Volleyball. It seemed that everywhere we went in Cambodia (which was admittedly limited to just the town of Siem Reap and then the road from there to the border town of Poipet), we saw games of volleyball being played. When we first arrived in Siem Reap, we took a walk around town. After crossing a bridge to the other side of the river, we saw a spirited game of volleyball being played. And then on the day we took a taxi to the border (to eventually return to Bangkok), I saw at least two games of volleyball being played out in the Cambodian countryside. It made me wonder how the Cambodian Olympic volleyball team fared in Beijing.
Asian tourists. In my previous trips to Central America, Europe, and Egypt, the great majority of fellow travelers (not that kind, silly) were Europeans. On this trip, it was quite different. Most of the tourists generally -- as opposed to the subgroup of backpackers -- were Asian: from my estimation, they were mostly Korean and Japanese. Of course among the backpacker crowd, the travelers were almost entirely "white," but even here a slim majority may have been Australian as opposed to European. One look at the map or a globe explains this phenomenon. Nevertheless, it was a new experience for me. As a final sidenote, I can count on one hand the number of Americans (i.e., from the USA) that we met on the entire trip. I guess the typical American tourists were all in Cancun or other Americanized neo-colonies: too scared, narrow-minded, or culturally conservative to step outside of their own culture.
Bangkok sidewalks. The transformation of the sidewalks of Bangkok over the course of a night is quite striking. In the normal hours of the night, up to midnight or 1am let's say, the sidewalks are characterized by streetside vendors selling souvenirs, t-shirts, and handicrafts. Besides that, there are handfuls of prostitutes on each block, just standing around waiting to be picked up by middle-aged white guys with lots of American dollars in their wallets. After 1am or 2am, though, as we realized when we took a cab at 4am to get to the airport, the sidewalks turn into a nocturnal, and much rougher-around-the-edges, version of Paris: by that I mean that there are lots of people still out drinking beers and smoking at tables all along the sidewalks. Believe me, this was more than just a couple of tables on one block; this was many tables block after block after block. By virtue of staying active throughout the nighttime hours, Bangkok must be classified as a world city.
Same Same But Different. That was a common phrase that we heard throughout all three countries of our trip. It was used in every situation imaginable. For example, you would ask if a certain dish tasted similar to pad thai, and the waiter would respond, "same same but different." It was funny, but vexing. But the phrase was so common that everywhere we went we saw t-shirts announcing it: "Same Same" on the front, "But Different" on the back. If you look closely, the girl on the right in this photo is wearing the t-shirt:
Prostitution. I guess it should come as no surprise that prostitution was prevalent where there were older, relatively wealthy tourists -- thus, in Bangkok and in Siem Reap, Cambodia. Although I have to admit that some of the prostitutes were quite pleasing to the eye, it didn't take long for me to feel disgusted by the whole scene: rich white guys basically "buying" companionship and sex from young women. But hey, that's capitalism, right? Money talks. I felt pity for most of these guys, who back home probably have no chance to get a beautiful woman. So can I blame them? Yes and no. And I pity the women too, because I wonder how many of them are pursuing any worthwhile goals, like education or an eventual career, while they sell their bodies; probably not too many, unfortunately. The whole situation is just shitty. I also thought of another byproduct: how many beautiful girls in Bangkok -- who are legitimately not prostitutes -- are eyeballed and objectified by old white guys who jump to the conclusion that they must be a whore because they're young and beautiful? Terrible, really terrible.
Ladyboys. Well, as long as we're talking about the openness of sex in parts of southeast Asia, we may as well talk about the openness of sexuality too. This is one thing that I felt was refreshing. For those not in the know, "ladyboys" are basically southeast Asian transvestites: men dressing like and adopting the mannerisms of women. Don't get me wrong, coming from a comparatively sexually-conservative culture like that of the United States, it was a bit weird to see the ladyboys. Here in Philly, it's easy enough to walk down to the Gayborhood and you can see all the transvestites that you'd like. But that's the big difference: here in the U.S. the places that sexual expressiveness is culturally acceptable are quite limited and the boundaries are clear; they're kinda like modern-day ghettoes (in the Jewish sense of the word). In southeast Asia, though, you could see a ladyboy anywhere. For example, the receptionist at our hotel on our first morning in Bangkok was quite androgenous; we really couldn't figure out that person's gender at all. And this openness of sexual expressiveness, without boundaries, was noticeable throughout much of our trip. Being the fan of freedom that I am, I found this facet of southeast Asian culture to be very refreshing and quite advanced of our culture in the United States.
French legacy. Continuing with my smooth segues, I'll dovetail off that last comment about culture in the United States with an observation of the cultural legacy of southeast Asia. In Laos and Cambodia particularly -- formerly colonized by the French -- you can see the lasting influence of French culture. Baguettes and crepes are common. Restaurants have French names. And not only that, but outdoor seating at bistro tables is widespread. And for the first time in my travels, I met a traveler who was French; her name was Anne-Sarah and she was studying law at a university in Can Tho, Vietnam. She was traveling with a group of fellow French students to Vang Vieng and Vientiane. Although the international lingua franca is now most definitely English, it seems that the French enjoy visiting areas that remind them, even a little bit, of home.
Backpacker circuit. Paul and I followed an itinerary that can be described as a big oval: from Bangkok, north to Chiang Mai, east to Luang Prabang, then south to Vang Vieng, Vientiane, Savannakhet, and Pakse, then southwest to Siem Reap, then west back to Bangkok. On the map it makes the most sense to follow this route, especially if doing most of it overland: by bus or train. And apparently we were not the only ones with this approach. When we were in Siem Reap, a girl came up to me at Temple Bar and told me that she remembered seeing me back in Chiang Mai. And from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng, we hung out with our Aussie friends, Nick and Josh, and our English friends, John and his girlfriend Jenny. And lastly, the French girl, Anne-Sarah, and her friends were on our minibus from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng, and I spent the entire 4-5 hour bus ride from Vang Vieng to Vientiane sitting next to and chatting with Anne-Sarah. The point is that, in southeast Asia, there is definitely a well-worn path which backpackers follow, what I called the "backpacker circuit."
Philly at Angkor Wat. Walking through one of the many temples at Angkor, I saw a Cambodian artist sitting on a rock, painting a picture; he was wearing a Philadelphia Eagles hat. I pointed it out to him and said "I'm from Philadelphia." His response was simply "godson", in the speech of a deaf man. I said, "ahh, your godson lives in Philadelphia," and he nodded his head. Later, as we were about to walk up the long and steep climb to the top of the tallest hill in the area -- where we were gonna watch the sunset -- I saw a guy in his early-20s wearing a red baseball cap. I was almost sure what it was, but I walked closer. Yup, it was a Phillies cap! So I approached him and said, "Phillies!" We talked for a few minutes. He asked me what it was like on the streets of Philadelphia when the Phillies won the World Series, he said he missed it because he was already in southeast Asia, I told him that it was mass joyful chaos, and I described the scene from Market Street and along Broad Street from that night. The guy said he lived in Northeast Philly. It was cool to see -- not once, but twice in one day -- Philadelphia being represented halfway around the world. Three cheers for the Two-Fifteen!
The Roots. Finally, speaking of Philly represent, I was at Temple Bar in Siem Reap when, over the loudspeakers, they played a song by The Roots. How appropriate: I graduated from Temple Law in North Philly and they were playing a song by Philly's very own hip-hop leaders, The Roots. Everything seemed just right at that moment, as I sipped on my Angkor beer, listening to "The Seed (2.0)", a great song that you can enjoy right now by clicking HERE (I couldn't find any videos that I could embed directly onto this website).
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