The word “home” is such an interesting word. I’ve met people who refuse to call anything other than the place they grew up “home.” I’ve seen others that say something along the lines of “home is where your rump rests.” After nearly three weeks trekking through jungles, forests, and oceans, however, I realized as I was speeding through a taxi at five in the morning that Shanghai has become “home” for me. The brightly lit skyscrapers, the loud arguments in a restaurant over who pays the bill, the gentle lanes of the French concession, and the roaring flow of all sorts of vehicles have become where I’m comfortable and relaxed.
Yet as I hear constant explosions from fireworks in a break from the rain, I’m sure that my reminiscence of a home aren’t really what people are expecting. I’ve been back in Shanghai for five days now, enough time to get back to work, go see a couple of favourite sights, an
d be thoroughly sick of people asking about why I’m limping. Eighteen days of vacation in Lao and Cambodia have taught me quite a lot about nature, war, and the nature of people. I loved every second of it, except maybe the moment I landed in the water after hurting my leg, yelling expletives at tropical fish. I’ll try and keep the summarization brief, but I make no promises.
We started off in Lao. We flew into the capital, Vientiane, which has been constantly described as a sleepy city. “City” is an extreme overstatement… I don’t recall seeing a street that was more than one lane in each direction, and it was more often than not that the streets weren’t paved (or if they were, very badly). We saw the Giant Golden Temple (AKA Pha That Luang), drove around the city a bit in our tuk-tuk, had the most delicious meal of my life, then moved on. We took a night-bus to Luang Prabang in the north, clocking in at about 14 hours due to a blown tire. The sun rose to show us a glimpse of the misty mountains covering that tiny town, one of the more majestic scenes I’ve ever seen.
Luang Prabang was a wonderful little town, filled to the brim with monks, friendly locals, and backpackers. We spent two days here, which was nowhere near enough but sufficient to solidify my love for this lazy
country. We wandered around to see all the magnificent temples, climbed hills, admired the river, and ate more delicious Lao food. The second day we went on an exciting tour to ride some elephants (no big deal), then see the breathtaking 50m Kuang Si Falls and swim in the turquoise pools (as well as swing in on a rope!). That night we tried Laolao, their national alcohol. I do not recommend it.
Our next stop was Vang Vieng, described beforehand as a backpacker’s haven. In arriving, the existence of this little town greatly puzzled me. In the middle of a heavily Buddhist country is this tiny street or two filled with bars showing Family Guy or Friends, hosting backpackers who are drunk or on some sort of mind-altering substance. They’re walking around in their bikinis or swim trunks, contrasting the few locals wearing clothes that
completely cover their arms and legs, despite the heat. Despite all of this, it was a relaxing three-day stop to enjoy the views, go caving, and then do the famous tubing down the river, stopping at bars as we went. Though we all agreed that if we ever get rich, we’re going to donate some money to repave the streets, which are so filled with potholes that it would probably be worth it to just rip up the whole street and reconvert it to a dirt road.
A day of travelling landed us in the south of the country in the 4,000 Islands. We specifically lived on Don Det, which had one small street of life before losing itself to the jungle and plains. It was even more relaxing, yet in a more in-touch with nature sort of way. We kayaked, biked, and lounged in hammocks sipping mojitos for two wonderful days. The islands had only gotten electricity a couple of years ago, and our guesthouse was a small shack on stilts surrounded by pigs. It was an adventure. Up to this point, we had met some travelers here and there, but this was the first time we had found another group to properly hang out with, which was nice. The problem with traveling in a group of 4 is you typically get your own room in hostels or guesthouses, and you tend to stick to yourselves.
This was our last stop in Lao. We started hearing about Cambodia, but I doubted if it could top my wonderful Lao. I loved the healthy, crisp food, the beautiful mountains and nature, the relaxed nature, and the friendliness of the people as they shared their culture with you. Alas, though, we packed our backpacks and took a day to travel down to Siem Reap, Cambodia. (And when I say a day, I mean literally – we left at 8am and arrived about 1am.) We received a lovely surprise when we got to our hostel after getting a semi-shady vibe from the town; we had a reservation, but no room. Thankfully the people were very apologetic and they let us sleep in the lobby before getting us a room about 7:30. Our room ended up being free for four nights, so while it would’ve only been three dollars a night per person, it was still a nice gesture.
Siem Reap itself was wonderful. We spent two days at the temples of Angkor, marveling at the ruins of the Khmer Empire and exploring through the jungle-ravished buildings. They were incredibly majestic and they made me continuously wonder about what we have in our w
orld right now. I highly doubt things like the Empire State Building or Yankee Stadium will still exist in a thousand years, and with the electronic age taking over, what physical remnants will people have of us? Other than the millions and millions of tons of rubbish and waste. It was an interesting thought. The third day we wandered around the town, going to the war museum to get our first taste of the depressing Cambodian history. Our tour guide was a war victim who had lost most of his family, started fighting when he was 13, and gotten injured twelve times, yet he was still smiling and telling jokes. After that we ate ice cream and headed out to a water-village, which was a Vietnamese tourist trap that I won’t get into.
Sihanoukville (or Snookiville, as we fondly called it) was a beach-lover’s paradise. Even though it supposedly doesn’t live up to the beaches of Thailand, I was in love with the clear blue waters, the white sandy beaches, eating dinner five feet from the waves as people set off fireworks, and the relaxed feeling of a beach town. My only complaints were the peddlers that continually harassed you as you tried to relax in a chair with your daiquiri, but you can’t have everything in life I suppose. It was still quite empty of tourists compared to other beaches. It was on day two of three that I hurt my leg. We were out on a tour to three islands; the first one we went out snorkeling, the second one we had a few hours to walk around, eat lunch (I ate barracuda!), and relax, and then the third was more snorkeling. I was jumping out of the side of the boat and my foot caught a plank on the be
nch; I slammed against the side of the boat, my whole leg twisted, and then I broke the wood and fell into the water, swearing loudly. I managed to get back in the boat, we iced my ankle and knee and pulled everyone back into the boat, and everyone was very helpful as we went back to shore. That night I couldn’t hold any weight at all on my leg, so I stayed home. The day after I managed to zombie walk (I literally limped while flailing my arms wildly) twenty-five feet to the tuktuk, then another twenty-five to sit on a beach chair all day. After that I could walk slowly but surely. Even now a week after, I still have a noticeable limp that makes me slower than everyone else, but it’s definitely improved. Thankfully I didn’t need to go see a doctor, since Cambodian medical services are less than ideal.
Our final bus was to Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia. This was the only real city we had seen the entire trip, but even then it was very much like Mexico seems; there was so much poverty you didn’t know what to do. We only had a day and a half there, but we saw enough. We drove by the major sights such as the Royal Palace, museums, and the riverside. Our one full day was dedicated to going out and seeing the Killing Fields, where you get an audio tour as you silently walk through the beautiful yard. It was a little disconcerting to have a disembodied voice telling you how many people were killed in the spot you were standing, and only thirty years ago, with the occasional stray piece of cloth or bone to back up the story. My imagination didn’t run as wild there as it did in the S-21 prison, which was filled with questionable stains on the floor, torture instruments, and wooden cells covered in scratch marks. Ice cream was needed after, but it definitely gives you some perspective. Then we went around town a little bit more before finally taking a red-eye home.
It definitely wasn’t a “vacation” in the traditional sense of the word. We did a lot of learning, and we were always on the move. Yet I think it was good to go to a place with so much fresh history, even if it is tragic. Even if my dad kept saying “You’re going
where on vacation?!” I think it’s important to see all of the world, the good and the bad. Overall, I liked Lao a lot more; I felt like I learned a lot more about their culture and their lifestyle. Cambodia, while I still liked it, was much more tourist-y and industrialized. The people in each country were absolutely wonderful, very kind and open. I’m glad I was able to see them before they truly become mainstream backpacker fare like Thailand has.
And such concludes my travel for now. We’re looking into next semester, since it says bright and clear on my New Years Resolutions to travel more. The main places in China I want to go to are Xi’an, Chengdu, Nanjing, and back to Beijing. We have three long weekends coming up, so we’ll see if I make it happen. Until then, you’ll just have to deal with my musings on life and culture.
, shuffling from station to station, doctor to doctor, for them to tell me that yes, I had a broken fibula, and then they stuck me on a cast from my toes up to my thigh. It wasn’t the being on crutches necessarily that got me down; once I got used to the upper-body workout, it really wasn’t that bad. The worst part was just the helplessness; I couldn’t carry things, I couldn’t open doors, it took me at least twice as long to get to places. Anyone who knows me can agree that I hate asking for favors, I hate being dependent on people, and I hate being taken care of. So having all of these traits thrust on me all of a sudden, with people that I love but I still feel like I shouldn’t be asking favors from in a country I’m still relatively unfamiliar with, was killer. I spent way too much time just hermitting in my office or my dorm.
