Killing in the Name Of

A cliché tattoo of a maple leaf, a flag sewn on my backpack and my obsession with hockey are manifestations of the patriotism I feel towards my home and native land. I had already decided it was the greatest place on the planet to live, even before I had visited other countries. My travels have now taken me to over 20 countries (roughly 10% of all that exist). Some countries have amazing natural beauty, some have long and storied histories and others have magnificent ancient structures, but none are the total package that is Canada. The World Wars occurred during the lifetime of my grandparents but never crossed the Atlantic to put our soil in danger. At no point in my life time have I ever felt scared or in danger. A peaceful and ever increasingly multicultural nation, but Canada is not perfect. The mistreatment of our Native people, the internment of the Japanese and the constant battle between the French and English are just some of the blemishes on the skin of the Nation. Today I visited one of the Killing Fields just outside Phnom Penh and it further cemented my appreciation for the fact I was born in Canada. I have never seen anything like it. The atrocities the Cambodian people suffered at the hands of their fellow countrymen are so disgusting they seem unreal. In a period of 4 years an estimated 3,000,000 Cambodians were executed by the Khmer Rouge. You can read about these events in textbooks but until you see the mass graves (that still produce bone fragments and teeth during the rainy season over 30 years later) and the large monument filled with thousands of skulls it doesn’t really hit home. I spent over two hours walking around the site listening to the audio tour and viewing the photo exhibits. I can’t remember ever visiting somewhere and being so emotionally impacted. It scares me what humans are capable of when they turn on each other, and what went on right under the noses of the rest of the world. It is so important that we learn from these events so that it can be avoided in the future. The moment it truly hit me was when I was inside the monument and getting an up close viewing of the skulls and bones. The skulls are divided into scientific categories by sex and age. When I came to the side that contained the adult males aged 20-40 I couldn’t help but feel lucky. If I had been born a few years earlier and on the other side of the world I could have been a skull on that shelf instead of sitting here writing about it. Oh Canada, I stand on guard for thee.

Wild Orchid

During an earlier walk along the water to Otres beach I discovered a small bar in the middle of nothing in particular. Little did I know when I walked by there the first time that the Blue Orchid bar would play a major role during my stay in Sihanoukville. My favorite Beach Road staff member worked during the late afternoon and into the evening, the other Estonians were usually sleeping off a hangover or off sailing and several friends from my first trip to town had gone home. For all of those reasons I had time to myself. A lot of my spare time was spent enjoying the amazing view, comfortable chairs and hospitality of the staff. The couple working the bar have been traveling the world selling jewelry and picking up odd jobs for almost 5 years now. All those experiences equipped them with many stories to tell. My favorite evening at the Orchid happened when they handed over control of the iPod to yours truly. It became obvious after only a handful of songs that barman Adam and I grew up on many of the same bands. It became a tribute to the rock of the early to mid 90s that featured several enthusiastic air guitar sessions and was highlighted by a top of the lungs version of Bad Habit by the Offspring. Silverchair, Nirvana and Smashing Pumpkins rocked the little bar until Adam’s co-worker and girlfriend, Mouette, was sick of us old guys and our “classic” rock. She switched the tunes to Spice Girls and other awful late 90s pop. I guess that was my cue to leave. Many fun evenings were spent at the Orchid which cemented a place in my traveling hall of fame for the lovely couple.

As March drew to a close so did my 30^th year of existence. After celebrating my first 30 birthdays in Canada with friends and family this one was spent 13,000 KMs away. The massive week long birthday celebration of last year would be followed up this year with a much smaller gathering. My Sihanoukville best friends Sandra, Adam and Mouette did their best to make me feel at home. I started off the day feeling a bit down knowing that I wouldn’t be seeing the regular cast of characters of years gone by, but that soon faded as my new family took excellent care of me. Its becoming clearer with every stop on my journey that a physical location is only as good as the people you are with. I guess it was lucky that I managed to meet such wonderful people in such a fantastic place. Thank you Sihanoukville for making my 31^st bday one to remember.

Come as You Are

The second leg of my world travels started with another visit to the beach/port town of Sihanoukville in Cambodia. It was my second time there, but this time around was much more eventful and I got to know the city a lot better. I was only there for a few days the last time around and those days were spent in a 4 block radius between the beach, the parties and my hotel. The two greatest contributors to exploring the city properly were renting a moto and the list of sights to see/things to do that was provided to me by Cambodia’s best tour guide. Having the moto gave me the flexibility to finally leave the area around my hotel without relying on the tuk tuk drivers. For the cost of $4/day and about $1.50/day in fuel I had ultimate freedom. When was the last time $5.50 a day bought you freedom?

Lonely Planet and the other guide books seem to concentrate the backpacking world on certain hotels, restaurants and attractions but many of the best times I’ve had so far have come on the advice of locals. The beach parties I experienced the first time around were dominated by travelers and were quite different from my first time at a bar for locals. It was a much friendlier atmosphere than any nightclubs back home. Everyone dances together and are more interested in having fun rather than showing off their fancy clothes and hitting on the opposite sex. At home its common to see a group of girls dancing around their purses but rare to see a group of guys dancing on their own (even more so dancing around a pile of wallets). At LV (the name of the club) there were just as many groups of guys dancing together as girls, as well as mixed groups. The music and the dance moves at the beginning of the night were not unlike what I’m used to, but then things changed…In the middle of the evening the DJs stopped , people cleared the dance floor and several singers performed Cambodian pop songs. It was interesting to see this at a night club, but Ill have to be honest and admit that I do not care for the Khmer tunes. All the popular songs are slow and quite depressing. The music videos seem to all feature people breaking up or dying. I’m not sure why this is, but there seems to be an opportunity for a happy and uplifting band to come in and brighten up MTV Cambodia. After the session of glorified karaoke came my favorite portion of the night. It was a modern version of traditional Cambodian dancing. Everyone on the dance floor moves together in a slow clockwise direction and the majority of the dance moves are done only using your hands and arms. It kind of reminded me of my Mom’s attempt to dance in the car during our family vacations on long drives. The locals were happy to see us foreigners trying out their moves and they were more than happy to give us some tips.

No Shoes No Shirt No Problem

Reynolds Abroad has a much greater reach and political influence than I could have ever imagined. Mere days after I suggested Canada should eliminate the penny Finance Minister Flaherty announced they will cease production of our little copper (and nickel) friend. I guess I will have to be careful what I write next so I don’t mess with Canadian culture too much while I’m away. If anyone has any issues they’d like me to bring up with our government feel free to pass them along and I’ll see what I can do.

How much regulation is too much? After a life time in Canada and a couple visits to Cambodia I believe the answer lies somewhere between the ways of both worlds. At home we can’t even cross the street without the long arm of the law slapping us if we do it wrong (yes I’m referring to my jaywalking fine of $121). Traffic lights are optional, seat belts don’t exist and if you can somehow hang on to a motorized vehicle long enough to get where you want to go, then so be it. There are a few curious exceptions. The police will set up random check points similar to our drinking and driving road blocks but the fines they give out aren’t for the violations you would expect. It is illegal to drive during the day time with your light on, but there is no fine for driving at night with it off??? Turning right on a red light will also lighten your wallet, but blasting straight through the same light likely won’t. Driving without a Cambodian license will cost you $1-$5 depending on your negotiation skills. The list of strange fines and allowed practices would go on forever. The lack of rules also applies to other things that are tightly regulated in North America. I can’t imagine many of the restaurants and shops would come close to passing the strict health codes of more developed nations. There doesn’t appear to be an age limit for purchasing and consuming cigarettes and alcohol, although I’m sure officially it is written somewhere. Try walking directly from Kits beach into Vera’s burgers and ordering food in just your shorts and you will be turned away. In Cambodia you are lucky if the chef is wearing a shirt and isn’t smoking while preparing your meal. And now for the most ridiculous law in Canada (there is probably more absurd laws, but this one really annoys me)…No consumption of alcohol in public areas. We already have laws against being intoxicated in public and others against mischievous behaviour so why is it so awful to have a beer on the beach? I understand glass on the beach is a bad idea, so why not ban glass bottles and allow us a delicious cold beverage out of a can or plastic container. Cambodia does appear to need some adult supervision and at home in Canada it would be great if big brother would get off our backs, at least a little bit.

One Week

A full week has come and gone since I arrived in Cambodia and this post is about the things I have seen and done since then (in no particular order). This blog is a bit confused as to its identity. Am I writing about the things I’ve done, the experiences I’ve had, the thoughts that go through my head or some hybrid of them all? Only once I return home will the answer become obvious. I have a feeling this post will just be a collection of observations with a few experiences tossed in…shall we begin?

I will begin with a few observations. The construction of Cambodian homes seems to be in a different arrangement from those in the Western world. The garage is usually located directly under the house, that is if it is a garage and not some kind of retail outlet. It appears as though most city dwellers are hawking something out of their home, the most dominant of which seems to be Pringles. The mighty P&G machine has somehow managed to place their potato chips in every corner of the globe. I guess I should have bought more of that stock. My next observation is that these retail stores are upside down versus their NA counterparts. The merchandise is often hanging from the roof instead of on neatly organized shelves. Maybe this is because a large portion of Cambodia floods and floor bound merchandise is doomed, or because people are too lazy to bend over or some other reason I have failed to contemplate. Observation #3 comes from the pricing and currency exchange that takes place across the country. This is a lesson that North America can learn from. All prices are as posted (no added taxes) and are very convenient in nature. You never buy a beer for $1.67 (after tax). The price of $1 dollar is quite popular and makes using the unimaginative unicolour Amercian currency quite easy. Canada could definitely do without the penny and most likely the nickel as well. It could be even taken to extremes and include the elimination of the dime. Would paying $1.25 for something instead of $1.13 really make a difference to anyone? We already have coins for $1 and $2 so we could help eliminate holes in our jeans from carrying masses of coins and cutting back on our monetary shrapnel.
That’s enough on the observation side of things so now it’s time for an experience or two. After spending two years working in the beer industry it may seem as almost a sin to put ice in your beer, but here in the land of minimal refrigeration and 30+ degrees it is a necessity. It transforms already extremely light beer into the anorexic cousin of Bud light. I guess it’s a battle of two evils and it’s a personal choice as to which is worse: warm beer or light/watery beer? The good news is that a pint costs you 50-75 cents so watering it down a bit hurts a lot less than when forking out $6 for one back home. One of the qualities of a well written article is finishing strong. I will attempt to do that by describing the most truly Cambodian experience of my first week back. Chaos! That is the first word that comes to mind when thinking about my experience as a rookie moto driver across Sihanoukville. When you jump on a moto (motorbike for those who haven’t been subjected to SE Asian accents and lingo) you must first take everything you’ve learned as a North American driver and toss it out the window. You can no longer expect and predict behaviour of the other motorists. Checking blind spots behind you becomes obsolete, and it truly is every (wo)man for themselves. You become responsible only for the things in front of you and are expected to act accordingly. Cars, busses and motos are often driving the wrong way in your lane. You can be passed on the left or right, and at any time. Solid yellow lines and traffic lights blur into mere suggestions. There seems to be a constant game of how many family members you can transport at once on a moto or how many factory workers you can cram into a 1980s Toyota minivan being played. Everytime I get on a moto I see something new that shocks me and makes me feel very Canadian (read as safe and regulated). Its now time for me to pack-up my computer and enter the craziness en route back to my hotel. I’m going to tie my personal best of one pasty white Canadian on my moto at once. Tomorrow I hope to get to the beach in time to help that pasty Canadian darken up a bit.

Should I Stay or Should I Go

The last couple of weeks in Vancouver were spent trying to catch up with as many of my friends and family as possible. One of the friends I met up with several times was the karaoke addict known as Yosh.  During our multiple sing alongs  I developed a “go to” song that I performed several  times. The song was Should I Stay or Should I Go by the Clash. At the time it was just a song, but looking back the title reflects exactly how I was feeling. The excitement of leaving Canada’s rainy and gray west coast for the beaches of SE Asia and Australia mounted each time Wayne Cox (in his ugly Hawaiian shirts) forecasted another day of typical Van City winter weather. Another factor adding to the excitement of going away again was that I never felt like I was ready to be home and settled. A constant sense of restlessness was always present. The day time was particularly difficult as the majority of my friends were at work making progress up the corporate ladder as I sat at home catching up on several seasons of Dexter. The list of pros for traveling the world is definitely a long one but there is one big con that gets me every time; leaving friends and family behind. My last trip was just shy of four months (104 days to be exact) and featured an expiration date. A return flight that was purchased well before the trip even began. From the first day I set foot in Helsinki I could always look at a calendar and know exactly how long it would be until I got to see everyone again, a comfort I don’t have on this journey. My departure date crept up on me slowly and as it did a feeling of uneasiness grew. I did my best to spend as much time as I could with those most important to me but that didn’t make my pending departure any easier. In fact, it may have made things more difficult as it magnified how much I would miss them. I’ve never been one to deal well with emotions so this round of goodbyes was particularly difficult. Tears were shed. Memories will be made and great experiences will be had as I travel the world, but my heart will remain with those I love back home. Until we meet again…