nilonilonilo

Dedicated to my dear friend and mentor, David J. Berliner, Associate Professor of Anthropology, Laboratoire d’Anthropologie des Mondes Contemporains, Université Libre de Bruxelles

During the course of my travels, after a whole lot of intense, in-depth, even, I dare say, highly scientific research (it’s not all fun and games here!), I have managed to further distinguish four subtypes of travellers:

•  The complainers: generally 55 or older, travelling in groups of six or more, and French. (Seriously, this is no joke, spot a group of elderly tourists and 9 times out of 10 they are from France.) They come to third world countries and then complain all the time because things don’t live up to western standards: the bus is not comme ci, the room is not comme ça, the food is franchement dégueulasse, sacrebleu! Erm, hello, reality check: you are not in western Europe but in a developing country, mon cher ami. Moreover, they still expect everyone to speak French. Can somebody point out to them that French is no longer the lingua franca of the world, at least not since the Second World War? And that after they got their ass kicked in Dien Bien Phu in 1954, we now speak of Southeast Asia and no longer about the French colony of Indochine. (At the same time though, it has to be said, respect to them: at least they travel out to places such as Laos and Vietnam, instead of staying at home or going to pensioners’ holiday clubs like most other people their age would do. So kudos for that.)

• The “big camera, small dick” type. No further explanations necessary, I believe. Although maybe someone could explain them that with their camera, there was a manual, and in the manual, they can read how to turn off the flash. Maybe that way, Buddhist monks who collect their alms early in the morning, performing an age-old religious ritual, are not blinded by their constant flashing. For chrissakes, it’s not Disney’s Parade on Main Street.
• The cretins: a subset of the larger backpackers group. Typically in their early twenties, and usually Australian (Southeast Asia, it seems, is something of a summer playground for young, boisterous Aussies) or British. Can easily be recognised as they are always wearing swimwear and goofy hats and/or sunglasses, even in places where this is highly inappropriate or when the prevailing temperature would induce sensible people to wear at least a few extra layers. The cretin is either drunk, on his way to get drunk, or recovering from his previous bout of drunkenness. They are often found wandering around with a bottle of beer in their hand, even at places such as a local market in a non-touristy neighbourhood in Bangkok or in some swimming pools underneath a waterfall in a beautiful natural setting. Dude, I know the beer is cheap, but do you really have to? I’ve seen a particularly nasty specimen, who was actually working in a backpackers’ hostel in Hanoi, obviously still drunk from his night out, who thought no better than to sexually harass his Vietnamese colleague. Rarely have I felt so ashamed of being a westerner.
• The thrifty ones. Now, this is a touchy subject. I realise there’s a fine line between being on a budget and being downright stingy. Personally, I’m not on the tightest of budgets, I can travel quite comfortably (though not in luxury) and splurge occasionally, and I should not look down on those who really have limited resources. However, being on a budget should not be a reason to constantly bitch about prices, about how “expensive” everything is, about how everybody is always trying “to rip you off”. Of course, it won’t happen to them ‘cause they’re not a stupid tourist and they are adamant they will pay “the local price”.

OK, so I still have so many things I want to write about Laos and about how great it was, but I hardly ever feel like sitting down and trying to get it all into nice, properly structured, pleasant-to-read sentences. So if and when I will still write about it remains to be seen for now. (Heck, I still want to write about Pondicherry, it was such a cool place.)

But I thought it would be cool to write to more up-to-date posts about my whereabouts, guessing it’s probably a little more interesting for you 7.3 readers out there. So here it is: a short, not too well thought out, unreviewed (though I will check for spelling) post about my Cambodian part of the trip so far.

It’s weird, I’ve been here for just over a week, but I feel like I haven’t seen all that much here yet. Somehow, as soon as I got into Laos, I got a feeling I was tucking into real, authentic Lao village. Here, it feels like there’s more distance.

Crossing the border was an extremely shambolic affair. All in all it took about 12 hours (5 hours of travelling by boat, pick-up truck, minivan, bus, 7 hours of waiting) to get to Banlung, my first Cambodian stop. A dusty place if I ever saw one. Everywhere there’s this fine red dust, kicked up in big clouds as you race along the unpaved roads in the bus or on the back of a moto. Did a two-day trek there though it was nothing spectacular, just two days of thrashing through the forest. The guides were fun though, the food was good, and I’m always happy when there’s a place to swim. Banlung also has a volcanic crater lake, though if you didn’t tell me it’s a volcanic crater, I would never have known. But once again: swimming -> happiness. It’s absolutely scorching around here, around 35 degrees everyday, so every way of cooling down is welcome.

From Banlung it was a long bus ride to Kompong Cham, a town smack in the middle of Cambodia where I broke up my journey to Siem Reap. I don’t know anything about the attractions there, cause I spent the whole end of the afternoon and evening on a nice terrace by the Mekong with a bunch of American Peace Corps volunteers and a Belgian girl from Leuven/Brussels, same age as me too, that I met on the bus. It seemed like a nice enough town though, very Cambodian, would have been nice to stay another day but I already planned to travel early the next morning to Siem Reap, where I am now.

Siem Reap, doesn’t feel Cambodian at all. It’s one of those generic towns that are entirely geared to tourism. 8,000 hotel beds, there you go. Hundreds of bars and restaurants serving happy ba rangs (in Cambodia they say ba rang, not fa rang). It’s weird, seeing so many people with their feet in fish tank to get a Dr. Fish foot massage: have little fish nibble away at the dead skin on your feet. Some places with a sense of humour put up an extra sign: “no piranha”. The town is full of supermarkets fully stocked with western products, a funny sight. But your Barilla pasta, Cote D”or chocolate and Parma ham come at a price. (1.50 dollars for a Kinder Bueno, should you be interested.)

So yeah, in itself Siem Reap is totally negligible. The reason Siem Reap attracts so many visitors though, is definitely a valid one: the temples of Angkor. They are absolutely amazing: a series of temple ruins stretching out over a vast area in the jungle, right up there with the Machu Picchus and Tikals of this world. They were one of the two main sights that drew me over here to Southeast Asia (the other one being Halong Bay in Vietnam). And they didn’t disappoint me. The Indiana Jones in me was very happy today exploring several of the sites, with giant trees growing over the stones etc. (Anyone seen the Tomb Raider movie? It’s that jungle temple.) The size of these things is amazing. As I walked in through the main gate of Angkor Wat, I got that same kind of rush as at the Taj Mahal. Going back tomorrow actually to explore some more sites more in-depth still. Together with thousands of others probably. Yep, if you want loneliness, it’s not the right spot. But it’s OK, if you focus on the temples, and not on the crowds or trying to get perfect pictures with nobody else in them, it’s not too bad.

So yeah, one week in Cambodia. It’s HOT. Even just sitting still and doing nothing, you sweat like a pig. It’s, flat, dry, yellow, parched. It hasn’t rained since November/December, and it won’t rain for another three months or so. I thought this would be a country of thick, lush green jungle-clad hills, but it isn’t. Deforestation is a major issue here.

The food is more interesting and varied than in Laos, but the drinks (fruit shakes, ice coffees, beer) are not as good. Perfectly sweet mangoes everywhere, and tamarinds, mmmmm. I wish I could cut mangoes like the locals do. I wish I lived in a place with ripe juicy sweet mangoes everywhere.

Cambodia seems a little bit cheaper than Laos, which really wasn’t expensive either. Some things on sale here are so cheap, it’s actually embarrassing. And yet once still has the tendency to haggle… Around here in Siem Reap, everything is super commercial of course, but in other places there should be less hassle - this is not yet Vietnam. People are really friendly in general, always smiling.

Less than three weeks left here in SE-Asia! Going south from here, to the capital Phnom Penh (gotta watch where to put those h in there!), and then to the coast, maybe spend a few days on an island in Thailand too, depends on how slow I go here in Cambodia. Red and Yellow shirts are still protesting in Bangkok, hope they don’t block the airport again like last year…. Then on to New Zealand. That earthquake stuff is messed up! Trying to plan my trip there, but it’s hard without a travel guide. (They don’t have the pirated version of the latest issue yet, and you can’t buy real Lonely Planet guidebooks here…)

OK, that’s it for now, in the end it’s not so short. Gonna take my third shower of the day now. Did I mention yet it’s hot here?

Rarely have I been in a country where I felt so at ease, so at peace, so relaxed as in Laos. This place has some serious stress-reducing capacities. I am off to the 4000 Islands now, my last stop before crossing the border south to Cambodia, for some more intense relaxing (think hammock, books, not much else). But as said, the past few weeks weren’t exactly stressful…

I will have used up all but one or two days of my 30 day visa, and I could easily have spent more time in this country. There are so many places to see and things to do, and also lots of places to just kick back and not do anything!

Life goes at a slower pace here, to the rhythm of the many rivers flowing through the towns and villages. (It’s dry season anyways so water levels are really low and flows nearly non-existent in many places.) Even the capital Vientiane had an utterly laid-back feel to it, and if it weren’t for the fancy coffee shops and restaurants, you would never guess that you were in a capital city. Savanakhet, the second city of the country, just looked and a felt like a sleepy village.

The people here are without a doubt some of the most friendly and lovely I’ve ever met. I’m always wary about general characterisations of people as a whole, but this time it’s really true. They’re extremely welcoming and kind, especially in the smaller villages, where everywhere you go you’ll be greeted with a “sabaydee” and a smile. Hordes of kids (there are MANY kids in Laos) will come up to you, not to ask for pens or money, but just to look and giggle at the “fa lang”. On many occasions I’ve been asked to join people at their table, even though they don’t speak English and my Lao is non-existent, and I would be offered some food, a glass of beer or a shot of “lao lao” rice wine. On one such occasion though, when I was cycling through a village and I was motioned over by a large group of men sharing a communal meal, I found myself dipping my ball of sticky rice in what looked like a red chilly sauce, but on closer inspection turned out to be undecipherable bits and bobs of meat drenched in pig’s blood. Hurrah for authentic experiences with the locals!

So I visited India twice in two years - pretty crazy if you come to think about it. Last year I stayed in the north, this year I’ve only been in the deep south.

Last year:
- A euro was worth 66 rupees.
- You could still find chai in clay (biodegradable!) cups in places.
- I used cutlery all the time and saw a lot more squat toilets.
- I only took long overnight train rides (minimum 8 hours) and always travelled in the more luxurious AC compartments.

This year:
- A euro was only worth 60 rupees. Bummer.
- Chai always came in paper or plastic cups (that is, the throwaway versions; many stalls use glass cups too and wash them).
- I ate with my hands nearly all the time, and found western toilets nearly everywhere.
- There were only short train rides (the longest one was 7 hours), always in the general sleeper or second sitting class. We also travelled a lot on local (= rattling, slow, uncomfortable) buses.

All in all, I’d say that the south is a lot more relaxed, less stressful than its northern counterpart. There is way less hassle, people try less to rip you off. As somebody from Chennai put it, they “are a little bit more law-abiding”. They even queue in the train station! Also, a lot more English was spoken, probably because Hindi is not as prevalent as in the north - in the south every state has its own language and a different, elegant and curly alphabet. People tend to be a little more educated, especially in Kerala, where they have a nearly full literacy rate and the standard or living is amongst the highest in India. It’s not unlike in Kolkata and the state of West Bengal, which is also quote cultural and seems to have a higher level of education. Some say it’s because both in Kerala and West Bengal, people eat lots of fish, and fish makes you smart.

The food in the south was great, almost exclusively vegetarian, with hearty thalis, doses, idli, uttapams, … Be it from street stalls or proper restaurants, it was usually very good. And then there’s chai, always chai. The nectar of the gods it ain’t, and it’s probably not very good for you. But a day without chai was not a good day.

In between Kerala (far southwest) and Tamil nadu (far southeast), there are notable differences too. First of all, if you look on Google Earth, you’ll see how green Kerala is, whereas to the east of the Western Gats (the mountain range that runs along the border) it’s much more yellow and dusty. Kerala is all about nature and has some fine beaches, whereas Tamil Nadu is more about temples and Hindu culture. It’s a lot poorer, grittier, rougher, and sometimes it felt less friendly than its neighbouring state to the west, but I think this was mostly due to the language barrier (less signs in English etc.) and a lesser developed tourist infrastructure. When you managed to get through to them, the smiles from the Tamil Nadu people were just as big.

Apart from a short night in Delhi and three days in Karnataka, I spent all my time in India in these two states, and it was a good time. I really liked the south, its green, tropical surroundings, and its somewhat more relaxed atmosphere. But don’t be fooled, this is still India: the cities and towns are always full-on, frenetic, crowded, shockingly dirty sometimes, and loud. The cows are everywhere, privacy is inexistent and traffic is a nightmare. But just go with the flow and enjoy!

I tried really hard to enjoy Vietnam, but it wasn’t easy, and in retrospect, feelings are seriously mixed.

First of all, I didn’t time my visit very well. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt from my short stay there, it’s that winter is not a good time to visit northern Vietnam. From the grey, chilly days in Hanoi to the absolutely miserable wet and cold conditions in Sapa in the mountains - ultimately it gets you down. There is no heating anywhere, so whether you’re inside or outside doesn’t make a big difference. Remedies include taking long brisk walks, numerous bowls of hot noodles (I had lunch twice a day in Hanoi, it felt like the only way to keep up my energy levels), or snuggling up under the blankets.

Secondly, the way the tourism industry works here. It’s an intense, hard sell. Vietnam may be a socialist republic with hammers and sickles everywhere, but they are very keen for your dollars. It’s a hyper commercial atmosphere that pisses of more than one traveller. Even so I don’t want to be like so many others and complain about being ripped off all the time and being paranoid about paying the right price for things. It just seems though that Vietnam is intent on exploiting its tourist potential to the max.

Take Halong Bay - seeing a picture of this amazing landscape first triggered my interest in going to Vietnam two and a half years ago. But once you get there, you notice that many other people had the same idea (and who could blame them? It’s a stunning place), and dozens of tour operators have hundreds of boats sailing around there. You have to queue to visit the caves, old ladies will come and sell you stuff quite aggressively, and it was pretty cold and hazy too - the promised spectacle of every shade of green and blue was a rather dull monochrome affair, and the sun deck on our boat went by largely unused. A perfect example of the combination of factors that made my visit to Vietnam less than stellar.

Sapa was the other place I really wanted to see. But this phrase I heard from another tourist exactly sums it up: “I was really looking forward to coming here, but now I can’t wait to get out.” It’s supposedly a great place for trekking and visiting villages with ethnic minorities, and Vietnam’s highest mountain is right round the corner (though I didn’t see it since it was shrouded in perpetual mist), but it was just miserable: freezing cold, wet and misty - you couldn’t see a thing. I did a short guided walk to three villages (anything was better than staying in a freezing, damp room). You do get to meet tribal people, the women still wear their traditional dress, and it was fun being escorted by two grannies, one on each hand, along the slippery, muddiest path ever, but then in the end of course you had to buy something from them…

After Sapa I made the long, tiring two-day journey in cramped minibuses to Laos, and it seems that amongst those who made the trip, there was a feeling of relief when we arrived in Muang Khua, a peaceful little Lao village by the river where the sun was shining and nobody tried to sell you anything.

Not everything in Vietnam was bad though. On my first night there, I met up with a German couchsurfer I randomly ran into on the streets of Vancouver three and a half years ago. She’s living in Vietnam now and happened to be visiting Hanoi exactly on the day I arrived! One of the weirdest coincidences ever. We went to the water puppet theatre, which I thought was great fun. I also had an amazing meal with another couchsurfer living in Hanoi, and I enjoyed exploring the street food stalls. I visited the embalmed body of Ho Chi Minh (did Lenin in 1997, up next: Mao?) and played badminton with some locals in the park. Every single place I stayed at had WiFi and I did some shopping (yay for North Face factories in Vietnam!). Hanoi is probably a good place to live too, with many fine restaurants and cafes (but the worst.traffic.ever).

But yeah, if I’m really honest, Vietnam didn’t really live up to my expectations. Maybe next time I’ll come in the right season and ride a motorbike across the country - that seems like the fun thing to do…