Saturday, October 27, 2007

Cambodia - Day 3

Michael and I woke up at 4:30AM to see the sunrise over Angkor Wat. It took about 30 minutes to get to Ankgor Wat and by the time we got there it looked like we would miss the sunset entirely. We didn’t, and even if we had it wouldn’t have mattered, it was too cloudy. I know I’ve seen aerial photos of Angkor Wat before but when I looked at it in person for the first time I must have forgotten about them. My first thought was, “What? Angkor Wat is really small”. There is a large stone walkway that goes over a huge moat and leads up to the front of the temple which, as I soon found out, is just the front gate.

Once inside the front gate you are greeted with the inner temple area several hundred yards away. The sun wasn’t quite up yet, though by now Mike and I realized there were too many clouds for a beautiful sunrise. From the outer temple area it is a five minute walk or so to the inner area. The inner area of the temple is a confusing maze of stone doorways, halls, towers, and stairs. Some of you will have no idea what I mean by this, I know my brothers will understand, but Angkor Wat reminded me of the computer game Quake 1. I kept thinking of that game as I walked around the temple. With the sun struggling to come through the clouds there was an eerie gloom cast over everything, I had entered a world of strange shadows and dark corners.

From memory, Angkor Wat seems to have a layout as follows: Imagine a large rectangle with another smaller rectangle inside it, and a smaller one still inside that one, and yet a smaller one still. Each rectangle is raised above the previous one so that the inner ones have multiple levels, and the “lines” of the rectangles are long, dark walkways. In the inner sections of Angkor Wat there are large towers with extremely steep stairs leading to the very top of the towers. The stairs were roped off but there are signs inviting you to climb the stairs, as long as you were careful. Michael and I were confused by the conflicting information so we opted not to climb to the very top this time (but we did when we returned later that morning).

Walking through Angkor Wat, I quickly realized how huge it is. Walking on the Great Wall was impressive but you can’t get an idea of its size unless you walk the entire length or see it from space. You can walk through Angkor Wat in an hour or two, though a more careful inspection would take all day. For that reason I think Angkor Wat is the most amazing thing humans have ever constructed (I even think it surpasses the pyramids, we’ll see if I still think so after I visit them). The moat around Angkor Wat, which is 190 meters wide and over 2 miles long, is an amazing feat of construction. Using today’s equipment it would probably still take a year to dig it, back when it was constructed they had nothing more than shovels.

The one thing that makes Angkor Wat so stunning is the amount of stone blocks that were used to construct it. Everything in sight is comprised of carefully cut stone blocks. Even more amazing are the amount of stone carvings of Hindu deities and other aspects of Hindu mythology. The entire temple itself is supposed to be representation of Mount Meru, the mountain of the gods in Hindu mythology. The outer enclosure of the temple contains what is reputedly the largest bas-relief scenes ever carved, depicting scenes from the Hindu epic the Ramayana. It wraps around the entire outer part of the temple making it slightly shorter than the moat I mentioned previously.

As the sun came up I noticed mist rolling in from the jungle, slowly engulfing the trees that surrounded the outer wall of the temple. In the inner areas of the temple there were fewer tourists and it was silent except for the chirping of birds in the distance and the sound of chants from a nearby Buddhist monastery. I noticed that the grass in between the inner and outer sections of the temple was wet with dew. The eerie sensation was slowly lifting as the sun started to illuminate the darker corners and crevices of the temple. The pictures I had taken when it was darker did not come out well so I took the opportunity to record some video and get some better pictures (I ended up taking hundreds of pictures).

After wandering around Angkor Wat for an hour or so Michael and I walked through the back entrance and followed a dirt path that looped back around to the front. Two girls from Semester At Sea were walking a short distance behind us and as we got closer to what looked like a small village a bunch of children ran up to us and tried to sell us bracelets. When Mike or I refused on the grounds that we didn’t have any money they asked, “What about your girlfriend, ask her for money” which was funny since we didn’t even know who the girls were (later they suddenly became our wives). One of the orphans, a little girl, asked me where I was from and I replied with “far away.” In the markets in China the vendors will ask you what country you are from so they know what currency to quote prices in, I assumed this was the same reason the little girl was asking so I thought I would be a smart ass this time. She misunderstood me though and responded by saying, “Norway, capital is Oslo” and then proceeded to tell me the population. I was impressed but I still didn’t want to buy any of her bracelets.

The orphans were cute and they spoke good English but they got annoying quickly. We had to get out of there fast so I made some empty promises to come back later and buy some bracelets (in fact we were coming back later in the afternoon, and though I wasn’t planning on buying bracelets I eventually did). Mike and I walked back across the long walkway leading to the outer gate and met up with our tour guide who was sitting near the moat. We talked about the temple a bit and then watched a monkey walking along the wall next to the moat. We made our way back to the bus, got harassed by more orphans, and then watched as the other SAS kids got conned into buying bracelets and postcards from the orphans.

Back at the hotel we got showered, had breakfast, and then joined the rest of our group to go visit another temple, Ta Prohm. I had no idea what to expect with Ta Prohm, and frankly I was doubtful that it would be much to see after Angkor Wat. However, I was proven wrong once again and at this point I gave up trying to second-guess Cambodian temples. As our group walked on a path through the jungle to get to the temple we noticed a group of people playing traditional Cambodian music. Most of us ignored them but some of us noticed the sign that explained that they were land-mine victims who play traditional Cambodian music for money rather than resorting to begging (Cambodia has the highest per-capita rate of amputees in the world). I recorded a video of the music because it sounded amazing and on the way back I gave them some money because they definitely deserved it.

Ta Prohm, as I soon found out, was special because the builders planted trees on the top of it in many places. Over 800 years later the trees were huge and the roots snaked down all over the temple to reach the ground. Ta Prohm has only recently been undergoing restoration so unlike Angkor Wat it was a mess. The roots of the trees that are planted on top of the temple act as supports and without them the entire thing would have collapsed long ago. There were piles of stone blocks everywhere and the entire temple was a strange green color due to the moss that had covered the stone and never been cleaned. More than Angkor Wat, Ta Prohm made me feel like I was in the middle of an alien archaeological site on another planet. Partly because it was falling down and partly because it seemed more compressed Ta Prohm really felt like a maze, so much so that our group got split up numerous times and we even lost our guide at one point.

Though Ta Prohm is considerably smaller than Angkor Wat it still took us a good 45 minutes to walk through it and we were being rushed by the tour guide because we had more temples to visit. On the way back I gave a few dollars to the amputee musicians and bought an erhu (a two-stringed bowed instrument) for $15 from a vendor. Unfortunately, erhus aren’t nearly as easy to play as the guy selling them made it look. To make matters worse one of the strings broke when I was going through customs back in Saigon. When I play it, it sounds like a dying animal which might come in handy some time, who knows.

Our next stop was Angkor Wat – again. For most of our group this was their first time seeing Angkor Wat. Though it was later in the day there weren’t as many tourists as I expected. This time we went through the east gate, which is in the back. Mike and I noticed some people climbing up the steep stairs to the very top of the towers in the center of Angkor Wat so we decided to climb them this time too. We got to the top only to have someone from SAS tell us that security guards were coming so we should get down. Since we didn’t feel like being kicked out of Angkor Wat we climbed down, but no security guards ever came. Michael and I walked around getting pictures of Mr. Carrot (a stuffed carrot that Mike has had for over 10 years now) in strange places, such as on top of a decapitated Buddha statue.

Since we both had to use the bathroom really badly (and we didn’t feel like peeing in Angkor Wat again which we both did on the first trip) we walked around following signs pointing us to the toilets. Unfortunately the signs led directly to the orphans. Now that it was midday we could see that it was not a village but a monastery. At some point we had learned from our tour guide that all Cambodian children receive free education and the orphans are taught English and other subjects by the Buddhist monks in the monasteries.

As we were wandering around near the monastery, debating whether we were allowed to go inside, a little girl walked up to us and began telling us about “our friend over there in the red shirt”. Indeed, there was a girl in a red shirt a short distance away, but she wasn’t our friend. We eventually found out that this girl, from SAS, had spent the past hour talking to one of the orphan girls. The little girl took her into the monastery, taught her how to pray, and introduced her to her teacher. She also wrote a letter to her that was so funny. It had a flower on it and said things like, “I’m sorry to bother you, you have a nice smile; I hope you enjoy Angkor Wat” and so on.

At some point other orphans joined us and though we didn’t recognize them two of the girls remembered us, “I remember you from before! You promised to come back and buy bracelets!” Remembering that I had promised them, I bought ten bracelets for a dollar. If anyone wants some Cambodian orphan bracelets let me know when I get back. The other little girls started bothering Michael, asking him if he wanted bracelets and when he said no they just asked for a dollar. He agreed to give both of them a dollar if they would let him take their picture. After the picture he gave them each a dollar and one of the girls gave him a personalized note with random things written in English.

Suddenly a bunch of other orphans came running and things started to get ugly. This one little boy wasn’t very happy about the situation and kept demanding a dollar saying, “You are a boy, why do you give a dollar to the girl but not to me?” He repeated that over and over, getting increasingly angry. A girl with him who was alternating between being on the verge of tears and being extremely angry kept asking Mike, “What about me? What about me?” We started to walk away from the monastery, but the two orphans followed closely. They kept repeating, “You give money to a girl but not a boy”, “what about me?” At one point Mike kept apologizing to the boy and he had had enough apologies because he said, “I don’t want your sorries, I want your dollars!” which made us both collapse into laughter.

Around this time we ran into a few other girls from SAS who were amazed to see two SAS guys being trailed by the angriest orphans they ever saw. I believe one of them took a few photographs of the occasion. Finally the orphans turned around and walked away but not before sounding like a broken record. We made it back to the buses where I snapped some pictures of some SAS girls being mobbed by orphans. At one point I heard an orphan yell, “You are from America you must buy a postcard!” In another instance one of the kids getting back on the bus responded to an orphan’s frantic attempts at selling postcards by asking him for a dollar to which the orphan responded, “OK, I give you one dollar and you buy postcards for two dollars”.

After lunch, we visited several places including Angkor Thom, Bayon temple, and Baphuon temple which also included the elephant terrace. We didn’t really see much of Angkor Thom, it is the ancient Khmer capital, but we passed through it on our way to Bayon temple. The outer parts of Bayon temple were in an even greater state of disrepair than Ta Prohm. There were several parts that just consisted of stone doorways and random stone pillars in the middle of nothing, all of the other stone had collapsed and been pushed into 20 foot tall piles in a corner. Possibly because much of it had collapsed Bayon temple felt more spacious.

As Michael and I were walking around the upper-level of the innermost part of Bayon temple we came upon an embarrassing scene involving an SAS student who decided to climb to the domed top of the main tower. Considering that the temple was falling apart you’d think he would have noticed and decided that climbing around a collapsing temple was a bad idea. It took a tour guide from another group yelling, “You! You crazy man, get down!” to get him to come down. A crowd began to form and security guards came over. As he began to climb down I started to walk away, I didn’t feel like seeing an SAS student fall to his death in Cambodia. There were two guys with professional-looking video cameras nearby; I hope they got that on film for their documentary or whatever they were filming.

After we left Bayon temple we wandered around, with some others from SAS, absolutely confused because our tour guide had given us multiple conflicting instructions about where and when we should all meet to go back to the buses. Michael and I walked on the elephant terrace which was just a large stone terrace with elephant head carvings. We found the Baphuon temple but we didn’t go in because we didn’t think we had enough time. Instead we waited in the searing heat for our tour guide and the rest of our group. After everyone was together we went back to the buses and then drove to the airport for our flight back to Saigon.

I really liked Cambodia, the temples are the most amazing things I have ever seen or probably will ever see. Considering all the destruction that Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge unleashed on Cambodia I’m grateful that they left the temples alone for the most part (the heads and arms of many of the statues were removed, that’s about it). Though Cambodia is still incredibly poor and their government is incredibly corrupt (ranked as one of the most corrupt in the world) they have a wonderful cultural heritage that is sure to continue to attract tourists from all over the world.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Cambodia - Days 1 and 2

Though I was very excited to see Cambodia I was also saddened to leave Vietnam. I really wish I had had more time to explore Vietnam. Nonetheless, I was very much looking forward to seeing Angkor Wat. Our flight to Phnom Penh (pronounced pa-nom pen) was uneventful and by now I was getting used to the idea of flying in foreign countries where air-safety regulations may be more lax. During the first few flights in China there was that persistent fear that the plane might fall apart in mid-air. As the plane descended through the clouds on its way to land in Phnom Penh I looked out my window and all I could see was muddy water everywhere. The entire Earth looked as if it was covered in watery reddish-brown mud, dotted with occasional islands of green. It was an eerie sight made all the more disturbing by the fact that the plane began to land when there was no airport in sight. As I would find out later, Phnom Penh is situated at the confluence of three rivers, the Tonle Sap, Bassac, and Mekong, which become engorged with water during the rainy season.

The airport in Phnom Penh was the first really small airport we’d visited in Asia. The airports in Beijing, Xi’an, Saigon, and Bangkok were huge, sleek international airports that were much nicer than most of the airports I’ve seen in the U.S. The airport in Phnom Penh was a single tiny terminal with doors that led directly onto the tarmac. In order to get to and from the airport you take a shuttle bus (which was the standard practice even in the large airports in China). Once inside the terminal our group spent several minutes in confusion as our trip leader gave us instructions about getting through immigration that conflicted with the instructions from the immigration officials themselves. It took a while but finally we all got through customs, got onto buses and went to our hotel in downtown Phnom Penh.

Phnom Penh isn’t a usual city. It doesn’t have any large buildings or a financial center or anything like that. In the very center of the city is a large man-made hill with a Buddhist Stupa on it for which the city is named (Phnom Penh means “Penh’s hill” in Khmer, the language of Cambodia). In the early 1970’s during the reign of the Khmer Rouge (the Maoist revolutionaries led by Pol Pot who took over the government of Cambodia) the entire population of Phnom Penh, several million people, was evacuated from the city and forced to live in the countryside. The Khmer Rouge told the people that there was going to be imminent bombings by the U.S. military so the city had to be evacuated immediately. In fact it was part of Pol Pot’s plan to start an agrarian revolution in which everyone was a peasant working on collective farms and living in communes where everyone was equal. For several years the city was abandoned, and I don’t think it totally recovered (nor did the economy) which partly explains why the center of the city is dominated by a large hill rather than large buildings and other things that are typical of a nation’s capital.

After checking into the hotel we had some time to rest before we had to meet at the buses for a boat ride on one of the three rivers in Phnom Penh. Right as the boats were pulling away from the dock it began to pour, which made the trip down the river a lot less interesting than it could have been. There was one highlight however. There was a small floating village on one side of the river that housed around 28 people (the population used to be significantly larger). Through the rain I could see tiny shacks with people sitting underneath awnings made of tarpaulin. Here were people living in cramped quarters without electricity, proper sanitation or clean water smiling and waving at us and they looked generally delighted to see us. The heavy rains made it difficult to enjoy the scenery of the river so the trip was cut short and we all headed to a restaurant for dinner. I don’t remember what I ate though I do remember being disappointed because the buffet seemed to be comprised of Chinese and Vietnamese food. I don’t recall ever eating native Cambodian cuisine the entire time I was there. After dinner I went to bed with the reminder that tomorrow we would be visiting the genocide museum and the killing fields.

Our first stop in the morning was the genocide museum which is actually Tuol Sleng (also known as S-21 or Security Office 21) the prison that housed political dissidents and various people whose only crime was being educated. Tuol Sleng was originally a high school that was converted to a prison during the Khmer Rouge regime. It was surrounded by sheets of corrugated iron and electrified barbed wire fences so that prisoners could not escape. All of the children who had attended the school were imprisoned there first because educated people posed a threat to Pol Pot’s vision of a peasant revolution. Tuol Sleng held up to 1200 people at any one time in its four buildings that were meant to hold no more than a few hundred school children. Prisoners were shackled to the floor and routinely beaten and tortured. Many people were executed at Tuol Sleng, some 10,000 in all from 1975 to 1978 alone, and hundreds of thousands passed through it on their way to the killing fields.

The Cambodian government has preserved Tuol Sleng as it was when it was in use. In the bigger rooms of one building which used to hold classrooms there are rusting iron bed frames and plastic containers that the prisoners used as toilets. On the walls of many of these rooms are pictures of prisoners chained to the bed frame lying in pools of their own blood, thin and starving. The people that were told to make photographic documentation of the prison were former prisoners themselves. So, when the time came they took all of the pictures and hid them or turned them over to Vietnam when they invaded Cambodia so that the world would know what happened.

I walked from room to room feeling increasingly solemn and unnerved. It was a nice morning in Phnom Penh, the sun was shining, but there was an eerie silence throughout the prison. In the courtyard area in between the buildings there were two poles erected with another pole laid across them from which prisoners were hung upside down and electrocuted until they passed out. Then they were dunked headfirst into vats of sewage water until they woke up again and the process was repeated. In another school building there was a room sectioned off haphazardly with bricks into tiny cells. In other rooms there were boards with hundreds upon hundreds of pictures of people who had stayed, and probably died, in the prison. There were infants, children, women, men, and every one of them looked starved and close to death. In another building there were stories of Cambodians whose family members were sent to Tuol Sleng or disappeared mysteriously and were alleged to have been sent there. Every story ended in tragedy, it was heartbreaking.

In the West when we think of genocides we usually think of the Holocaust, which was certainly the worst. However, almost 2 million people, which at the time made up 25% of Cambodia’s population, were either executed or died of starvation during the reign of the Khmer Rouge. A further 2 million fled into neighboring countries. By the end of the horror Cambodia’s population had been reduced by half. As I walked through Tuol Sleng I kept wondering how anyone could do these terrible things to another person. It reminded me of Stanley Milgram’s famous psychology experiment that showed the influence authority has on people, but even the results of that experiment seemed inadequate in explaining all of the pain and suffering that was unleashed in Cambodia.

The social psychologist Stanley Milgram devised an experiment to answer the question of whether the Nazi war criminals who were responsible for the Holocaust could have committed those simply because they were following orders. In Milgrim’s experiment he tested how much pain an ordinary person would inflict upon another person simply because he was ordered to by an experimenter. The details of the experiment are complex and not important now, but the results were alarming. In many instances the subjects were willing to give several 450-volt shocks to the people they were punishing (in reality there were no real electrical shocks and the person being punished was an actor unbeknownst to the subjects of the experiment), which is enough to kill a person.

There was a related experiment performed in Stanford in 1971 in which undergraduate students were split up into two groups comprised of “prisoners” and “guards” (they were paid $15 a day to participate in the experiment). The experiment took place in a mock jail in the basement of the Psychology department building. Guards were given batons and a military-style uniform as well as sunglasses to prevent eye contact. The guards worked in shifts and could go home at the end of their shift. Disturbingly, on some occasions the guards chose to work extra shifts voluntarily without extra pay.

The participants who had been chosen as prisoners were told to wait in their homes to be contacted on the day the experiment began. Without any warning, they were "charged" with armed robbery and arrested by the actual police department, who cooperated in this part of the experiment. They went through actual booking procedures and were sent to the “prison”.

The guards had been told that they could do anything they wanted to the prisoners as long as it did not involve physical violence. Despite this rule, the experiment quickly became a mess. On the second day a riot broke out and the guards attacked the prisoners with fire extinguishers to quell the revolt. The prison became dirty and bathroom rights became privileges which were frequently revoked. Some prisoners were forced to clean toilets with bare hands. Mattresses were removed from the cell block and the prisoners forced to sleep naked on the concrete floor. The prisoners endured forced nudity and in some cases even sexual humiliation.

Even the lead researcher, Philip Zimbardo, who acted as the prison superintendent began to get engrossed in the experiment. When a rumor began circulating about a planned prison break Zimbardo called the local police department and tried to have the prisoners moved to a real jail since they were more secure. Today an experiment like this would be highly unethical and it is criticized to this day as being “unscientific”. The experiment was concluded after six days of a planned two week experiment. However, it was not stopped due to the objections of any prisoners. According to Zimbardo, the prisoners began to internalize their roles, that is, they sincerely believed that they were prisoners. At one point they were given the option of parole as long as they forfeited the pay they received from participation in the experiment. They all accepted that option, but when they were all denied parole they did not object. In the same way many of the guards began to exhibit truly sadistic behavior, and these were normal psychologically-balanced college students.

These two experiments, especially the latter, help to explain how people can do the things they did to others in Tuol Sleng but they don’t make the results of the genocide any easier to accept. It’s not that the people in the experiment had any inherent disposition towards sadistic and cruel behavior, just as many of the guards of Tuol Sleng did not, instead the situation and the surroundings were the cause of the behavior. Which isn’t to say that the Khmer Rouge should be exonerated, quite to the contrary, it’s a shame that the Cambodian government took so long to seek the United Nation’s help in setting up the genocide tribunal that is currently being organized (though not surprising given that Cambodia’s Prime Minister was once part of the Khmer Rouge).

After our sobering walk through Tuol Sleng we took a bus outside of the city to visit one of 334 killing fields where hundreds of thousands of Cambodians were executed. The centerpiece of the killing field was a stupa (a 6 or 7 tiered structure which houses the dead or religious relics of Buddhism) which housed hundreds of skulls stacked upon one another. The fields themselves were not much to look at, mainly pits marked with signs such as “Hundreds of decapitated heads were excavated from this hole”. There were fragments of clothing laying everywhere, half-submerged in mud, grim reminders of what the pits once held. Those who were taken to the killing fields did not have a merciful death. The Khmer Rouge did not believe that the lives they were taking were worth the price of the bullets so they used knives and serrated palm fronds to cut people’s throats.

Pol Pot, inspired by Maoism, envisioned a Cambodia free of the corrupting ideas of democracy and capitalism. In their place would be a peasant revolution where everyone held the same views and was equally (poorly) educated. To achieve this required, in Pol Pot’s words, “getting rid of the weeds by the roots”, namely getting rid of the Cambodian intellectuals. Those that didn’t flee the country were subjected to the “hand test” in which the Khmer Rouge checked citizen’s hands. Those that spent a life of doing manual labor would have calloused hands and would be spared, but those who did not perform such labor would have smooth hands, a sign of being educated, and they would be sent to one of the killing fields.

Of all of the chaos and suffering he caused in Cambodia Pol Pot would later say, “I want you to know that everything I did, I did for my country”. He went into hiding after the fall of the Khmer Rouge in the late 1970s and was never turned in to the authorities. No one was ever held accountable for the genocide, and as I mentioned before the current Prime Minister of Cambodia was once in the Khmer Rouge. I found it interesting that our tour guide explained to us that Pol Pot and the others did what they did because they were not real Cambodians themselves, ethnically they were Han Chinese and they introduced “poisonous Chinese ideas” into Cambodia. Our tour guide placed a lot of emphasis on the fact that the Chinese were essential responsible for the Cambodian genocide. I’m not sure whether or not that is true but the way that he kept saying it to us sounded strange, as strange as if a tour guide in the U.S. was to say that the South was responsible for the civil war when clearly, both sides bear equal responsibility.

Near the killing fields Michael, I, and some other kids from Semester At Sea had our first encounter with Cambodian orphans. They looked cute and when they offered to pose for pictures Michael and the other students accepted, only to find out that they had to pay the children for the privilege of taking their pictures. The children spoke good English because they were taught by Buddhist monks at the local monasteries. As we were leaving the killing fields several of the orphans stood nearby watching us get back on the bus, and I was able to take a picture without their noticing.

The rest of the day was far less interesting and depressing. After the killing fields we went to the “Russian market” in Phnom Penh, so-called not because Russians work there but because it is a place for foreigners to buy goods. Michael and I bought a stack of pirated DVDs and some t-shirts for $20 or so and afterwards everyone went to lunch at another restaurant that did not serve us Cambodian food. After lunch Michael and I went into a nearby supermarket (that was within a mall) which was a strange sight to see in Cambodia. Apparently we were an even stranger sight because we got quite a few stares from the regular customers. It’s been interesting to compare the different grocery and convenience stores in each country. Hong Kong had some of the nicest grocery stores with an interesting selection of food, but Cambodia was fun too.

When Michael and I went back to the bus I sat down and noticed some beggars outside of my window. I made the mistake of staring at this one woman who was holding a baby, and when she took notice of me she started pounding on the window. I turned my head to look away but could still hear her pounding on the window and repeating something in Khmer. It was heart-wrenching, and even really annoying, but there was nothing I could do. If I gave one beggar money they would all flock to me so the best thing was to ignore them, as difficult as that was. This is something everyone on SAS would have to grapple with in Cambodia (and especially in India).

After lunch we visited the Silver Pagoda and the Royal Palace. It was unbearably hot and humid (it eventually started raining and I forgot my raincoat on the bus) and I had to use the bathroom badly for a few hours so I don’t remember much about either of these sites. To make matters worse I forgot my camera on the bus too, so I do not have any pictures. The Silver Pagoda is a Buddhist shrine that is famous because it has a gold Buddha stature that is covered in diamonds, thousands of them. The floor of the pagoda is covered in silver tiles. Later we went to the National Museum and saw stone carvings and pottery from throughout Cambodia’s history. Our guide explained what some of the carvings in the stone blocks taken from temples like Angkor Wat meant, giving us a taste of what to expect once we flew to Siem Reap.

It was now time to fly to Siem Reap which is where Angkor Wat and the other temples are located. By the time we arrived it had already been a long day and unfortunately it was not quite over. After checking in to the hotel we all went to dinner and were treated to a “cultural show” which included traditional Cambodian dancing and music played by live musicians. It was really cool; especially the apsara dancing, a type of dancing that involves strange contortions of the hands (the dancers practice from early childhood to master apsara). The music was really amazing; the girl who sang most of the songs had a wonderful voice. After dinner we went back to the hotel and Michael and I went to bed quickly because we had volunteered to see the optional sunrise tour of Angkor Wat which meant that we had to wake up at 4:30 AM. Believe it or not, we actually woke up that early, and it was definitely worth it.

Friday, October 12, 2007

Vietnam - Days 1 and 2

In Saigon, Vietnam I ignored every piece of advice from my doctor and the medical staff on board the ship. I had drinks with ice cubes in them. I drank the local tap water. I ate uncooked vegetables… And it was all delicious. Michael and I woke up early today to watch us sail into Ho Chi Minh City (all the locals still call it Saigon, its name prior to the reunification of Vietnam). Saigon is not a coastal city; it sits on the Saigon River (not the Mekong river itself, the Saigon river feeds into the Mekong delta though) so our ship had to travel down it for a few hours to get to port. I was up early enough (though not as early as Mike) to see the endless expanse of jungle on either side of the muddy Saigon river broken by occasional villages and lone buildings. Fishermen were out in their little boats to catch the day’s livelihood and here I was in a huge lumbering behemoth, ruining all the quiet tranquility of an early morning on the river. I tried taking pictures but the humidity was so bad that the lens on my camera fogged up. It was not even 7 A.M.
Michael and I didn’t actually have any plans for Vietnam but our friend Hua was going to spend the day with family and he invited us to join him. After going through the usual procedures before disembarking the ship (mainly getting our passports) we met up with Hua’s Aunt and Uncle. They aren’t actually his Aunt and Uncle they are more distant relatives (in-laws of his Aunt back home in Los Angeles). Their family relation to him would normally be meaningless to us in the U.S. but in Vietnam, as in most of the world, Hua might as well have been their son. We had to communicate with his Aunt and Uncle mostly with gestures since they did not speak a single word of English. That didn’t stop his Aunt from talking to us in Vietnamese as if we understood it, and sometimes we did, if it was accompanied by the appropriate gestures.

We took a taxi to their house and were introduced to Hua’s cousin Quoc (pronounced like book but with a w instead of a b) who was in college and spoke some English. Eventually we were introduced to Quoc’s two younger sisters though I don’t remember their names. On the way across Saigon in a taxi I was struck by how the city was exactly as I pictured it. There were people wearing rice hats carrying bamboo poles with vegetables perched precariously on either end walking calmly through the barely controlled chaos of hundreds of people on motorbikes going every which way. Many of the buildings looked run-down and dusty but it had charm. In Beijing there was a strange juxtaposition of new and shiny office buildings with run-down lots and dirty streets that I found confusing. In Saigon everything just felt right.

Hua’s Aunt and Uncle had a nice house, and it was pretty evident that they were middle class and enjoyed a fairly comfortable existence. In their living room there was a nice Sony television, a DVD player, and a bizarre Buddha shrine with blinking LED lights. Hua’s family served some fruits which I had never seen before including longans, which are related to lychee fruit, and another fruit that had no English name (as far as anyone knew). They both tasted good but I am apparently allergic to one of them because after eating the fruit my throat felt itchy and started to swell up. It went away after 30 minutes or so and I don’t know what I would have done if it had not. We spent some time watching television (they even had HBO!) while we decided what to do.

With the decision made to go get some pho (traditional Vietnamese noodle soup) we went on our way…. on motorbikes. Michael and I rode on a bike with Hua’s uncle and Hua rode behind his cousin who, as we would find out later, had only been driving for a week. It’s absolutely impossible to explain what it’s like to ride on a motorbike through Saigon where drivers rarely pay attention to the street lights. The entire first half of the ride to the pho restaurant I was convinced we were going to crash, but half way through it I began to loosen up and really enjoy it. To get an idea of what it’s like to ride on a motorbike in Saigon consider this: On most of the smaller roads there are no dividing lines for lanes, drivers just weave in and out of each other, going different directions, while watching out for pedestrians, street-side vendors, and the occasional car or truck. On the larger roads that do have dividing lines everyone ignores them.

We arrived at the pho restaurant where we sat at a plastic picnic table with metal stools and ate a wonderful meal. The crazy street ambiance of the humid late morning in Saigon and a family serving their specialty to anyone willing to spend a few dong (the currency of Vietnam) was exciting. I know a lot of people who would never be willing to try something like this, to eat what amounts to street-food at a dirty plastic picnic table, with no air conditioning, (or napkins) in the middle of some strange city. They don’t know what they are missing. During the meal I had to grapple with a problem that I will face at every meal in Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, and India. In Southeast Asia it is considered taboo to eat with your left hand because it is impure since you use it to do things like wipe yourself after going to the bathroom. Since I’m left-handed this was going to be a big problem.

When the pho arrived at the table (about 30 seconds after we sat down, how’s that for fast food?) I attempted to pick up the chopsticks in my right hand, but could not operate them properly. I switched them to my left hand for the briefest of moments and Quoc got my attention and said, “No left hand!” I thought of explaining that I was left handed but didn’t bother, I’m sure they knew. He just smiled and his father called someone over to get me a fork and a spoon. Hua’s Uncle showed me that I had to hold the fork in my right hand and the spoon in my left, which is something I’d actually seen a number of people doing in lieu of chopsticks. That was the first of several times in which I would be corrected for using my left hand to eat but on none of those occasions did I feel offended though I know if that had happened in the U.S. I would have felt differently.

After leaving the pho restaurant we rode to another place for more food. We had a plate of chicken and rice and after eating it I was stuffed. After lunch, at Hua’s request, we went to a store that sold bootleg DVDs which are ubiquitous in Southeast Asia. We bought five movies or so for less than $10. Quoc’s father insisted on paying for the DVDs as he had for the meals. Michael, Hua, and I all felt bad that he was buying everything for us but there was nothing we could do except appreciate his generosity. We then all rode home and sat down to watch one of the movies we had bought. The first one we put on did not come with English subtitles, at least we couldn’t figure out how to display them. The second movie was something Quoc had picked out called Dragon Wars. It looked as if someone had filmed it in a movie theater with a handheld camera but it was still watchable. Unfortunately the plot was ridiculous, something about an ancient Korean serpent that ends up in modern day Los Angeles.

During the film it started raining heavily and continued to do so for the next few hours. Hua explained to us that in Vietnam most people take a siesta in the afternoon because it rains almost every day during the rainy season. This makes sense considering the large number of street-side vendors who operate in Saigon, many of whom do not have anything to protect their wares from the elements. Conversely, during the dry season it gets extremely hot. In the late afternoon it stopped raining and Quoc’s father left and returned with more food for us. At various points during the day we were given iced coffee and whole young coconuts from which we drank coconut juice.

The rain came and went and sometime in the evening it finally stopped so we (Quoc, his mother, two younger sisters, Michael, Hua, and I) took a taxi to a local market. Michael and I bought rice hats that Quoc’s mother insisted on paying for. Through Quoc she kept insisting on buying us things and at one point told us, “don’t be shy, if you want anything just let me know”. We saw some things we wanted but did not want her to pay for them so we decided we would come back tomorrow, alone.

Since we wouldn’t let her buy us anything she bought us more food instead. We ate some strange dried meat and fish that looked sort of like beef jerky. Later on we sat down at a small plastic table on the sidewalk near the market while a family prepared our dinner a few feet away. We had an amazing dinner of noodles, spring rolls, and more that I can’t remember now. As we ate, people whizzed by on motorbikes and yelled at each other in Vietnamese. A total stranger corrected my use of my left hand for eating and one of Quoc’s sisters showed me how to properly dip a spring roll into the sauce provided. There was a real feeling that everyone involved wanted to help me integrate with their culture rather than just staring at me in disbelief at my clumsiness, which is something that many of us from Semester At Sea have experienced in other countries. I felt then, as I do now, a strong sense of gratitude for having this chance to learn from people who live so differently from me, people who I will probably never see again but will certainly never forget.

By the end of the day I had eaten at least 6 meals, not including the various snacks that I was given in between each meal. It’s been a little over a week since my first day in Vietnam but it seems as if it happened a month ago. I’m sure there are a lot of little details that I’m missing, but overall I am amazed at the kindness of everyone I met on this first day in Vietnam. I’ve met so many different people on this trip so far, an elderly Japanese couple, a young businessman in Hong Kong, Hua’s family in Vietnam and Japan, random strangers in Thailand, and despite everything that makes them different from one another and myself an invisible thread of kindness runs through them all. It makes me wonder if it is kindness, and not intellect or some other quality, which really makes us human. We are, to anyone’s knowledge, perhaps the only creatures on Earth that will willingly help a stranger, even if it detrimental to ourselves. Of course, we have a great capacity for cruelty and deception, and I’ve met a number of suspicious and dubious characters, but so far I’ve met far more people who were kind and helpful.

Around 10 or 11 P.M. Quoc’s parents got a taxi for us, and we said our goodbyes to everyone. Hua would be spending another day with them later but Michael and I would never see them again and I felt incapable of expressing my gratitude for their kindness, especially since Quoc’s parents did not speak any English. When we arrived back at the ship I took a much needed shower and sat down to write about my day but I got tired quickly and went to sleep. After this great first day in Vietnam I was very excited about being here, and couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

My second day in Vietnam ended up being less eventful than the first. After a late start Michael and I went to get an early lunch at Lemongrass a restaurant in downtown Saigon that was supposed to have great food. Afterwards we walked down to the market to buy some things that we didn’t want Hua’s Aunt buying for us the day before. I bought some gifts for friends and family and some things for myself, including some Vietnamese tea I have never heard of and $100 sneakers that cost $20 (which would come in handy after Thailand where I walked through a stream in the jungle with my other sneakers). We then decided to try and keep pace with our many meals the day before so we went to a pho restaurant for an after-lunch meal. After stuffing ourselves once more we asked the waiter for directions to the art museum and then went on our way.

However, we never found the art museum. As we started walking it began to rain, lightly at first, but before long it was a downpour. It didn’t take very long for us to get soaked and since we could not find the museum we tried to find a bar or someplace where we could dry off. After walking around in desperation we finally found a Danish bar, of all things, and went inside. When one of the bartenders saw us she immediately handed us Tiger beer t-shirts, for free, and told us to go get changed in the bathroom. We ordered some beers we sat down and watched the riots and police intervention going on in Burma (Myanmar).

Sharing the bar with us were several businessmen from America and Scotland, respectively, and two middle-aged Vietnamese women. It seemed really weird that two Vietnamese women would be in a Danish bar in the middle of the afternoon so we tried to figure out what they were doing there. Michael and I watched as one of the men in the bar walked over to one of the Vietnamese ladies, whispered in her ear, and walked to the back somewhere. This was all very confusing, but before long all the pieces would fall into place. One of the Vietnamese women, who wore very expensive jewelry, walked over to us and asked us where we were from and if we were enjoying Vietnam. Eventually we would learn from her and her friend, who did a lot of the talking because her English was better, that she came to the bar to pick up men. She wasn’t a prostitute though, which was my first suspicion. She explained to us that she was married to a rich businessmen from Canada or the U.S. (she told us that she was “blinded by his money”) who spent a lot of time outside of Vietnam. Since he was never around she slept with other men (at least we think that’s what she was trying to tell us). Her husband obviously had a lot of money as she told us that several of her children were attending college in the U.S.

A little while later she bought both of us beers and then talked to us more, asking us how old we were. When we told her she laughed and said, “Too young!” and then turned to her friend, said something in Vietnamese, and then they both laughed. At that point Michael and I both felt very awkward especially since we didn’t know whether or not we should buy her a beer in return (we didn’t want to give her the wrong impression). We didn’t have too long to think about it because she had to leave to pick up her daughter from school. The entire situation was very weird and amusing, but at least we had some time to dry off. Since the rain had stopped we left to try and find the museum again.

When we finally gave up searching for the art museum we decided to eat again even though we weren’t very hungry. We found a street that had tons of Japanese and Korean restaurants and even though we wanted Vietnamese food I had to use the bathroom so badly that we decided to eat some Korean food. The food was good (and very spicy) but neither of us was hungry. We stuffed ourselves as much as possible and then decided to catch the shuttle bus back to the ship to drop off the things we had bought at the market. On the way to the shuttle bus it began raining lightly again. While we waited at a street corner a Vietnamese woman standing next to Michael put her umbrella over his head to shelter him from the rain while we crossed the street. It was such a small gesture but I thought it meant so much.

On the way back we heard someone mention a Jazz club so after returning to the downtown area we walked around trying to find it which ended up being quite easy. It was 8 P.M. and the band started at 9 so we sat and ordered drinks. While waiting for the music to start we watched a Vietnamese man get increasingly drunk as he drank a bottle of wine on his own. By the time the band came on he was sitting back in his chair with his eyes barely open and a drunken smile on his face. The band was really good, especially the pianist who was amazing. It’s a shame neither of us brought our cameras since we could have recorded some video. Occasionally an American came on stage when the band played blues songs and he played harmonica or guitar and sang. At one point the band even played a Jazz version of a Billy Joel song!

Thirty minutes into the show an elderly American women sat next to us. Eventually we started talking to her and after we introduced ourselves and explained what we were doing in Vietnam she asked what universities we went to. When I told her I went to Temple University and was studying Psychology her face lit up. Apparently she used to teach Psychology at Temple University and she now does therapy in Saigon. She gave me a business card in case I wanted a job in Vietnam when I graduated. It’s so strange to come halfway around the world and randomly meet someone from back home.

Michael and I stayed at the club as late as possible and then went to catch the last shuttle bus home only to find that there was no shuttle bus. A Vietnamese guy with a motorbike asked us if we needed to get somewhere and we broke another rule and accepted a ride from a total stranger (I felt safer doing that in Vietnam than I would in the U.S.). He spoke good English and when we told him we needed to get to the port he told us to hop on the bike and off we went. He got us there extremely quickly and was very nice, if I had had more money with me I would have given him more than the $2 he asked for. When we got back to the ship we went to bed quickly because the next day we were going to Cambodia.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

China - The Middle Kingdom

We’re on our way to Thailand and so much has happened since China. It feels as if it’s been months since I was there, but that was only 2 weeks ago. Unfortunately I don’t have much time to devote to writing at the moment. I’ll cover the highlights of my time in China and I will upload some pictures when I get to the hotel in Phuket, Thailand:

After Japan, China was bound to be a bit of a disappointment. The part of Qingdao that the port was located in was in bad shape. On the bus ride to the airport we saw piles of rubble in the middle of the road, homeless people living on the side of the road, and there was a persistent odor of burnt rubber in the air. This was a stark contrast to the cleanliness and order of Japan. In the bathroom of the airport in Qingdao there were Chinese men spitting on the floors, and no western-style toilets. Many of the public rest rooms I ended up using in China reeked of urine and other unidentifiable odors.

As different as Qingdao was, it didn’t prepare me for Beijing. There are 3 million private automobiles registered in Beijing, many of which are motorbikes. As a pedestrian in Beijing, you risk your life crossing the street because drivers don’t bother to swerve out of the way. The other strange thing about Beijing was the patchwork of newer buildings interspersed with older buildings that were abandoned and collapsing. Most of the meals we had in China were excellent. In all but the last one, which was a buffet, we shared plates of food that came out much faster than we could eat them. I noticed that at every meal there were always three types of meat served (chicken, pork, and beef) with fish, noodles, rice, and several plates of dark green vegetables (usually bok choy and something else). The Peking duck (which is more correctly known as Beijing duck) we had after our arrival in Beijing was especially tasty.

On our second day in Beijing we drove out to a section of the Great Wall and had a few hours to walk on it. I wasn’t nearly as impressed with the Great Wall as I had expected. I think the main reason for this is that you simply cannot grasp the size of it from the ground. Walking on it was really tiring though, I can’t imagine how they built it over the mountains. After the Great Wall we went to a restaurant that had a store and a pottery workshop attached to. We got a tour of the workshop and then had a great lunch. After eating we had some time to shop at the store where I bought some gifts including some tea. On another occasion we had lunch at a restaurant next to a silk factory and had the opportunity to see how they made silk garments.

That evening Michael and I took a taxi to the other side of Beijing and met Steve who used to be Cheryl’s neighbor in Santa Barbara but had moved to Beijing with his wife Danling. He took us to a restaurant that served Uyghur food from Xinjiang province in western China. He also drove us by the Olympic stadium and the swimming center both of which are still under construction but look very impressive already. He then took us to get a foot massage which he recommends to everyone who visits Beijing. It was a great massage (especially after climbing the Great Wall) and it only cost a few dollars! We then went to his apartment to meet his wife and he let us use his phone and the internet to call home and check our e-mail. He was very kind to both of us and it feels great to meet someone like that in a country where everyone is a stranger and speaks a different language than you. He made us feel at home.

The following day we visited Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City both of which would have been a lot more interesting if they weren’t packed with tourists and street vendors that wouldn’t leave you alone. I thought that many of the street vendors in China were annoying and rude, even after telling them ten times you weren’t interested they would continue to follow you around. The Chinese apparently have a very different concept of customer service than the rest of the world (the vendors on the streets and the markets of Vietnam and Cambodia were much nicer). We also visited the Temple of Heaven which was pretty impressive especially since it was only built for the Qing dynasty emperors to use only once or twice a year to pray for good crops for the kingdom.

In the evening we flew to Xi’an and the following day the main attraction was the Terracotta Warriors museum. I had woken up that morning with a sore throat, a runny nose, and what felt like a fever. Apparently in China no one uses tissues and there is no toilet paper in the public restrooms. I took as many tissues as I could from the hotel and stuffed them into my pockets. By the time we got to the museum I had no more tissues left and my nose was running worse than ever. I was feeling very annoyed and the afternoon heat wasn’t helping matters. I wandered around grumpily on my own for a bit trying to find a bathroom. I stopped into a few of the excavated pits and was disappointed to find one entirely empty and the other filled with terracotta warriors and twice as many tourists. I ran into Michael, Emily, and Brittany and we all agreed that the museum was a disappointment. I think at this point most of the group had had enough of constant sight-seeing and wanted some time to explore on our own. Our day ended with a wonderful dinner and a Tang dynasty show which featured traditional dancing and music from the Tang dynasty. I think it was one of the best parts of the trip, the music was really cool.

On our last day in Xi’an we had a calligraphy lesson which was very fun. We all kept the paper that we wrote the Chinese characters on. The other highlight of the day was our visit to the market in the Muslim quarters. Michael and I ran into Doc Nancy, the Ecology/Biology professor who was looking for wooden cricket cages. Apparently they sell crickets for good luck and sometimes people buy them and make them fight each other. She taught us how to bargain and told us interesting stories about her previous travels such as the time she ate fried crickets in Africa. We flew to Hong Kong that night and I went to bed early hoping I would feel better in the morning.

The next morning the sneezing and the runny nose had cleared up and I thought I was getting better. Michael and I went with our friend Hua to downtown Hong Kong and ate a delicious Dim Sum lunch followed a few hours later by some Malaysian food. We were intent on eating as much as possible before we had to go back to the ship. The following morning I woke up with a sore throat and I felt really delirious. I made it through the morning but around lunch I started having stomach cramps. I made it back to the room just in time to spend the rest of the day either in the bathroom or in bed. Thankfully I was feeling better by the time we reached Vietnam.

In a comment to one of my previous posts my Dad had asked:

What does C.E. mean or stand for after the date? I, who know everything, have never seen that before.

C.E. usually stands for Common Era though it can also stand for Current Era or Christian Era (the last one doesn’t make as much sense). B.C.E then means Before Common Era and they are used often today (at least in the books and articles I read) to replace B.C. and A.D. because they are religion-neutral. For historians or other people in non-Christian countries B.C. and A.D. are meaningless. The other advantage to B.C.E and C.E. is that they are suffixes and are used after the date whereas B.C. is a suffix and A.D. is a prefix.

Now you will have to tell me how you compare China to Japan after you go there. I am willing to bet China is more like the USA than Japan.

I’m not sure what you mean by this. China was a lot different from Japan but I don’t think it was very similar to the U.S. at all. In what ways do you think China and the U.S. might be the same? One thing I found interesting about China was that many people wanted to speak English to you but few people knew it very well whereas in Japan few people knew English and they never tried speaking it to you unless you asked them something in English. In the markets in China the merchants had a set of memorized phrases in English which they would repeat and you could tell right away that this was so when you started speaking to them because they would just stare at you blankly. In Japan if you tried to explain something in English and they didn’t understand they would make an effort to understand you. On the other hand, I saw waitresses in some of the restaurants we ate at walk away from people after they couldn’t understand what the person was asking for. Of course I can’t make valid comparisons between the two countries because I’m only visiting a tiny percentage of the population in just a few cities in each country. Additionally, I had time in Japan to do independent travel which gives you more time to interact with the locals and explore the neighborhoods. It’s the independent travel that I have really enjoyed the most both in Japan and also in Vietnam which I will tell everyone about soon.

I hope everyone is doing well at home and for everyone that is going to Disney World I hope you have a great time, I’m sure Christopher will love it.