Cambodia, Part II

I just got off a seven hour bus ride from Phnom Penh and checked into my guest house here in Siem Reap. These asian versions of hostels are spectacular by European standards. They’re cleaner, offer more amenities, and have great options for food and entertainment. But who needs entertainment in a guest house when you could be the White Hero at a local club?

The tuk-tuk driver that brought myself and my friend Chris to dine on the night’s forbidden dish ate and drank (both blood and venom) with us. We all got a bit tipsy and agreed to head out after cleaning up a bit. Chris bowed out to meet a friend so my new Cambodia friend Mark and I hit the town.

As a tuk-tuk driver, Mark is incredibly well connected. He knows every bar and club and has connections to anything that you’d want. He’s like a mobile concierge that goes crazy for $5. He brought us to a night club where I was the only white person in the place. Some of music was this traditional music where a slow, non-touching, Cambodian congo line where women are repeating this serpentine arm and hand movements. The rest was Cambodian dance music. Rock on.

Needless to say, I was the most popular person in the club. After sitting down two local girls walked right over and started comparing their arm color to mine. Mark said the girls were in love with my pale skin. Finally, this moon burnt skin color is working out for me! As Mark translated conversations between myself and the girls two guys came up and sat down with us. As I started handing out the Marlboro reds I picked up in Hong Kong our group continued to grow. Ultimately the dance floor had half as many people as were standing around our table high-fiving me, delivering Cambodian dance lessons, and shouting “cheers!” for every sip.

(I now realize that this is the first time I’ve mentioned the Marlboros. I read somewhere that cigarettes are an excellent currency for bribing officials. They’re not that expensive and American cigarettes, and while available locally, the locals tend to purchase the cheapest cigs available. So, I pack of reds to a customs official or a cigarette or two to a tuk-tuk driver and new doors are opened. I bought a carton at the Hong Kong duty free for $12.)

Mark and I partied into the wee morning hours (again!) By the end of the evening I was promising to help get him to the US. You know, with the small streets and high amount of foot traffic, a tuk-tuk driver could clean up in SF. Mark told me over a fine glass of cobra venom that his mother is in Cambodian prison for 10 years. Apparently she was caught smuggling amphetimines over the border from Vietnam. Mark is the only bread-earner in his family and his wife, kid, and parents all live with him. His Mom wanted to help out but couldn’t get work. Drug trafficing seemed like the best way to help put dinner on the table.

Tomorrow I’ll see Angkor Wat as the sun rises. My tuk-tuk leaves at 4:30 AM and an English-speaking guide will be waiting there for me. Then Friday I’ll fly to Vientiane, Laos via Bangkok just in time for the New Year celebration. All of the people I know are going to Chiang Mai, which seems to be the unofficial capital for the region for this event. But time is limited for me and Laos is high on my priority list.