My Summer in Cambodia

On August 1, I made the 8-hour journey from Phnom Penh to the Cardamom Protected Forest and I puked.

The Cardamoms are the last best pristine wilderness remaining in Southeast Asia. Until 1998, the region was the last stronghold for Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge, making access all but impossible. After the regime fell Cambodians began to move into the Cardamoms to make a living logging and hunting.

The 1 million hectare Cardamom Protected Forest is home to many endangered species such as: Asian elephants, Indochinese tigers, Maylayan sun bears, pileated gibbons, humpback dolphins and the last remaining siamese crocodiles.

Until 2002, the Cardamoms were slated for logging when Prime Minister Hun Sen signed a law designating the region a protected forest. Regardless, poaching and illegal logging remain a threat.

I went to the Cardamoms with the first group of ecotourists to visit the remote village of Chi Pat. The first four hours of the trip was in an air-conditioned bus. The last leg was a sticky three hours on a fully loaded cargo boat.

Chi Pat is on the Prek Piphot river and consists of a muddy dirt road, a couple of restaurants, several cigarette vendors, four guesthouses, no electricity or running water and way too many orphans.

A villager told me that they hope tourism revenue will help them build and orphanage. When asked why they have so many orphans, her response — malaria.

After eating a meal of bland traditional Khmer food that consisted of vegetables and rice, I went to bed. By 1 a.m., I was retching in the bathroom.

Since I was part of the group of ecotourists, I had signed up for a 44-kilometer mountain bike ride through the jungle to visit a bat cave and ancient coffins and burial jars. I couldn’t hold any water and didn’t go.

I spent my afternoon laying under a mosquito net and occasionally walking through the village. Eventually I had enough energy to make the 30-minute hike to a nearby mountain. It was beautiful and I left the next morning.

I was attacked by a snake while visiting Angkor Wat for the first time today.

I’m quite certain that the snake was trying to kill me. I was just sitting a table eating my fried rice with chicken and basil, trying get rid of some kids selling books, postcards and shirts when an old Khmer lady pointed under my table and shouted: “Sir! Sir! Snake!”

My primal fear of snakes kicked in and I jumped up, grabbed my camera and ran to a group of Cambodians that had formed to watch the snake.

The old woman who alerted me to the danger, whacked the snake with a broom and it slithered into a hole in the ground.

Certain the snake was still waiting for it’s chance to strike again, I moved my food to the end of the table, ate fast and left.

Angkor Wat was magnificent. Photos will be coming soon.

It’s time to talk about food. Without a doubt, eating in Cambodia has been the biggest surprise. Before arriving in Phnom Penh, I had resided myself to the prospect of not enjoying most of my meals, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Aside from one or two occasions, I’ve enjoyed every dinner, lunch and breakfast (I still haven’t figured out what Cambodians eat for breakfast, I generally get a croissant or some pho).

In Phnom Penh, there is a wide range of eating options from Italian, German, French to Thai, Chinese and obviously Khmer.

My favorite dish is fried ginger chicken at V.I.P. Yum. I also recommend the pasta at Pop Cafe and the rad na at Boat Noodle. Cambodian bbq was great, but it did make me a bit sick the next day.

What I don’t like about eating in Cambodia are the rats. It turns my stomach when I’m eating and I see a rat scurry across the dining room floor. Granted when this has happened, I was in an outdoor seating area, but it’s still makes me gag.

Rats or not, the food here has been nothing short of amazing, it usually costs less $4, and the service, is always wonderful.

The Sam Rainsy Party launched its campaign this morning. One block away from my new apartment in Phnom Penh, a couple of thousand SRP supporters wearing white shirts rode around the city waving blue flags. The SRP faithful piled into blue trucks, and with music blaring through loudspeakers, in a parade-like procession the opposition party supporters made their way to a nearby site commemorating the victims of a grenade attack at a Sam Rainsy rally in 1997.

Today was the first day of the month-long political season in Cambodia. Compared to the United States’ political campaigning, it’s a much different process. In Cambodia, the campaign season only lasts one month; voting is scheduled for July 27.

Considering its history of violence and corruption, the UN, and more than 50 non-governmental organizations either have or will deploy hundreds of election monitors across Cambodia to see just how free and fair these this year’s campaigning, voting and ballot counting will be. Cambodia’s National Election Committee plans to have almost 14,000 people keeping an eye on the election.

The current prime minister, Hun Sen, is up for re-election but has said he will not speak publicly during the month-long campaign. His party, the Cambodia Peoples Party, is expected to win by a landslide.

Phnom Penh is a loud city. Cambodia’s capital in some ways resembles every urban metropolis, there’s the general clamber, clatter and chatter, like everywhere else, but while New York City has cabbies blowing their horns, in Phnom Penh nearly all of the racket comes from the horde of scooters that swarm the city, tooting their horns from early morning to late at night.

For the approximately 1.2 million Cambodians who live in Phnom Penh, traveling on two wheels is really the only option. While there are some multiple lane roads such as Mao Tse Toung, Monivong, Norodom, Sothearos and Sihanouk, sport utility vehicles, or even compact cars, are impractical.

Driving a scooter in Phnom Penh requires skill and patience. People drive down the wrong side of the road. There are no pedestrian crossings, and stop signs were installed for decoration.

To cross the jam-packed streets, you have to just walk out into traffic and meander your way through the throng of scooters.

It’s not as dangerous as it seems because Cambodian scooter drivers are expecting people to walk into the street and they aren’t at all surprised to see someone drive down the wrong side of the road. And they’re only going about 10 or 15 miles an hour.

When it comes to driving, I don’t think they have a notion of “cutting someone off.” If they do, it doesn’t bother them. I’ve yet to see a Cambodian lose his or her temper while driving through this hornet’s nest of scooters, bicyclists, pedestrians and the occasional sport utility vehicle, work truck or compact sedan.

Basically, everyone in the city just weaves their way from the crowded streets any way they can.

How do I do it? “Tuk tuk, sir?”