Getting Closer

Joe, Fiona, and I were told it would take two hours from Poipet to get to Siem Reap. Our chariot was a Toyota corolla, our driver a Cambodian who spoke no English aside from "Go" and "Siem Reap" which, lucky for us, was all we really needed. He popped in a cassette of his favorite Cambdian songs and off we went.

30 minutes in to our drive, a loud whistling began coming from under the hood. The driver was clearly alarmed at the sound; so were we given the fact that we were in the middle of nowhere Cambodia. Lucky for us, there was a shop about 5 minutes down the road in the direction back to Poipet. We turn around and pull in to the Cambodian equivalent of a mom and pop gas station/garage.

Two dudes run out to help us and realize that it's a loose belt. No problem! They tighten it up and in 10 minutes we're back on the road. The whistling sound has stopped and all is right with the world....until ten minutes up the road when the whistling begins again, the air conditioner begins blowing furnace like air, and all the lights and dials on the dash stop working. Back to HUMTANGSOUR WORKING SHOP it is. The same two dudes run out, pop open the hood and find the loose belt- only this time it's loose because it's broken. Siem Reap seems a looooong way away. Joe, Fiona, and I wait out in the blazing sun praying HUMTANGSOUR has a spare belt. Buddha's answering prayers that day, a belt is found and the working shop gets to work fixing the car. Across the street is a little shop selling soda and various other Cambodian sundries.

It's hot, so I run over to pick up some cold Cokes and find the shop manned by a ten year old boy. I pay two bucks for the soda and the little boy stares at me like I'm Daddy Warbucks. I'm guessing they don't get a lot of Americans dropping two dollars on Coke around these parts.

By the time we finish our sodas, the repairs are done and we're back on the road. The rest of the car trip is uneventful. It's a straight shot that reminds me a lot of driving from Pasadena to Ocean city (only more tropical and dusty and fewer people saying hon).

When we reach Siem Reap, our cab driver drops us off at a Tuk Tuk stand to get us the rest of the way to our hostel. Tuk Tuks are open air carriages attached to motorcycles, and are a really fun way to get around. It costs one dollar for a 15 minute ride (side note: that's not the only 15 minute ride in Cambodia that costs a dollar- HEY O!). We hop in the tuk tuk, and lucky for us, one of the locals jumps in to give us a "tour" of Siem Reap. I learnt quickly that this was a common m.o. for the people of Siem Reap: if you see a group of westerners walking together, walk with them and just start spouting off facts about the town; if said westerners don't tell you to piss off, then they owe you money for listening to you. I admire their enterprising spirit. Our tour guide quickly informs us that Cambodian women really like men with big, hairy chests- "like you" he tells me (how he knows that under my shirt I look like Chewbacca's brother, I don't know). He also offered to find Joe a "girlfriend" (see fifteen minute rides for a dollar above). I stopped paying attention to him after that, and tried to take some pictures of Siem Reap- no easy feat in a moving tuk tuk.

In no time, we reach the Siem Reap Hostel and meet up with our friends Kristi and Brian. Kristi and Brian work with me in Manila, and had left earlier than us to see other parts of Southeast Asia. The hostel was surprisingly nice; Joe, Kristi, Brian and I had a spacious room with AC and a private bathroom, all for only $11 a night. Joe and I drop off our bags and all of us head out onto the town for a night of drunken debauchery. And by "a night of drunken debauchery" I mean "dinner and souvenir shopping at the night market".