Cambodia

Last spring,

When Craig and I decided to travel to Cambodia, we went because we wanted to explore the temples, particularly Angkor Wat (which actually ended up not even being my favourite temple). We had the obligatory beach-time on the Perhentian Islands in Malaysia, so we immersed ourselves in some important history and education in Cambodia. Also, many of our friends in Korea had gone and come back singing the praises of the beautiful Cambodian people with a rich, albeit poverty-stricken culture.

Our friends were completely right. Cambodia was beautiful as a country and the people were even more beautiful. Their smiles were heartwarming. Despite having every right to frown, the Cambodian people chose to smile.

But, it was not a vacation. It was not a holiday. It was not relaxing like Malaysia or Thailand.

I can't think of any better word to describe our short time in Cambodia than: heavy. It was eye-opening. It was educating. It was not fun. Let me explain why.

We went to the Killing Fields and learned first-hand about the genocide that had taken place there. We saw all around us the people who were still feeling the effects of it. And here we were, two tourists travelling to all these different countries in Asia, on the outside looking in. Of course tourists are important for the Cambodian economy. Thank goodness for Angkor Wat and the other temples. But in the midst of extreme poverty I became hyper-aware of the fact that were travelling to three different countries within the matter of a few days (which, let's face it, isn't cheap) while everywhere I looked there were kids who had no shoes on their feet and no clothes on their backs.

No matter where our tuk-tuk stopped, as soon as our driver began to slow we would be swarmed with young children and adults alike begging us to buy their beautiful hand-made souvenirs or pieces of art for dirt cheap. Desperate to help we purchased more than enough bracelets and paintings, but to buy from everybody would have left us stranded in Siem Reap. To hand money to one little girl as another watched in desperation - heartbreaking.

We went to the war museum and took a look at the statistic books which showed how many Cambodians had been injured or killed by land mines. And sadly, land mines are actually still around in some parts of the country.

Our driver. His name was Bun Horn, his nickname was Plate. For the smallest of fees he brought us all around Siem Reap in his tuk-tuk. He spent entire days in the hot sun, lying in his tuk-tuk as we ventured around the massive temples. Needless to say we gave him several tips and invited him to dinner with us a few times - he deserved that and so much more. During the meals we ate with him, he told us the details of his difficult family history as well as the even more difficult history of the country. He spoke with such sincerity and candor that it nearly brought tears to my eyes. Yet, he smiled more brightly than anyone I've ever known. His smile has made an imprint in my mind which I am certain will last forever.

Whenever I think of the other countries I visited in Southeast Asia I feel a sense of peace and relaxation. Whenever I think of Cambodia, I feel panicked, I feel heavy-hearted and I feel helpless.

I guess my point is, if you're thinking of travelling to Cambodia - don't bother going there for a holiday. Go there only if you feel ready for an overwhelming, mind-boggling, heart-wrenching slap in the face from our mutual friend: reality.