Greg’s Words of Wisdom

Of all of my classmates that I meet during the first two weeks, one’s story is remarkably different.  He is much older than all of us: most of us are somewhere between the ages of 22 and 27.  He is in his late fifties, and also is from Cambodia.

I come in class a teeny bit late the first day because of jet lag (my teacher knew I was late because I was his roomate and he left before me!), so I had to sit in the corner of the room.  I ended up sitting next to this man, and for the next two weeks was his partner in a lot of the class activities we did, as well as a buddy that you talk to when the teacher isn’t looking (funny how old habits from high school die hard).

His story is remarkable: he was in his 20s in the mid-1970s, when the Khmer Rouge controlled the country.  He was able to escape with his wife to the jungle, and in 1979, was finally able to escape to Thailand.  He told some of us his story at lunch one day; unfortunately I was sitting at a different table, and didn’t hear the details.  But I do know that it was a horrifying experience.

Upon arriving in Thailand he and his wife were able to get a plane to America, where they ended up settling in Orlando.  He raised a family and now has three kids, all in their twenties.  Eight months ago, he decided to come back to his country of origin, to teach English.  It was his first time ever returning.  He is currently a teacher at an NGO about a half hour outside of Phnom Penh.

On one of the last days of class, we wrote a reading comprehension story and read it to the class.  Most stories were fictional and funny; he told the story of his first day in America, which was spent at the San Francisco airport.  He remarked that it was very cool outside, and that they were fed chicken with a strange sauce on it, and only two scoops of rice.  Looking at the rice, he “knew they would go hungry that night.”  They knew no English.

I guess I’m writing about this because now I consider him a friend; we exchanged a couple emails since I’ve left Cambodia, and if and when I return, will contact him.  Maybe I’ve mentioned it because I’ve never met anyone before who has survived something like this; whatever it may be, I’m glad that I know him.

—

Cambodia is pretty wild place.  There are not a lot of rules that are enforced.  For instance, marijuana is an illegal drug in Cambodia.  If you are caught smoking marijuana, you are thrown in jail.  Cambodia is not a place where one wants to spend time in jail, or atleast that assumption can be made.

All that being said, there are numerous bars where the smell of this particular herb permeates the air.  One such bar has a stage with plugged in instruments; you can go up on stage and play.  I played electric bass for the first time; I was booed off stage by about 25 people.  There is also a chain of restaurants called Happy Pizza.  They serve about 35 different types of pizza: I usually got the Hawaiian, it I would rank 7 out of 10 on the tasty scale.  If you order the ‘Special Happy Pizza’ at Happy Pizza, then it comes out with a Special Herb on it.  A friend from Cambodia told me that her friend ordered it and saw a dragon come out of the wall; he ran all the way home screaming.

The point of all this is that in Cambodia…..anything goes.  There are laws on the books, but no one really cares to enforce them.  Although I mentioned this earlier, it truly does feel like the Wild West.

The road is dominated by motorbikes, with a few sedans thrown in and a decent amount of sports utility trucks.  I’m told by a teacher that the trucks are all stolen from the Middle East: they are primarily Hummers, Lexus trucks, and Land Rovers.

There aren’t any traffic rules; people drive on the wrong side of the street, sideways through traffic, whatever.  It all kind of works out; the only real problem are the above mentioned trucks.

Its not uncommon to see a Hummer go barreling up a busy street on the wrong side of the road, wreaking havoc for anyone in the way.  Bad driving doesn’t even begin to describe it; I would call it murderous.  The mentality of the trucks is this: I am bigger than you, and you are in my way, therefore, I will drive directly at you.  Again…….there really aren’t any rules for this stuff.  Everything just sort of flies by the pants.

One interesting thing about the people Southeast Asia: they love fried chicken.  When I saw the sign for Louisiana Fried Chicken in Phnom Penh, I just figured it was geared towards Westerners.  But I’ve been told that actually American style fried chicken is a big thing here.  Families go out and eat it with forks and knives.  And everytime I walked by LFC, as it was called on its front door, it was filled with Cambodians.

There are KFCs EVERYWHERE out here.  Back home in Boston, the only one I remember was in Allston, right near Twin Donuts.  There may have been on in Central Square.  And there was a Popeyes in Kenmore Square, near Fenway Park.

But out here…..KFC rules.  I never would have thought.  Speaking of which…….

There is Corn on the Cob everywhere out here!  Its insane: if there was one type of food that I figured would be kissed goodbye upon moving out here, it would be the almost obnoxiously American corn on the cob.  But there is no escaping Corn on the Cob, whether one is Cambodia or Vietnam.

Pushcarts sell corn on the cob grilled on the street, for something like 15 cents a pop.  Fresh popcorn is to be had on the street everywhere!  I still haven’t gotten any (I’ve never been a big fan really), but it starting to look good.  I might have to take a gander…..

Before I go, here are some assorted picks of Phnom Penh.  I’ll be back with more stories.

Until Next Time,

Greg

Allo!

Well, I’ve been in Vietnam for about a week now; I’m still adjusting to the huge city that is Ho Chi Minh, or Saigon.  Before it becomes distant memories, I want to record my experiences in Cambodia.

Cambodia, or Kampuchia as it is known in Southeast Asia, is still essentially an undeveloped country.  There are no trains, like in other countries.  As one teacher of mine described it, it is pre-industrial.

For my first two weeks here in Asia, I was in Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia.  It is the only real city in the country.  It is relatively small; about 2 million people live in the city.  After living there for two weeks, I definitely sensed a small town vibe.

On our first day, the Sunday after flying in, we were arranged to have a group get together with the other people studying.  A Tuk-Tuk came by and picked up myself and my roomate: we were driven to a temple in the middle of the city to meet the other students, and see some sights.  The first place we stopped at was a temple in the middle of the city.  We had to climb a hill that was a few hundred feet: it is the highest point in the ciy.

The monkeys you see in the pictures above run around the temple.  A guy walks around selling a plant that they eat.  I bought some for about 12 cents American; it was cool feeding them.

Monkeys are like little people when you see them up close; there aren’t a lot in Massachusetts, so this was a new thing for me.  Its really amazing; they’re facial expresssions are very human-like.  And when they grab stuff from your hands, it feels like they’re slapping you five!

The plants that we were feeding them were edible: they tasted chalky.  There were a bunch of kids running around pointing to their mouths.  When I gave one to a girl, I was bombarded about 15 more little kids.  I threw them my leaves before I was swallowed whole by little children.

Other highlights: there was a really, really fat monkey sitting motionless.  Someone said it was a pregnant girl monkey; to me, it just looked like a lazy fat monkey.  Guess I’ll never know for sure.

Other assorted stories from Cambodia:

Teachers and Class:

Classes started on the Monday: it was like time-travelling back to the fourth grade: grammar lessons!  I actually enjoyed them.

One of our teachers was interesting, to say the least:  he is 73 years old, and claims to have lived in Asia for 56 years, since 1953.  He also claims to speak six different forms of English and to have lived in over 50 countries.  And he informed us all that he was deported from the U.S. in the 1970s for anti-Vietnam war activities.

When I asked him where he lived the longest, he gave me the following answer:  “Well, the longest I lived anywhere was Taiwan……I was there 11 months, I had a good job, then the f**king government got all messed up…..but yah, that was a good thing there.”

So in 56 years he never stayed anywhere more than a year.

Such are the ex-pats you meet in Southeast Asia.  For the most part, we learned about fairy tales in his class, and how to relate them to different cultures.  Also, English phonemics, quite possibly the most boring subject in the world, aside from Paint Drying 101.

My classmates were a smorgasbord from America, with a spattering of Australians: two Chicago natives, two Wisconsin natives, and two Melbourne natives, and a couple from London.  Also represented were El Paso, Texas, San Fran, Orlando, Alabama, Long Island and Conneticutt.

Eight of us were Vietnam bound; 6 Thailand bound; and three were heading to different cities throughout China.

Together we learned how to control a classroom and how to phometically break up English grammar.

—

In Cambodia, the language is Khmer: it is pronounced Ka-Mai, as in “my”.

The food in Cambodia is Khmer: pronounced Ka-Meer.

The culture is Khmer, pronounced like the food.

The Khmer language looks a little bit like Arabic, or Hebrew: it is very hard to read, and there are no breaks between words.  All words are connected with no spaces.

The word for Thank You in Khmer is pronounced Akun.  That’s the only word I remember.

TO BE FINISHED ASAP

Disclaimer: Some Names Have Been Changed

Hey There,

So as you probably know, if you’re a friend of mine, I have moved to Asia to teach English.  Specifically, I have moved to the city of Saigon, known officially as Ho Chi Minh City, to teach English.  I have been here for a little over two weeks now: my first two weeks were spent in Phnom Penh, Cambodia.  I have only been here in Saigon for three days.

As would be expected, my first night in Cambodia was, well, a little shocking.  I had just spent over 24 hours traveling around the world: starting at 8:2o on a Friday morning, I was dropped off my parents and sister at Logan Airport in Boston.  From there, I took a 45 minute flight to JFK in New York.  I sat in JFK for about 4 hours: I started typing a  blog post in a Word Doc (which I didn’t like and won’t be publishing), I ate some really expensive, fairly crappy food, I listened to half of a podcast by Adam Carolla (one of his CarCasts, about motorcycles), and I read a decent chunk of a Chuck Klosterman book, Killing Yourself to Live.

Then I jumped on a plane for Seoul, South Korea, on Korea Air.  The next thirteen hours are something of a blur to me: I watched a few movies (Dog Day Afternoon….which I had never seen before and was awesome!  Love that Pacino…..and Cezale!; Taken, which was good, but not as good as Man on Fire [very similar movies], the new Star Trek, which I really didn’t like….I’m convinced that I’m just not a Star Trek guy, and never will be.), I played a lot of electronic backgammon, I watched some Everybody Loves Raymond, I went to the bathroom a few times, stretched my legs, ate two of the crappiest meals of my life, ate one of the tastiest pork buns of my life, tried to sleep with my hanging my head vertically forward, and also by leaning my head on my neighbor’s shoulder without him noticing, and pretty much went stir crazy and started thinking insane thoughts to myself.

Flying for 13 hours……..you haven’t lived until you’ve tried it!

After a flight that long, its almost like the whole Shawshank Redemption thing: you get used to those walls around you, and eventually, you need them.  I really didn’t even want to go out into the real world upon landing.

But I did…..and was greeted by a bunch of Koreans wearing face masks, checking my forms to see if I had been sick in the last two weeks.  They didn’t seem to care once they heard I was heading to Cambodia.

Then I walked to my gate and waited in the Seoul Airport for about 4o minutes.  I remember drinking a strawberry shake, and I remember that it was reported to be 80 degrees outside.  That’s really all I remember.

Then we boarded another Korea Air flight to Phnom Penh: 5 more hours!  I got some sleep that was really crappy, and makes you feel disjointed and groggy.  I ate another crappy meal.  I filled out my visa application.  And finally, after 5 hours……Phnom Penh!

So yah….I was pretty out of it by the time I landed.

I met two girls who were both taking the same teaching class as me, Marguerite and Kathryn.   Together we wandered into the tropical night to find our transporters, who were supposed to be at a Dairy Queen.  I couldn’t find the Dairy Queen in my state of weirdness, but eventually, we found our drivers.  Marguerite was from Alabama; we talked a little Southern Culture.

Before landing in Cambodia, I had been told by a friend to mind my P’s and Q’s, because according to her, it was “really ghetto.”  That’s all I was really thinking about as we drove in our minivan into the city, and I stared out the window at piles of trash on the sidewalks and people riding around on bikes.  I’ll be honest; it was a little unnerving.

When we got to the OK Guesthouse, it turned out I wasn’t staying there: I was living with some dude named Ron, who showed up on his motorbike and looked to be in his late fifties.  Umm….okay.

Upon arriving at Ron’s house, he gave me the tour of my bedroom, and most notably, the bathroom.  As far as I can remember, this is how the bathroom part of the tour went:

Leading me to the far side of the kitchen, near the sink, Rick opens the door.

I stare in, seeing a toilet bowl with no flush……and nothing else.

Ron: “Now…..this is an Asian toilet.  The seat comes down like this (slamming plastic toilet seat onto porcelain rim).  We don’t use toilet paper out here…..right here you got your butt cleaner (picking up a hose attached to the wall, with a controlled nozzle).  It doesn’t have a flush…….use the butt cleaner to get anything down, and if that doesn’t work (reaching down and grabbing a small purple bucket), you use the bucket.  Don’t worry……just keep giving it the bucket and hose, and eventually everything will go down.”

Me: “Umm…..okay.  Got it!”

And that was my first night in Asia.

—

But it got better.  The next day I went out with the other student living in Ron’s house, Matt.  Matt is Australian: we spent about an hour shooting the shit, or as he called it, “having a guest bag.”

We hit the streets at about 10:30 AM.  We got some really good grub for 1$ American.  We walked around.  It was sunny and hot.

Later in the day the whole gang got together: we got to know one another while seeing some of the touristy sites, such as a temple with a lot of monkeys running around (and one fat monkey sitting motionless) and the palace where the king lives.  We were told by one of the teachers with us that the king spends some time living at the palace, some time living in the South of France, and some time living at the palace of Kim Jong Il in North Korea.  Apparently Cambodia and North Korea are pretty good friends.

Later on that evening, we all ate dinner at a sort of fancy restaurant on the river.  All of the teachers were there.  It was at this dinner that I learned the following from Steve, one of the teachers, who hails from Ireland: Cambodians really enjoy automatic weapons, and carry them around in public; there is a shooting range near the airport where one can throw live grenades at live chickens, or purchase a cow and blow it up with a rocket launchers, or simply shoot M-16s and AK-47s.  According to Steve, Cambodia is “the wild west.”

But the thing about Cambodia is……everyone is incredibly friendly.  Guys try to sell you stuff on the street, but when you turn them down, they smile and laugh.  This is in part due to the insanely terrible past Cambodia has endured: in the 1800s, they were colonized by the French, along with Vietnam and Laos.  In the 1950s, they became an independent country when the French decided to abandon them and fight for Vietnam and Laos instead.  In the 1960s, over 500,000 tons of bombs were dropped on them by American planes, and fighting spilled over the border often.  In April 1975, as the Vietnam War was ending, the city of Phnom Penh was invaded by the Khmer Rouge, a radical Communist political party lead by Pol Pot, who had been living in exile in Hanoi to avoid being persecuted for his political beliefs.  Announcing over loudspeakers that American bombers were attacking the city, they evacuated everyone to the countryside.  Once everyone was out of the city, they were put to work on rice farms in order to “provide for the people.”

The Khmer Rouge probably had the sickest, most twisted view of Communism imaginable.  People were supposed to essentially become robots: anyone with any kind of education or independent thought was killed.  All government officials were the first to be killed: they were brought to S21, a high school in the city converted into a torture and death chamber.  They were interrogated and tortured, and encouraged to produce more “enemies of the people.”

Eventually, it stopped mattering entirely how fickle the excuse was: if you were different at all, you were killed.  All Vietnamese or Vietnamese sympathizers were killed.  Anyone with eyeglasses were killed, because they were seen as educated.  In the sickest of ironies, Pol Pot, along with the official who ran S21, were former high school teachers.  And they were killing anyone who was educated, or looked to be educated.

The Khmer Rouge ruled the country for three years.  During that time over 2 million were killed.  The entire city of Phnom Penh was emptied.  The people working on the rice paddies worked 14-16 hour days, and often died from horrible living conditions, too little food and water, or the brutality of the work.

The Khmer Rouge was at war with Vietnam for this entire time; when they invaded the Mekong Delta area and killed Vietnamese villagers, Vietnam invaded Cambodia and ousted the Khmer Rouge from power.  Pol Pot, along with others, fled to the jungle.  In a sad twist to this story, most of the Khmer Rouge officials who oversaw the killings never saw justice.  Pol Pot lived until 1998.  Today, the Prime Minister of Cambodia is one of the former Khmer Rouge head officials.

The Khmer Rouge was ousted in 1979, but the trouble didn’t end: people were still fleeing the country, mainly to Thailand, for a better life, ultimately in America or Canada.  The refugee camps were awful places, and often times were run by the Khmer Rouge, who were still active.

Throughout the 1980s, civil war tore the country apart.  Land mines were laid throughout the entire countryside, mainly on the border with Thailand, to keep people from escaping.  Today, there are still more than 6 million active land mines in Cambodia.  It is a serious problem in the northern part of the country: there is no good way to deactivate land mines in the jungle, and the people there have trouble living a sustainable life because of it.

Cambodia was still a very dangerous place through the 1990s; the war was officially over, but there was no real order, and violence was still rampant.  It really wasn’t until 2000 that the country started to pick itself up, and they’ve been slowly climbing ever since.

With all this in mind, it is amazing that it is such an optimistic country.  But optimistic is the only word that fits.  In the city of Phnom Penh, Tuk-Tuk drivers (the local taxis, attached to motorbikes) will flag you down for a ride; when you turn them down, they smile and laugh.  The people love love the fact that people from the Western world are visiting their country.  For a long, long time, it wasn’t even possible.

With all of this in mind, Cambodia is really a ‘new country’, re-born in 2000.  It is still very young, and trying to find itself.  There aren’t a lot of rules, but the people like that: they do not want any kind of strong government telling them what to do, understandably.  Its a great place to visit, and hopefully, in the years to come, it will continue to grow and mature.

—

On the Monday after arriving in Cambodia, we started classes.  At this point, jet lag and stomach problems were a main concern in my life: having English grammar classes could be hard to digest when either battling hallucination-enducing fatigue or explosively evil bowel movements.  But somehow….my notes turned out okay.

To Be Continued…..And Enhanced With Photos and Maybe Even Videos!

Until Next Time,

Greg