A lot has happened in the past few weeks, so it's gonna be a two-parter. Let's dive in.
My friend Ben was in Japan right when I was due to catch my flight, so we made plans for a meet-up.
He's part of berescullersutton (see 'Links'), artists that are Seattle's hot shit to everyone else's cold diarrhea (guys, feel free to use that in a press release or something). He was here to visit his lady-love Toshi, aka Cutest Girl In Japan. (I KNOW. Makes it a real bitch for the rest of us) They're getting hitched sometime in September and I'm vying to be their flower girl.
We hung out in their hotel room and did light calesthenics and watched TV.
We also had a threesome, but the flash wasn't working when we tried to take pictures. This is the 'after' shot.
It's not like we did anything too crazy. Ok, yeah, I got a little loud and obnoxious in a conbini. And yes, I did shove Ben in some bushes. But really, it was just a solid night of good eating and drinking and "Nah, man, you know what? You're the best. No, you! YOU, FUCKER!!"
The next day, we parted ways and I caught the Henry Darger exhibit at the Hara Museum.
I'm too lazy to tell you all about Darger's mysterious and hermetic life, so just google him. C'mon, it's worth it. The museum itself was small and not too slick, but it was refreshing to see a museum a little rough around the edges. I discovered Raynaud's Room and took a picture, even thought they told me not to.
After they chased me out of the museum for desecrating their precious room, I hopped a flight to Ho Chi Minh City. I couldn't sleep so I watched 'Dreamgirls' and wondered how Beyonce manages to look so vacant. I think the secret is wide eyes focused on nothing and a slightly slack jaw.
I arrived in Saigon (as the cool kids say) at 11pm, expecting to find in the hotel room champagne on ice and a naked Stevhan, since he was due before me. Alas, fate played a cruel trick on both of us and he was stuck in Hong Kong for six hours due to turf wars of the local triads. And landing gear problems.
But we were reunited and after 'enjoying' the 'air conditioning' in the 'bedroom', we managed to grab some coffee and catch a bit of Saigon before we hopped a bus to Cambodia. Stev didn't seem to understand that all you needed to say was 'No, thank you' to the street vendors. He'd spend twenty minutes telling a dude why he didn't need a pair of Ray-bans (he bought four pairs whilt in 'Nam).
Stev, baby. He's got mouths to feed and Ray-bans to sell. He doesn't have time for chit-chat.
Then we caught a glimpse of Notre Dame 2: Electric Bugaloo,
(Okay, I've seen that reference waay too many times. Last time I'll use it. Ever.)
and then we caught our bus to Phnom Penh It was a six hour ride through fields and farms. It's funny how I could immediately distinguish between Vietnam's countryside and Cambodia. Houses in Cambodia were mostly on stilts. Must be protection against the rainy season. Houses and fields showed mostly skinny cattle and the scrappy, naked kids tending them. Cambodia's poverty is apparent from a tour bus window. The only opulence we saw was in the temples.
But I could also see mothers playing with their fat babies, kids running around in gangs, and what looked like wedding celebrations. Those were the coolest. Bright yellow tents, hot pink bunting, girls in lime green party dresses. The 90s are alive and well in Cambodia.
I also wish you could see the pop videos they were playing on the bus. Apparently, Cambodian dudes are a bunch of wusses, always getting played by their girlfriends, and they're left crying with their guitars and backing vocals. It seems Cambodian girls are suckers for guys with gel in their hair and cars with power windows.
When we got to Phnom Penh, it was already evening.
Now, I expected to be hustled whilst in Vietnam and Cambodia and I was already used to shrugging off various offers from the motorbike drivers (Sorry, boys. I got my prostitute for the night), but nothing prepared us for when we got off the bus. We were swarmed by the tuk-tuk drivers, everyone shouting at once, grabbing our bags to put in their tuk-tuk ( a tuk-tuk is a motorbike with an open-air carriage attached to the back). Even after we snagged a driver to take us to our hotel, he asked us to hire him for the day tommorrow so he would have a job and feed his family. It's hard to be confronted with such desperation. It was a relief to be dropped off at our hotel. It was surrounded by large white walls and inside were lush gardens and a pool. We checked in and found a beautiful French colonial style room waiting for us. And then I felt like a dick for hiding out in this swank hotel (awesome what $50 a night will get you) while people were struggling to find work.
Yet, nobody's crying in their beer. Yeah, the drivers trying to support their families, but they also have time to shoot the shit with their buddies and maybe get a little card game going. Our driver, Mr Yaya seemed quite jolly and always seemed to be having some sort of hustle going.
His tuk-tuk had a little sign for all the sights,
which makes the city seem a tad macabre. Later, he had us buying his beer at his local watering hole, which was this gravel lot.
The place to be, apparently. I will be opening up a similar venture, as soon as I get a couple coolers, card tables, and some gas lamps.
The next day, we had time for a swim and breakfast by the pool before we took off to see a bit of the city. I mean, this has got to be one of the nicest hotels I've ever stayed in. And for fifty bucks! Fifty bucks in Japan gets you a dorm room with three loudly snoring Kiwis.
It was fun pretending to be rich n retarded while we sipped fresh orange juice poolside.
And then I had to ruin the fun by going to the Tuol Sleng genocide museum.
I'm sure you know about the Khmer Rouge and of some 2 million Cambodians. They turned one of the high schools into their main interrogation centers, which they used to torture and imprison men, women, and children.
I didn't take any pictures. At first, I thought it would be disrespectful. But even though the museum allowed photography, I still didn't pull my camera out. I guess it's because I felt that the things I saw in this place left so strong of an impression in my brain, I didn't need other reminders. The iron bedframes and dried blood stains. The pictures of schoolkids smiling into the camera. The photograph of the woman and her baby in a wooden cell and then later seeing that same cell. The place still retains a sense of fear and revulsion, especially when you see the tiny, cold cells and razor wire covering the windows. They had also recently dismantled a map of Cambodia made out of human skulls. It was depressing to see the museum in dissarray. Torn photographs had fallen on the floor, graffiti covered some exhibits. Such an important memorial is falling apart and the massacre seems to be fading from Cambodia's consciousness.
However, this car sticker helped lighten the mood:
I showed this to a co-worker and they're like, "Oh, Shin-chan!" Apparently, this is some character in Japan. Right. I shoud've known.
Afterwards, we went to the marketplace and picked up some rad shitty t-shirts. I got one of a poorly printed Tin-Tin that has now become my favorite shirt. We also grabbed lunch and a coffee at the stalls.
Note: there is no bad coffee or bread in Cambodia or Vietnam. The coffee puts hair on your chest and the baguettes are crunchy on the outside and fluffy on the inside. The people eating around us were helpful in showing us what to order (beef with lime sauce) and what to avoid (fermented fish paste).
Then we hopped a bus to Siem Reap. The six hour bus ride gave me enough time to think about my first impressions of Cambodia. Even though poverty is a glaring aspect of most Cambodians' lives, even though some try to play their plight into some kind of hustle (and why shouldn't they?), and even though there's a slight tinge of desperation in the air, people are living their lives as best they can. Yeah, duh. People looked in me in the eye and smiled. Schoolkids shouted "Hellohowareyou!!" Men strung up hammocks in the park and snoozed the hotter part of the day away. I don't mean to sound condescending or patronizing. It's just that this place and so many others I went to on this trip led me to so many realizations about how one lives their life, keeping one's dignity, moving past public and private tragedies, and and and... I still can't really sort my thoughts out properly. Let me get back to you.
And so, we drove on to Siem Reap, where I was to live out my Indiana Jones fantasy, Stev gets suckered by an eight-year-old, and we eat some bitchin' tacos (?!). More tommorrow....
No comments:
Post a Comment