men wear sarongs, not pants. Within minutes, Ron had a sarong wrapped around him, a silk scarf around his neck and a hat on his head. In the time it took me to take his picture with both our cameras, I was being costumed also. Excellent craftsmanship, beautiful colors, but not something we would go around wearing in Hungary or the U.S. for that matter. With disappointed looks at their lack of a sale, we disrobed, said thanks for the chuckle and moved onward to the mosque in the area. All of the while, we were surrounded by fifteen little girls trying their best to get us to buy their waffles. They look like Belgium waffles, but have different fruits in them. Ron succumbed to one little girl unbeknownst to me, while I was promising I would buy 7 quarters of waffle for $1.00 from another little girl when we returned. I was hoping to shed her like dead fur.

When we returned from the mosque, my little parasite was ready to storm me for her dollar, having no other diversion than to wait for my return. When I looked for a dollar, I did not have one, only a ten and was not about to give it up expecting change. Her face was heartbreaking, so I gave her more than enough for two quarters of waffles and then gave her all of my change besides without expecting yet more goodies in return. She was still clearly disappointed. I seem to think she could not return home until her quota was filled for the day.

Yet another little one latched on to me and begged sorrowfully for me to buy from her too and would not take no for an answer. Just as we were going down the plank, another tourist was approaching and I suggested she try him instead. Like a mechanical robot, she changed direction and attention to target this newest victim.

After we headed back, we decided to walk around, so said our good-byes to Mack giving him his requested amount of money and a large tip besides. He was truly thankful. His plan is to ride for one more year and then leave the country to study English in Great Britain. We wish him luck.

Yearning for a good cup of coffee, we asked at the hotel for a recommendation. It was a distance away, but we walked needing to flex our muscles. The ‘good’ coffee is an individual French pot type device that sits over a glass. There are no lattes, so ordering a white coffee means the coffee drips into condensed milk. Aside from not being what I really want, it was tasty with the right amount of sweetness from the milk.

When I used the bathroom, the toilet was an American Standard brand. The lid on the tank was cracked and the toilet had no seat. The cracked lid with the brand name, conjured up metaphors in my mind about the broken American standards in the country now and especially with primaries starting to take place.

They tried overcharging us and we are not certain if it was an accident or not, but 10,000 Dong is a big mistake. Fortunately, they had left the menus on the table so I could show the waiter the costs of what we had and why the bill was wrong, because he did not speak English.

By the time we walked back to the hotel, the sidewalk restaurants and portable kitchens were invading any free space usually reserved for walking, so it was a dodge ‘em game with the traffic getting back.

For dinner, we decided to ask the desk clerk for a recommendation and he gave us three, each out of walking distance. Not surprisingly, there were two tuk-tuk drivers outside the hotel door pleading for business. We hired both of them to go to the first restaurant on the list. As a good sign, it was filled with locals and we were the only obvious foreigners there. As usual, I have problems finding things on a menu I can eat throughout Asia, because I am highly allergic to fish. That rules out not only the obvious fish, but all things cooked in fish sauce also, which is often the case with beef or pork dishes. I had three options on this menu; however, I could have ordered squid, frogs, snails or snake, but I am just not that adventurous before a major bus trip in the very near future. My beef with sesame was served with a salad. My rule of thumb is not to eat any fruit or vegetable that does not need to be peeled unless the menu specifies it was washed in pure water. Out of the salad, I ate the onions and cucumbers, left behind the lettuce and tomatoes.

Tomorrow, we leave for Ho Chi Minh City on a five hour bus ride on a bus without a bathroom. NPO (nothing by mouth) for me after 9:00 pm.

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Happy Phnom Penh New Year

We were leaving today for Phnom Penh, really sad to leave Siem Reap. We had to make one last trip to the Blue Pumpkin; I had yet to try their mango Danish. We did not bring the computer this time; we had everything packed and ready to go. That Danish was worth returning for!!

We took our things across the street where we were to get the bus to PP, a five hour trip. Normally, I would have to be drugged for such a trip, but I acquiesced since there were few alternatives. There was only a van waiting for us, but we were told it was taking us to the bus. They loaded our things and we drove to a bus station, showed our tickets, received our bus number, and then were loaded on another small bus. We were promised a luxury bus with a bathroom. This was a van on steroids, not luxurious in the least. We drove literally for one block and were told to get off and onto our REAL bus. This one was more like it. It was impeccably clean, it did have a bathroom, and the seats were comfortable with an extensive amount of leg room. The bus had a host too. After we took off, he came around to give each of us a bottle of water, the next trip was a snack box with a meat dumpling and a dessert turnover. The third trip was wet napkins.

Most of the ride was on two lane roads with horns tooting most of the time. People do not drive on one side or the other, but wherever there is space. Blowing the horn lets others know you are passing. As we passed through each province, the host would tell us something about it. I bought a t-shirt in Siem Reap that has Same, Same on the front and But, Different on the back. This is the way I would describe the scenery. Just when you think they all look alike, there is a miniscule difference to set it apart. Many houses were on high stilts for the rainy season. Cows and water buffalo were grazing along the side of the road and in some cases across the road. Some areas had elaborate entry ways into temple grounds. They looked Buddhist.

When we bought our tickets, we also booked a hotel through the same agency from their sister hotel. We were told there would be a tuk-tuk waiting with our names when we arrived and this would transport us to the hotel. Sure enough, a young man was standing by with our names on a sign. He took us to the hotel and when we pulled up the porters came running up to say there were no vacancies. We said we had a reservation. They told us to come in. They did not have our reservation. They wanted to know who we spoke with when we called. We went through the whole thing about the manager of their sister hotel calling to make the reservation, but there was nothing and they had no rooms. The offered their third sister hotel down the street. This would be a 4 star hotel and the room would be $45.00 a night versus the $30 we intended to pay. We agreed, though with some disgust.

The tuk-tuk took us to the other hotel and we checked in. There are Visa and MasterCard signs all over the windows and on the reception desk. The clerk asked how I wanted to pay and I said by credit card. He says, we don’t have a credit card machine here. I point out the fifteen credit card signs all over the place while repeating what he just said. I thought I misunderstood him. No misunderstanding, if we wanted to pay by credit card, we would have to return to the hotel we just left, let them swipe my card in their reader and then return with the receipt to this hotel. They would provide the tuk-tuk for this transaction. Just out of aggravation and stubbornness, I still insisted on paying by credit card.

Before we went back to swipe the card, Ron asked for a second pillow and was told “Yes, yes, yes!” Went we went down for dinner, Ron asked for the second pillow a second time. “Yes, yes, yes!” When we came back from dinner, Ron called down for a second pillow. Same story, no pillow. I also asked if they knew of anywhere there was WiFi in the city. They had no idea, but they had computers in the lobby I could use for $2.00 an hour.

We found this restaurant that is a training center for reforming homeless children. They have a training center; they are student cooks, wait people, hosts, and so on. We went there for dinner. Very impressive. Friends the restaurant that trains former street children located at 215 Street 13 Telephone 012-802-072; www.streetfriends.org. The trainees have t-shirts with their logo and Student on the back, while the others have Teacher on the back. The place was packed. The food was good, but the service was exceptional.

On the walk back, I noticed a café that has free WiFi between 5-7pm with every coffee purchase. I went in to ask about other times and it is $2.00 an hour. Great, we were planning for tomorrow to check on our reservation for Vietnam. We returned to the hotel, I turned on the computer to write and VIOLA, the hotel has WiFi and it is free. The desk people have no idea.

This room is oversized with two beds, totally comfortable, but the pillows are so stuffed, they feel like they stuffed each of them with feathers from 10 geese, but forgot to remove the feathers first. I could swear I heard honking coming from them. Not getting the second pillow Ron wanted has given this hotel demerits. He uses it for his legs, not his head, so bounce to the ounce doesn’t matter to him.

Overall, with the exception of a walking promenade along the river with flags from every nation, this is not much different from Siem Reap. The tuk-tuk drivers are just as aggressive and desperate for work as they were in Siem Reap. Sadly for them, everywhere we want to go is so close by, we really don’t need them. When we did, it was the hotel that supplied a driver.

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Happy New Year

Only hours are left to this year, but we slept in as long as possible, which turned out to be 9:00 am. Big whoop!! We needed to make reservations for a place in Vietnam, so Blue Pumpkin to the rescue. Just as we walked up, someone took the patio table by the electric outlet, but there was one on the first floor, so I grabbed it. The store next door has a great selection of unique gifts, so I made my fifth trip in there and made one last purchase.

Dropping off the computer, we took off walking in the opposite direction of the market area. We have passed this area a number of times going and coming from Angkor, but have not stopped here. We walked quite a distance looking for a store that Ron had read about in the travel guide, but we could not find it. Street signs or any identification is nil. We never did find the store, but we did find a café that serves good coffee.

On the way back, we stopped at some food vendors and looked at strange fruits. We had tasted dragon fruit in Kuala Lumpur, but we never tasted this fruit that looks like a red tennis ball with porcupine syndrome. The woman peeled one for us and we tasted its juicy sweet yet tangy flesh. Then she peeled these little brown marbles and popped out a slimy ball with a dark pit in the center, making it look like an eyeball staring at me, with the pit as a pupil. It felt like what I imagine an eyeball would feel like or at least what my eyeball feels like when I put in contact lens. We bought some of each just as thanks for introducing us to these new tastes. We will give them to the hotel staff as we leave on a bus tomorrow.

The rest of the afternoon was spent writing, working with photos, and just kicking back. Ron wanted to go to the Blue Pumpkin sale. After 7:00 pm, all of their left over baked goods is 50% off and we would have them for snacks on the bus. We started speaking to a tuk-tuk driver who was telling us that although tourism has been up this year, it still has been a bad year for the tuk-tuk drivers. The increase in tourism is due to the Koreans; however, there are Korean businesses here that cater to them. The Korean travel agencies here draw them, then Korean bus services drive them around and they eat at Korean restaurants. Then the profits are sent back to Korea, not contributing to the local economy. Sounds like Wal-Mart. He also said that many of the tuk-tuk drivers are from the provinces where their family has sold a cow or ox in order to buy a tuk-tuk for their son to come to Siem Reap to make money and send it back home. Unfortunately, these drivers have to rent a room and survive here in the city when they are not driving or trying to convince someone to ride with them. Add to this the increasing price of gasoline and he has us in tears for these poor guys.

As we were talking, he asked where we were going for dinner. We had not decided yet, so he suggested a hotel that has a buffet dinner and a dance show. Wary of such suggestions, he offered to drive us to the hotel to make a decision when we arrived. It was indeed one of the larger hotels and it is packed with who else, but Koreans. We were able to get a table right near the stage, very lucky since it was so full of bus tour groups and we did not have a reservation. The show was excellent dances of Cambodian culture. The buffet was extensive with Cambodian dishes and it was all you can eat sans drinks. Dinner was $12.00 each, a bargain by far.

Our tuk-tuk friend returned to get us and return us to the hotel where I will work on pictures and Ron will nap for the fourth time today. When we arrived, we asked our driver how much we owed, bearing in mind the sob story he gave us. He said whatever we wanted to give him, making it difficult since the ride was only 10 minutes and easily walkable. However, being a special day, the end of the year, we should prosper others and I gave him $7.00. He about did somersaults and it was not an act. I believe he thought we were more generous than he anticipated.

We hung around the hotel room until 11:00 and then went to the block party. There were about six blocks cut off from traffic, but only one block was a party area. Beers were $1.00 and the street was mobbed. No fabulous fireworks or other fun things, but hundreds of people having a good time dancing in the street to loud music making merry. The Cambodians do not celebrate New Years at this time, so they all wished us a happy one. I think theirs falls in April.

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Please, No More Temples

We have a new driver today, Somat, the tuk-tuk driver who will ferry us around for a reasonable $8.00 for the day. First things first, we went hunting for breakfast and when we returned our smiley driver was waiting. After a greeting, he thanked us for giving him work again today. Each driver seems to have their own ideas of what should be seen in the temple area, but none of them take into consideration that this may not be your first day. When Somat gave his ideas, Ron had to pre-empt them with the fact that we had already been to each of the places he suggested. He took us to Angkor Thom, the oldest city in the empire. Inside the city walls are the Byron temple with 216 faces, the terrace of the elephants and the terrace of the leopard king.

Really we were at a loss for where else he should take us; each of us were getting templed out. When he suggested something, we admitted we had been already our first two days. When tour books recommend a seven day pass, saying you need this much time to ‘do justice’ to the area, I have to strongly acquiesce that this is beyond my capabilities for maintaining an interest. After two days, I could have finished off seeing temples and have been perfectly happy, but with the choices of 1, 3, or 7 day passes, there seemed to be a need to utilize that third day. If nothing else, the drive around the area is worth observing. The descendants of the area are still living there and by western standards their conditions are deplorable. However, it does not keep the people from smiling and waving as you pass them by.

By 12:30, we were ready to return to the hotel. Somat seemed unnerved that we did not use him as long as he anticipated and I suspected he feared of losing out on his full $8.00. When I gave him a $10.00 and told him to keep the change, his reaction was better than seeing a child’s on Christmas morning. He bowed three times and told us how happy we have made him giving him work for the day. We arranged for him to pick us up again for this evening.

The staff at our hotel is absolutely adorable. One of the young men who attends the desk in the later afternoon has a book My First Book of Animals. He is trying to learn animal names and has his book open and is studying every time we come in. The young women who work the morning shift are all smiles and cheerful each time they see us. When they hand us the key to the room, they hold it on two open palms. They are the sweetest staff we have come across. None of them can be over 25 years old, yet I wish we could take them with us to do training for other staff in other parts of the world, starting with Budapest.

The Blue Pumpkin called to us to check e-mail, upload the blog and have a real brewed coffee. The afternoon is not the time to go. They have six tables on the patio and four on the first floor. They were all occupied. They do have two other levels, with tables and full wall and deep white leather sofas where they serve you on breakfast tray tables. However, I was scouting for a plug to electrify my computer; the battery only lasts for 1 ½ hours. The closest I could get was one table away where a woman and her son were busy writing out postcards. They had a stack that even at the impoverished rates here, would cost a king’s ransom to mail. They must have had fifty cards in their stack, but they were prepared with pre-addressed mailing labels. I quit sending postcards ten years ago, so it was beyond my comprehension why anyone would send so many unless they were from Luxembourg and promised one to each citizen in the country. When a table near a plug finally became available, I was working feverishly and then the WiFi stopped. I thought it was my computer, but then realized I was working on battery power once again. It was a few minutes later that Ron noticed all of the lights were off. The woman working behind me noticed too and asked a waiter. He said sometimes the electricity goes out for an hour and at other times for hours on end. There is never any way of knowing. Looking out the window, we could see the lights were off in all of the shops across the street also. With no Internet, it was time to leave and go shopping instead, carrying my laptop along the way.

At 7:15 pm on Saturdays, Dr. Beat Richner gives a cello concert for free at the Children’s Hospital. Somat was waiting for us at 6:30 and gave us his award winning smile when he saw us leave the hotel. Although the traffic was horrendous, we were still early to the magnificent complex where children are cared for from neo-natal onward. Bright, modern, and well designed we went to the auditorium, but it was freezing cold, so waited outside until it was time.

Dr. Richner is a Swiss medical doctor who worked in the Kantha Bopha I children’s hospital in Phnom Penh before the Khmer Rouge took over. After their fall, King Norodom Sihanouk asked him to restore Kantha Bopha I children’s hospitals in 1991; it reopened in 1992. Since then, Dr. Richner through fund raising has since opened more hospitals including this one. In 2008, the fifth children’s hospital will be opened. Their annual statistics are impressive: 600,000 visits by sick children, 55,000 hospital admissions by severely sick children, 9,000 surgeries, 100,000 vaccinations, 5,500 births. They sum this up by stating that each month 2,800 children would end up dying if it were not for these hospitals.

The concert was a combination of concert and fund raising event. Dr. Richner would play a song on his cello with expertise, and then gave us statistics of the hospitals. He stated that Princess Anne from Great Britain who is Chair of the Save Our Children Foundation came to see the hospitals. She said she believed the technology used was too advanced for Cambodia. She told him that the technology should be on par with the economic status of the people it was serving and the technology here was better than they had in Britain. He said he told her that is why the Brits go to France for health care. Dr. Richner stated he has heard the same comments from the World Health Organization and they will not assist in funding since the technology is above the standards for the country. However, Dr. Richner argues that if they were on a level of the country’s economy, they would not be saving lives. He returns to Switzerland twice a year to perform a concert and fund raise. The auditorium was packed full and he received a standing ovation when he was finished.

Outside was a jungle of tuk-tuks waiting for their fares, but we did not have to worry. Somat was waiting close at hand ready to escort us to the correct tuk-tuk. Our ride there and back and his choosing to wait an hour and a half for us to reappear cost us $3.00. I gave him a $5.00 bill and he again did the triple bow with unadulterated humility. If anyone reading this blog should come here, look for driver 6325. You will not be sorry.

Dinner tonight was a diversion; we ate at the Mexican restaurant. Mexican food in Cambodia is about equal to Mexican food in Budapest. It was as good as it gets when you are not close to any authentic Mexican food outlets. As we were sitting on the patio, two little girls about 7 and 9 years old, came up to us selling bamboo and reed bracelets. We told them we did not need bracelets, but one little one persisted. She and Ron went round and round with bantering. She asked where we were from and Ron said Hungary. She immediately piped up with “That is in Europe”. He then said we were originally from the U.S. and she responded with “Washington, D.C.” is the capital. He then started throwing out other countries and she responded with the correct capital. Then she went back to bargaining for the sale of her bracelets. When he held strong that we did not have a need for them, she suggested they play three games of Tic-Tac-Toe. If he won 2 out of 3 games, she would leave us alone. If she won, we would fork over the money and get bracelets in return. The results were 1-1 with one null game, no winner. So to break the tie, our young sales woman suggested three goes at Rock, Paper, Scissors. We now have 10 thin bracelets and five thicker ones. It was worth the $5.00 for the entertainment value. I am now wearing one of the thin bracelets since I was assured it would bring me good luck. Actually, I am wearing it as a reminder of the harsh circumstances children have in different parts of the world that many of us are not even aware of. She is out selling cheap little bracelets until god knows what hour and still has the ability to learn country capitals. What would her life be like if she could get a proper education without having to spend her evenings out hawking goods?

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Temples and More Temples

Chon charmed us into using his taxi services today, but for $25.00 for a day, it is a deal. The temples would be difficult to get to without a car or Tuk-tuk. Tuk-tuks are motorcycles with a carriage to seat four attached. There are hundreds of them around and each driver will beg to give you a ride. They are very inexpensive and show the devastation of the economy here. They are desperate for work, so we felt compelled to use Chon for our day’s travels to the temples to give something to the local community.

Chon is supposedly a trained tour guide, but has not taken the license exam yet. It is only offered every 2-3 years, depending on need and presumably costs $3,000, which he has not been able to afford. One portion of the exam is a language exam and I suspect his English is not up to par for that particular exam. Although we could communicate, it was difficult at times. When he was giving us information about the various temples, he was at a loss for words to fully explain what he wanted to say.

First order of business was finding a place to eat breakfast. Chon drove us to a restaurant on the temple grounds, where we could get the much needed coffee and some eggs. Coffee in most places is Nescafé, not brewed coffee. There is no Starbucks around. Chon looked a bit irritated that we needed to make this unscheduled stop, but once we were on our way, he returned to his happy self.

As you enter the temple grounds, you have to pass a check point where you show you entry pass. At each temple, there is again a control checking passes to make sure no one passed through the first check point. Fines for not having a pass while on a temple grounds is $350.00. We drove through lovely forested areas before coming to a wide and lovely lake. Chon explained this was the moat for Angkor Wat, but first a primer.

The Angkor area is the heart and spiritually center of the kingdom of Cambodia. Yes, they still have a king. Angkor was where temples were built from the 9^th to the 13^th centuries when the god-kings built temples to honor themselves or their parents. Angkor Wat is the largest and also has the distinction of being the world’s largest religious building. It was built by Suryavarman II in 1112. The temples switched from Hindu to Buddhist, back to Hindu and then Buddhist again depending on which religion held dominance at the time. Now it seems, most of them are rededicated to Buddha.

Now I have to admit that as magnificently superb as these temples are or were depending on their current state, I have never been one to pursue Asia studies with any great interest. I am more interested in the modern people then their ancient culture. After being to Thailand where the temples are bright and colorful with gold dripping down every precipice, these are colorless grey or blackened stones. What one needs to appreciate and I do are the intricate carvings on these stones. Gods, goddesses, demons, dancing girls, servants, and pictures of daily living are all memorialized in the stones. Depending on the religion of the time, determined which gods and demons were displayed. Just as the pyramids in Egypt, it boggles the mind how they constructed these temples without modern equipment. Then the intricacy of the carvings that go on for the length of a city block with such exactitude is awe-inspiring. To this day, no building can be built in Siem Reap that is taller than Angkor Wat, much to the dismay of the chain hotels. This was the same in Philadelphia at one time, when no building could be taller than William Penn’s hat on city hall, but when that law was changed, it ruined the skyline.

Chon took us to three of the major temples, each different and significant in their own way. By 2:30 we had had enough and returned to the hotel. He wanted to pick us up for a dinner buffet with Cambodian dancing, but we declined.

Fortunately, we were wearing our Crocs; the temple grounds are sandy and our shoes and feet were covered in red sand. Crocs go right in the shower with us to clean off. The air conditioning in the room kept us in for a few hours before heading out again. We went back to the Austrian restaurant for a beer and to use their WiFi, but it was not keeping a signal. After they rebooted their router twice, we gave up and left.

Dinner was at the Red Piano, a charming two level restaurant painted in a tomato red with dark wood beams and oversized pictures of the Wats on the walls. When we left, we were barraged by tuk-tuk drivers and finally accepted one’s offer to drive us the three blocks back to the hotel for $1.00. When we arrived, our driver Somat, wanted to be our driver for the next day, but we had arranged to meet Chon again, so we told Somat we would hire him for the day after.

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