Conflicts

It's amazing that there continues to be conflict all over the world.  It was like that when I was a little kid.  It's like that now.  Why should we believe that it's ever going to be any different?  Why is there conflict at all?  One answer is that we have free will.  Another is that, for all our similarities, we want to feel unique, so we play up our differences: nationalities, political parties, religions, skin color, et cetera.  By following our own human nature and playing up our differences, rivalries and tensions develop.  An 'us-versus-them' mentality develops.  So that's another answer to why there is perpetual conflict throughout the world.  Another answer is man's tendency toward sin and temptation: especially in the form of power (pride); this stems from man's natural insecurity, both materially as an animal that strives to survive at all costs, and emotionally as beings that compensate for internal insecurity by manifesting external power.

Another issue is that no relationship, nor anything at all for that matter, is static.  The universe is dynamic.  Your body and every person's body is dynamic.  People change and thus that makes the relationship between and among people dynamic.  I can think of easy examples in my own life right off the top of my head.  In fact, it's a theme that's been on my mind a lot lately.  I perceive that my relationship with my cousin Carlos isn't what it used to be or what it could be.  When I write a short note or message to him, his responses are either stock and pithy (the latest one was simply "gracias primo") or he simply uses an emoticon (usually a 'thumbs-up' icon) to acknowledge my note without having to engage in any substantive dialogue.  Assuming my perception is really accurate, I have no idea what's going on.  Is he jealous because I got married? and/or because I've become a father?  Did I slight him in some way the last time I was in Costa Rica?  I have no clue.  I suppose I can ask him what's going on.  That would be the mature, logical thing to do.  I think I may be afraid of the answer.  But then again, the cold hard truth should always be preferable to living under a hazy assumption, shouldn't it?

Next I think of my relationship with my friend Paul.  I still consider him to be my friend, though we're not as close as we used to be.  If you look back at previous posts here, around the 2008 time frame, Paul is a major player.  We spent a lot of time together.  We traveled together, to Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, to his parents' home in Tampa, Florida, and even to Costa Rica back in the day.  I had a close relationship in those days, the late 1990s through the entire decade of the 2000s.  I kept my mouth shut on certain things that concerned me, because I enjoyed my time with him.  We had fun together.  In a very real way, at a time when we were young adults, flexing our wings (if that's even a proper saying) and coming into our own, we were each other's family -- at a time when we needed to prove our individuality separate and apart from our own respective families.  But as time passed, and perhaps when I became more comfortable in my adulthood, or perhaps wasn't having as much fun spending time and traveling with him, or perhaps when I had met other friends and thus didn't feel like I needed or depended upon my friendship with him -- whatever the case was -- I felt that I needed to communicate with him my concerns about his beliefs as expressed in words: using the word "nigger" to pejoratively describe a dark-skinned American of African descent, then a couple years later using the word "dyke" to describe a female mayor of some northern New Jersey city, either Hoboken or Jersey City.  After each separate incident, I wrote a letter by hand and sent it to him, expressing my disapproval.  Was this the right approach?  I thought so.  I still think so.  But maybe not.  Should I have talked with him face-to-face?  My main takeaway, as I write this now, is that I shouldn't invest too much time in a friend with such negative, prejudiced, and outdated beliefs.  In short: surround yourself with good people.  But then I ask myself, who am I to judge him?  Be soft on the sinner, but not on the sin!  Did I practically give up a friendship for the foolish objective of proving a principle?

This tug of war between philosophical poles happens quite frequently in my head.  I think part of it is the guilt -- justified or not -- at having effectively ended a friendship.  I think the other part is a realization that life is not guaranteed to remain static, things will change, and this logically leads to a realization, whether explicit or implicit, that life will eventually end: after all these changes and changes, death shall come.

I've written previously that a break-up from a girlfriend is very analogous to these existential realizations.  The relationship died.  It's as if the ex-girlfriend is dead, although we know damn well that she's alive somewhere, probably with some other guy already.  A break-up is a foreboding of death.  It's a terrible feeling...to be reminded of one's own mortality.  And yet we're reminded of it all the time, whether looking outwardly at all the conflict in the world, the people, the children!, being killed in war, or whether looking inwardly to our own failed relationships.  What's the answer?  I can't say I know, other than to keep on living, find something to believe in, put one's gifts and talents to the best use possible to be productive and self-fulfilling, and be with (or be open to be with) someone you love and who loves you.

Runnin' on empty

I got food poisoning yesterday. I'm recovering now, but I'm really angry that the trip has to end this way. I'm not sure who or what I'm angry at, but it fucking sucks that my trip is ending on such a terrible note.

It began with the taxi ride from Siem Reap to Poipet, two towns in Cambodia, the former is where we had stayed for the previous three nights, the latter is the town on the Cambodia-Thailand border. Poipet is the stereotypical border town: dirty, dusty, and just plain nasty. Paul and I were fortunate to get hooked up by our remork (the Cambodian word for tuk-tuk) driver, Mr. Prom Meta, with a personal taxi ride to the border; Meta called up a Thai friend of his who then drove us the three hours to Poipet. The ride was through the Cambodian countryside, which was characterized by flat marshlands. The first two hours, from Siem Reap to the town of Sisaphon, was on a bumpy, rocky, dirt road; this is when I first realized that I wasn't feeling normal, because I could hear a lot of liquid sloshing around in my stomach with every bump in the road, which was literally constant throughout the ride. The ride from Sisaphon to Poipet was not as bad, because it was a paved roadway, but by then I knew that I had to get to a toilet as soon as we'd arrive in Poipet. When we got there, I went inside a hotel within 50 meters of the border crossing to use their toilet. The bathroom was nasty and looked as if it had been abandoned for a long time. There was no toilet paper in the men's room, so I went into the women's bathroom where I found a half-full/half-empty bag of napkins, which I took back into the men's room. This time I emptied my insides in a way that felt different that other times on this trip; even though I had diarrhea for many days on this trip, I never felt so terribly unwell as I did this time. Previously it was just a matter of letting loose and then going on my way, feeling better for letting it out. This time I still felt like crap afterwards.

We walked across the border and the barrage of putrid smells -- from garbage to fish -- began to make me feel nauseous. But I kept going, knowing that I had to reach my ultimate goal of making it to Bangkok, where we had a nice hotel, with all the amenities, already booked. We walked through customs, and entered Thailand. Upon walking out into the streets, we got a tuk-tuk, which took us the few kilometers to the bus station of the Thai border town of Aranya Prathet. We were just in time; a 4:30pm bus bound for Bangkok was already loaded and about to depart. So we quickly bought our tickets and had our luggage put under the bus. Taking our seats on the bus, it seemed like the ride would be comfortable.

But for me, it wouldn't be. Not long into the ride, I realized that any smell would begin to make me feel nauseous. Paul had bought some potato chips, and I didn't say anything to him (he still doesn't know now), but the smell was making me feel sick. It wasn't more than a few minutes later, while looking out the window, that I felt the sudden impulse to run to the bathroom; I made it just in time to puke for a few minutes straight. The last meal that I had eaten, breakfast at Angelina's in Siem Reap that morning, came out. I continued vomiting until nothing was coming up, and still I kept gagging. I felt like shit, hunched over because the ceiling was too short for me to stand up, in a cramped bathroom at the back of a bus in Thailand. And right then, I knew it was going to be a long bus-ride back to Bangkok; it was four and a half hours long, and we hadn't been on the road for very long at that point.

There is no point belaboring how shitty I felt for the rest of the ride, or how various smells continued to nauseate me. By the end of the trip, after other passengers had gotten off at earlier stops, I was sitting in the very back of the bus, in an open area behind where the bathroom was, gagging and spitting up the last of the fluids from my insides into a plastic bag that someone had fortunately left behind. I had tried drinking some water when the bus stopped for its only pitstop, and while sitting in the seat next to Paul, and I had started puking that water into a long-sleeve dress shirt that I had in my hands. The entire experience was wretched.

Upon arriving to the Bangkok bus station at around 9:30pm, we hired a taxi to take us to our hotel, Suk 11. That ride was about 20 minutes long, and was uneventful. Paul checked us into the room, while a woman at the hotel took me directly to the room, where I immediately dressed down into more comfortable clothing and settled in for a few minutes. When Paul came up to the room, I told him that I was giving in, and he gave me an antibiotic, Levaquin, to begin killing the bacteria in my system. Then I got up to take a long, warm shower, and then got into bed. At that point it was probably 10:30 or 11pm. I stayed in bed for the most part until almost 12noon today. I only got up once in the middle of the night to puke out the one slice of white bread that I had eaten earlier in the night and the bottle of green gatorade that Paul had gotten for me.

Relative to that entire experience, I'm feeling better today. Thanks to God, I'm holding food and drink in my system today. I've drank some more gatorade and eaten some more white bread, and just before coming to this internet place, we went to a Starbucks, where I drank some hot English breakfast tea, and ate a cinnamon bun. I'm sure I've lost a couple more pounds in the past 24 hours. I'm happy to be ending this trip and returning home. A comment that I made to Paul earlier today is really unfortunate: I told him that I don't think I'll ever come back to this part of the world; out of 16 full days here, I had some degree of diarrhea for all but probably five days, that's not my idea of a good time. But I guess that's what I get for trying to eat the local food and for not being a tight-ass about washing my hands every two minutes. I don't mean to discourage anyone for coming to this part of the world. And maybe I won't feel so bitter once I'm home and I'm able to re-read this blog and look at all the photos from this trip. I guess you can just say that I'm ready to go the fuck home. I miss Rocky and the Baby. And I miss my regular and humble life at the double-deuce and Spruce. I guess I can really say, "there's no place like home, there's no place like home."

Anyway, I may post once more later tonight; I leave to go to the airport at around 2 or 3 in the morning. My flight out of Bangkok departs at 6am, then I'll have a layover in Tokyo, and then it's on to Newark-Liberty International Airport, in beloved New Jersey. The flights will be about 6 and 14 hours respectively, so I'd appreciate your prayers that I maintain my constitution throughout the flights and continue to feel and get better quickly. Once again, thanks so much for keeping up with my travels. I look forward to seeing and talking with everyone once I'm back home.

Philly, here I come!!!!!

On the road again

I'll have to post a more complete blog entry later tonight, but for now Paul and I will be leaving momentarily to once again hit the road. We're leaving Siem Reap, and all of Cambodia, to head back to Bangkok, Thailand. Thus, our trip is about to come full circle. It's gonna be another long travel day, as we've gotten somewhat used to doing: 3 hours or more from Siem Reap to the Cambodia-Thailand border in a taxi, then 4 hours or more on a bus from the Thai border town of Aranya Prathet back to the capital city of Bangkok.

Yesterday we spent the entire day, from sunrise to sunset, at the temples of Angkor Wat. I'll have to write some details about that later, but if you haven't been there before, I'd suggest that you look at some photos online to familiarize yourself before the written word comes later; just a suggestion, that's all.

Okay folks, hope you're happy and healthy, or at least moving positively in that direction. I'll write again soon, God willing. Peace!

R & R

Today was a day of rest and relaxation. Our marathon traveling, on buses and planes, definitely caught up to us. We were gonna wake up at 8am this morning, but we never heard the alarm (if it even went off in the first place). We woke up on our own a little past 10am. So we decided to just bum around the town of Siem Reap today, which wasn't such a bad thing. We went for a really good breakfast at a place called Angelina's, which I assume was named after Angelina Jolie, who came here to film the movie Tomb Raider at Angkor Wat and also to pick-up a child to take home with her too. After breaking our fast, we went to Blue Pumpkin, a fancy-looking cafe, but with refreshing coffee products for about US$2 each and very easy-to-look-at-and-talk-to (too many dashes) Cambodian waitresses. The rest of the day went by as a blur of just walking around, going back to the room to fall asleep while listening to tunes, then walking to the Lucky Mall where we acted like goobers (as Evan would say) by going up and down the same escalator at least 20 times -- no exaggeration; everyone was laughing at us, even the security guards. After that, we walked to a nearby Thai restaurant to eat some pad thai. Tonight we went for just a couple drinks at the Banana Leaf, a nice spot located on Pub Street (a kind of Bourbon Street type atmosphere sans beads). Well, as you can probably tell, I'm a little too tired to type tonight, plus its gonna be a 5am wake-up to go to see the sunrise at Angkor Wat tomorrow morning. Hope all is well wherever in the world you happen to be!

See, we made it to the C in TLC

Cambodia. More specifically, the town of Siem Reap.

Immediately after signing out of this 'ere blog last night in Savannakhet, Paul and I deliberated our choice of options. Option #1: stay in Savannakhet for the night, take a bus to Pakse, then try to figure out how to get from Pakse, Laos to Siem Reap, Cambodia, a pretty good distance apart, including an overland border crossing. Or, option #2: leave immediately on a 9:30pm bus from Savannakhet to Pakse, Laos, go to the Pakse airport, and see if we'd be lucky enough to buy plane tickets for a 10:30am flight from Pakse to Siem Reap, Cambodia, the next flight not being until Thursday.

We chose option #2. Although we were still pretty wiped out from being dropped-off at the side of the road outside of Savannakhet at 2:30 in the morning less than 24 hours earlier, we decided that the benefit to gaining a lot of time -- with much less hassle -- by flying to Cambodia outweighed the cost of pushing ourselves back on the road so soon.

The bus ride from Savannakhet to Pakse was about five hours long: 9:30pm to 2:30am. It was more comfortable than the hellish bus ride the previous day from Vientiane to Savannakhet. But, for me at least, there was one pretty good highlight. So I'm sitting toward the back of the bus, on an aisle seat near the stairwell that led down to the lower deck (it was a double-decker bus). Sitting next to me on my left was the stereotypical small, gray-haired, old Asian guy. Over the course of the trip he took off his sandals and his legs were short and frail enough to pull them up towards his chest and rest his feet on the edge of the seat. Anyway, about three hours into the trip, the old guy slides open the window next to him, grabs a plastic bag from the ledge in front of us, and tosses the contents of the bag out the window. I kinda chuckled at that. Oh, by the way, the bus was completely dark, as there were no street lights on Route 13, there were no other vehicles on the road besides our bus, and all the lights on the inside of the bus were turned off so people could sleep -- the only light was from the headlights of the bus and the moon high overhead. So that's the set-up when this old guy is holding the now-empty plastic bag in his hand; he then inches up to sit on the very edge of his seat, and angles his body slightly toward the wall. He sat in that position for a solid 30 seconds or more, then cautiously took the plastic bag filled with his warm piss, held it out the window, and let it fly. He sat back with a look of contentment, and I just laughed to myself.

For the second night in a row, Paul and I were dropped-off on the side of the road in the middle of the night. We were on Route 13 -- the major north-south artery in Laos -- just outside of Pakse. A Laotian guy who I had been joking with showed me his watch, and it read 15 minutes to 3am. Paul and I sat there as there was an intermittent light drizzle, until finally, about half an hour later, I was able to wave down a motorcycle with a sidecar, the driver willing to take us to the Pakse airport. But he was already taking another fellow who had to sit behind him, while Paul and I squeezed into the narrow sidecarriage, and our bulky backpacks had to be strapped to the back. We were dropped-off outside the airport, which was closed, at about 4am. We had no choice but to rest/sleep under an awning of a wooden shack on the side of the road across from the airport. I barely slept because the mosquitos began to harass me a bit. I watched the sun rise over the Laotian countryside.

We were successful at buying tickets for the 10:30am flight from Pakse to Siem Reap: US$106 each. So that now brings us to our arrival here in Cambodia. We're now staying at the River Star Hotel, right in the center of town for $15 total per night, with air-conditioning and cable television. We're within easy walking distance of tons of bars and restaurants. And I got the business card from the young guy who drove us from the airport to downtown, in case we decide to take him up on his offer for a discounted rate to drive out to the temples of Angkor Wat.

Anyway, Paul just came up to me here in the lobby of the hotel. We're gonna head out now to get a bite to eat and get things rolling for the evening. By the way, please click HERE to visit Paul's blog; his goal is to get 1000 hits before the end of the trip, so he'd appreciate your help in his cause.

Alright folks. Peace in the Middle East. Health in the Illadelph. I'm audi!!!