ASIA: Tomb Raiders & War Remnants (Cambodia-Vietnam-Thailand)
Plans change. Hamilton and I planned to visit a few more places in Southeast Asia, however factors out of our immediate control changed those plans. So outside of Thailand, I was only able to visit Cambodia and Vietnam–but that’s still pretty damn cool if you ask me. So I’m going to cover both my time in Siem Reap, Cambodia, and Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam, with some very different, yet slightly related ideas. And then I’ll wrap it all up with a quick mention of my short return to Bangkok, Thailand and my final thoughts on Asia. Holla. Let’s roll.
Siem Reap provided me with two very different and distinctive feelings/understandings–one positive, the other a bit more gloomy. Let’s begin with the latter. After a five hours in a stuffy little van, a couple hours dealing with the rather shady Cambodian border control, and another three hours in a van, we arrived in Siem Reap. Other than the border patrol and the constant heckling from the “tuck-tuck” (taxi) drivers who doubled as drug-dealers and pimps, my first impression of Cambodia remained positive. However I was most eager to see the main attraction of Siem Reap: Angkor Wat. Angkor Wat is the largest site of temples and religious structures in the world. So Ham and I rented bikes ($1 for the day) and slowly (Ham’s bike riding skills need some work) headed toward the temple complex. When arriving in Angkor Wat the first thing you notice is the sheer size of the area. All of the temples are spread out across the jungle-esque landscape so most people are traveling by means of “tuck-tuck” between each of them. The next observation I made as I walked through the temples/structures was that it felt like living out a scene from an adventure/thriller movie due to the surreal, ancient architecture, carvings and structural elements. In fact, two pretty famous films have been shot in temples at Angkor Wat; Tomb Raider and Indiana Jones Temple of Doom… maybe you’ve heard of them? But the cinematic and picturesque ambience is not the one that caught my attention. While I walked through the archaic central structure, an eerie feeling crept over me in the form of a wispy, almost ghostly draft that trickled down my spine. I know, sounds a bit extreme; like something out of an M. Night Shyamalan flick right? But I kid you not I shivered, and it was around 90°F and humid as hell. The sensation was accompanied by an adventitious sense of unwelcomeness. So what caused this notion? Maybe it was the lingering negative energy produced by the Cambodia's dark history regarding the Khmer Rouge genocide associated with Angkor Wat. As one of the most substantial and detrimental genocides in human history (~1.5 to 3 million killed; 21%-33% of Cambodia's population), the Khmer Rouge left a disastrous impact on Cambodia and Angkor Wat. But maybe that wasn’t the cause of the strange feeling that swept over me, for I had felt this feeling in other temples, monasteries, and other cultural and religious landmarks. Here was my thought behind the feeling; As tourists, why do we feel so entitled to see, touch or enter anything with historical or religious significance when we visit new places? Tourists seem to feel that just because they’ve paid an entrance fee that they deserve to do as they please. I mean sure I get it–we all want to see the beloved monuments and landmarks of a country, but to me, there are times where it just doesn’t feel right. Did those who resurrected these sacred temples or pagodas do so with the assumption that thousands of foreigners with cameras and bags full of souvenirs from the gift shop, would flood the holy grounds of their creation? I doubt it. But I guess that’s just the nature of tourism, and I can’t really be angry at that. It would be damn hypocritical of me. I just think it’s important, that as visitors of a new land, specifically the pillar of a city or a whole country, we show as much respect and delicacy as we can. You don’t desperately need a hundred photos of the monastery that you're in, to post on Facebook–one or two will suffice. Put your cameras down, lower your voice (better yet don’t speak at all), and gracefully walk the grounds of structure that for many may be extremely holy or spiritually important. I can vouch that experiencing these kinds of places in such a way allows for you to truly soak in the ambience, the energy and the historical significance of them. Just my opinion; give it a try.
After hours of riding our bikes and surveying many of the temples and tombs of the complex, Ham decided he was calling it a day due to lack of sleep and exhaustion. So he headed back to our little hostel while I continued to check out a few more temples–including Ta Prohm, where one of my childhood favorites, Tomb Raider was shot. It was pretty awesome, but regrettably I do not have any cool pictures to show off (sorry mom). As I began to lose daylight, I also noticed the tumultuous roar of thunder began to increase. I figured I better get the hell out of dodge, but I was still maybe 20-25 km away from the hostel- at least an hour and a half long bike ride. But just my luck, the minute I hopped on my bike it began to pour. When I say pour, I’m talking cats and dogs, raining buckets along with lightning... in just a matter of minutes. So here I am; riding an old rusty bicycle, in shorts and a tank-top (remember it was like 90 earlier), dredging along the roads that wound through the jungle, getting completely and utterly drenched. My initial reaction was: “F*ck! This sucks!” However, as I continued to ride in vexation, I noticed the sounds of youthful laughter and banter beside me. As I looked to my left I saw three or four young Cambodian boys, maybe 11 or 12 years old, all riding similarly old, rusty bikes. All of them were shirtless and just as drenched as me; the difference was they had the hugest smiles on their faces. I can’t remember the last time I saw anyone as full of joy as these kids were. They were enjoying the warm rain pour down on them as if it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to them. It was so pure. Immediately my anguish was washed away with the rain. I smiled and howled back at them as I threw up the “hang loose” shocka motion. They giggled and returned the gesture as they swerved onto the nearest turn-off back towards the jungle. I’ll let you interpret that moment in your own way. All I’ll say is this: PERSPECTIVE.
There were many reasons why I wanted to visit Vietnam. I have friends who are Vietnamese, I’ve read many good things about the country, and of course the historical significance is evident. However while reading up on other people’s experiences traveling to Vietnam, I came across a fair amount of travelers who didn’t really enjoy their time in the country. One particular review of traveling in Vietnam, I held in high regards because it written by one of my favorite travel bloggers (or Digital Nomads as some call them); Nomadic Matt. The reason Matt singled out Vietnam as his least favorite country was due mainly to the lack of respect he received while traveling there. Whether it was being constantly overcharged, ripped off, or simply treated poorly, Matt felt disrespected. In his article he mentions that he met a teacher who had lived in Vietnam for many years who believed that a large portion of Vietnamese people are taught from a young age that Westerners, especially Americans and the French, are the cause of the country's problems. Because of this they grow up feeling that Westerners “owe them”– so when a budget traveler comes around trying to bargain or save money it’s seen as insulting.
I read this article prior to visiting Saigon and so the sentiment remained parked in the back of my mind– just to remind myself to be observant of such a thing. Initially I didn’t really notice much of this attitude. This may have been because I was spending much of my time with my two different Couchsurfing hosts who were top-notch guys. Tuan and Hao were a couple of young Vietnamese guys who treated me with nothing but respect, generosity, and amiability. However throughout the week I spent in Saigon I began to notice hints of contempt and disregard from some of the Vietnamese people (mostly older) that I interacted with. Now it was mostly unobtrusive; but let me point out that through months of traveling through Asia I have grown quite a thick skin. While I remained unsure if I was possibly less sensitive to the attitude, I did in fact notice it and therefore spent some time considering it’s origin and basis. The answer seemed evident: French Colonialism and The Vietnam War. Nonetheless, I didn’t truly understand why until I made a visit to the War Remnants Museum in Saigon. I don’t want to bore you with details about a museum but I cannot express how powerful the exhibits in the War Remnants Museum were; particularly regarding the Vietnam War, of course. My prior knowledge of the war was decent I suppose–but little did I know how much more I could learn by spending a mere three to four hours in that museum. Furthermore, the most enthralling part of the museum was the section dedicated to portraying the horrors of the aftermath of the war–specifically the effects of agent orange. I had never seen such graphic yet mesmerizing images in my life. Men, women and children with life altering birth defects, injuries and other severe ramifications staring back at you as if way more than just pictures on the wall of a museum. That’s because they are; they are real people whose lives,children's lives, and grandchildren’s lives were forever impacted by the use of a weapon containing the most toxic chemicals known to man. Now I’m not going to use this blog as a platform to express my opinions regarding the Vietnam War or biological or chemical warfare; I would like only to present you with this question: Can Americans really be angry at the Vietnamese people for still harboring some ill-will towards them after the atrocities that we bestowed upon them? Maybe, maybe not. But I challenge any American, of any descent or background, to visit that museum, or honestly just do some thorough research of the aftermath of the war and not feel a hint of guilt or remorse for what happened during that time.
Anywho. . . I hardly planned on ever really touching on any kind of political issues whilst writing this blog, I only wanted to present a notion for some of you to consider.* I come in peace. Moving on–BACK TO THE LAND OF THAI! Ham and I returned to Bangkok for about four days to chill out before our return to Europe via Germany and boy was I glad we did. It was a great last Southeast Asia hoorah. We met and stayed with an awesome group of fellow travelers, drank a lot of beer, took advantage of our final chance to grub on cheap street food, and drank more beer. On one of these days, acting on a spiritual impulse, Hamilton, our new friend Hiromichi and I traveled a couple hours outside of Bangkok to the Nakhon Pathom Province, where we visited the Wat Bang Phra monastery. This is where I received a Sak Yant from a buddhist monk. But you're going to have to wait until you see me in person to ask me about that story.
So yeah, like I said: plans change. That’s true in life in general, but especially true when traveling. If there’s one thing I that I can guarantee you; your plans will change. Don’t worry though, it’s advantageous in the long run. Your plans will hardly ever go accordingly and that is simply because you cannot account for all of the external factors that will drastically alter your schedule or trip’s timeline. Additionally, you may encounter people, places or atmospheres that will draw you in and change your plans out of necessity. Finally– and this is true mostly for those traveling on a budget– money will change your plans. It is nearly impossible to accurately predict exactly how much money you will spend while traveling, and when and where you will spend it. Despite all of this, through constantly changing your plans, your schedule and your budget, you will learn flexibility, compromise, and the beauty in spontaneity. This is something I’d like to discuss further, but I think I will save it for another time–I plan on devoting an entire post to travel tips, secrets, etc.
So Hamilton and I’s plans changed–quite drastically in a sense. See, for reasons I won’t discuss, Ham’s journey had to take a detour. While he was planning on traveling with me to Europe, external factors (as I mentioned they do), caused Hamilton to have to re-adjust his travels. This readjustment involved cancelling the Europe plans he made with me and returning back to the States for a period of time. This meant that I would be continuing the rest of my journey by my lonesome. Initially this scared me a bit. But traveling through Asia for almost three months taught me how to be how to adaptable. So having provided me with that newly honed skill, amongst many other valuable life lessons, Asia gave me a firm kick on the ass and sent me out the door, across the continent and smack dab into Europe. So as they say in Germany: Ich besorge das Bier!
-G
*Sidenote: If any of you actually would like to discuss the use of Chemical warfare in the Vietnam War or just the use of Biological/Chemical Warfare in general, I’m always more than glad to do so in a different setting. I’m actually well informed on the subject as well as other topics related to Morality in wartime and such. However, if you’d rather seek out the opinion of a truly brilliant moral philosopher, I suggest the works of one of my favorites Jeff McMahan.
