Cambodia: Kingdom of Wonder

Whoever came up with Cambodia’s slogan, “Kingdom of Wonder” knew what they were talking about. So far, having just seen Phnom Penh, all I can say is…as advertised!

For starters, US Dollars are the preferred currency, so much so, that ATM machines only dispense USD. The only way you get Cambodian riel is if you require change under one dollar. And speaking of riel, Cambodians aren’t interested in receiving it (it’s kind of like the smaller Chinese coins that all merchants freely hand out but none are willing to take as payment). For the most part, prices are presented in USD, so it’s not as if this is Soviet Russia where everybody wants USD, so they engage in under-the-table transactions. The Cambodian national bank only deals in the currency of another nation. Tres bizarre!

Phnom Penh is nothing like I expected, yet it is everything I thought it would be all at the same time. It is deservedly known as the “Tarnished Pearl of Asia”. The streets are lined with crumbling French colonial buildings, some of which probably should be condemned (and perhaps are, but that doesn’t stop the impoverished masses from needing a place to live and calling it home regardless). Occasionally you might see some guy walking around with a machine gun. Yeah, you read the right, average, everyday, non-law-enforcement types pack serious heat out in the open for all to see. The roads are cluttered with thousands of motorcycles carrying up to five (count ‘em!) full-grown adults at once. Paved streets intersect with dirt roads at random. You can’t walk on the sidewalk because there are at least five motorcycle repair shops on every block, making the sidewalk a parking lot and the street a pedestrian walkway, albeit a dangerous one since you have to dodge cars, bikes, and motorcycles (and Lexus SUV’s that have the name “Lexus” emblazoned on the side, so no one has any doubt as to what kind of car the person is driving).

I’m fairly sure that there are only three traffic lights in the entire city, turning transportation into a chaotic, yet well-choreographed dance. The streets are filthy; the air is full of dirt. Beggars are scattered along the waterfront. Many are mothers with small children. Some of the children are severely deformed with a disease similar to elefantitus. Many beggars are missing or have deformed, unusable limbs (most likely from land mine injuries or resulting from malnutrition and a tainted food supply—all preventable in industrialized nations). Children run from restaurant to restaurant trying to sell books and postcards to tourists, armed with tenacity and clever senses of humor. At first it surprised me that the restaurant staff didn’t shoo them away, but after spending some time here I realized that, perhaps, Cambodians have a strong sense that whatever their station in life, it could always be taken away without warning. And because of that, I think they are understanding and sympathetic of struggle—because no one lives without struggle and fear.

Despite all of the dirt, grime, poverty, and sadness, Phnom Penh has a charm to it that is unmatched so far in my travels. The people are lovely. Everyone we encountered spoke excellent English (including and especially the kids trying to sell their wares to the tourists), and people were happy to chat. The streets are alive at night. Despite the prevalence of beggars, I never felt overwhelmed or under siege.

It feels like a smile goes a long way here. I have no doubt that being generally pleasant helped us get personal attention and good service while we were out on the town. I know that this all may sound naïve because I was a tourist, so obviously people wanted my money, leading them to be nice to me…but I really think the people are genuine. There are plenty of places that rely on tourism for their income, yet are terrible to the tourists—you know, like a touristy restaurant in Paris…or, say the Russell Stover’s Factory store in Corsicana, Texas. I didn’t find the Cambodians that I encountered to be resentful of the tourists (though as my trip continued to even more touristy areas, it became clear that everyone did want a piece of me…but still it wasn’t as bad as the whole of China).

When it comes to service, Cambodia is all that and a platter of escargot. The attention to detail, service, and presentation at the restaurants was something to be admired. Our first stop was at a lovely restaurant we found in our guidebook. Our mission: Eat Khmer food. Mission accomplished and then some (including a bathroom worthy of a “6” rating, which seems to be the norm around these parts)! Our waiter was a very funny, slightly flirty, handsome young man. He directed us to a few dishes that were delicious and was very attentive. When we finished our meal, he chatted with us for twenty minutes or so, telling us about his hometown (which happens to be where the Irawaddy Dolphins are, and I regret that I didn’t have enough time to go up there and see them for myself). As much as he wanted to tell us about where he came from, he wanted to know about America. His questions made him all the more endearing. He wanted to know what kind of animals we had—specifically, if elephants and tigers roam in the wild. I have never met anyone that truly didn’t know much about my country, so it was fun to tell him about it.

He also asked me a question that I still think about. “Is it easy to live in your country?” How do you answer that? My initial reaction was to say no. Of course it’s not easy to live in my country. It’s not easy to live anywhere. But then, as I thought about the reasons why it’s not easy to live in my country, they all revolve around it being a wealthy nation. Our problems are problems of wealth. It’s expensive. It’s a pain in the ass to get health insurance if you don’t work for a company that provides it, and even when you do have it, you have to pay an arm and a leg to get anything done. The US is huge, so if you move away from your family, you have to put money, time, and effort into seeing them. If you live in a place like San Francisco, you probably can’t afford to buy property if you’re making the median income. We have crime. We have drugs. We have racism and sexism. We have a huge homeless population (and members of that population might answer this question differently than me). We have a public school system that could definitely use improvement…if only we could afford it. Hell, we have enemies that want all of us to be blown to oblivion. We have problems. But as I started to answer his question with my cries of woe, I looked at him, and I realized that my problems weren’t as bad as the ones he probably faces. I flew halfway across the world to go on vacation for two months because I was bored and unemployed, and he probably can’t afford to travel the eight hours by bus to see his family on a regular basis. I am able to support myself, and I haven’t worked in months. My half of our $20 meal would have taken him two days of work to buy. Just for the sake of comparison, I’m not in the habit of spending the equivalent (let’s say $200 a meal) on my own dinners on a nightly basis when I’m at home (I’m not saying I haven’t…but it isn’t something I do with any regularity…or when it isn’t being paid for by an expense account). I don’t fear my government. I may not always agree with them, but I have no reason to believe that they might kill me and everyone I know. I don’t have a fear of anyone taking away my life, my livelihood, my everything. And that’s why I answered, yes. Yes, it is easy to live in my country. We have our problems, but I am very lucky to have been born in America because I have so many opportunities at my feet.

We bid our waiter friend adieu and took a walk around the waterfront. The park was filled with families spending the evening together, picnicking, playing games, and just enjoying one another’s company. I felt completely safe, and I appreciated how tightly knit the families and neighbors seemed to be. I can only imagine that it is partly a reaction to all of the horrors they faced during Pol Pot’s reign when whole families were slaughtered. The median age in Cambodia is something like 27, and it’s not because people had a bunch of babies 27 years ago. It’s because the government killed one-third of the population. That kind of terror must live on for generations, and I really think the Cambodians appreciate what they do have as they re-build their country.

I must say that I was totally blown away by Phnom Penh. Everything about is beguiling from the juxtaposition of crumbling buildings and luxury vehicles to the resilience of the people and their seemingly happy demeanor despite the obvious struggles they face. Here I thought I was going to walk into a war zone, filled with chaos and fear, but I went to a place that is unlike any other. Sure it’s rundown, but the feeling you get from the city itself and people who live here makes it well worth the visit.