Adventures Abroad: Cambodia, Sihanoukville pt. 1

Adventures Abroad: Cambodia, Sihanoukville pt. 1

Sihanoukville, named after a Prince, is a really new city in Cambodia. It wasn’t established until the mid-1950s and during the Khmer Rouge it was kind of swallowed by the jungle again, but it is rapidly becoming a tourist hotspot.

To start our last weekend together we woke up to clouds instead of bright sunlight like we were used to. No matter, it was still warm and we were about to head to the beach. Now, when we went to Siem Reap we had a mini bus and it was juuuuuust big enough for us and one bag. This time, all the people going to Thailand have to bring all of their luggage, because Sunday morning they’re heading across the border to start their new adventure.

When I looked outside, expecting a bigger bus, I spied two ten passenger vans.

smallest%20car

This is going to be a very long trip.

And as more people come down with their luggage we all eyed the vans with increasing incredulity. Half of the people going to Sihanoukville were taking all of their luggage, the rest of us had our backpacks. And these two vans are just sitting there. I have to wonder if this is how bands feel when they go on their first tristate tour with all their gear and luggage. It seems to defy physics that all of this stuff is going to fit in these vans. I’m not above holding my bag, I did it when we went to Siem Reap, but we’re still looking about 10+ full size suitcases plus carry-ons and backpacks.

Just…how?

But they start taking luggage out and telling people to load up. They Tetrised the everloving shit out of that luggage. I was half-surprised the bottom layer of suitcases and backpacks didn’t blink out in a shower of stars as they packed them in there. It was something to behold. And by the gods, they crammed all of us in those vans, too.

 

clown
Given how many people they squeeze on a moto, this should not have surprised me.

Annnd we were off! Still pretty tired and the sky was still grey, but we were on our way to the beach! Trees and sand and the sound of waves and no diesel fumes! We just had to get out of Phnom Penh first.

Newest gritty reboot: Escape from Phnom Penh—will you survive the roundabout?

Again, I loved looking out the window. There are so many different facets to this city. Going even half an hour in any direction will introduce you to a new side of this city and these people. Phnom Penh is one of those places you can spend years exploring and still be surprised. On one hand you have almost gridlocked traffic and a police officer risking life and limb standing in the middle of the mess directing traffic and then a little further up the street you have the road down to a lane and a half because the morning market crowd has spilled over the confines of the shoulder and people are just slowing down and pulling over wherever they can. It looks like a biker rally with motos and scooters instead of Harleys and Indians. And even a little further down the road and suddenly these green fields open up and cows are grazing. Then there’s another little city cluster with buildings staked almost on top of each other and people selling fruits from small stands on the sidewalk and motos zipping back and forth and TukTuks.

 

20160212_123435
This picture is everything you need to know about Cambodia.

It was a really fun ride and when we stopped to for bathroom breaks and water I got even more of an adventure.

Squatty Potty.

Fact: If anyone tells you they went to SE Asia and didn’t use a squat toilet they are lying through their lying face.

So, check that off my SE Asia experience.

 

Southern Cambodia is very hilly and so lush with greenery and thick foliage it’s not hard to imagine you could go traipsing through that jungle and find a new species of something. It’s so lovely and the farther south we went the more the sun started to peak out. That cast some really dramatic shadows on the hills, the crown would be hit with sunlight but the valley below would still be in shadow. It looked like a fantasy world painting. Maybe the next thing I write will have a griffon or something hiding in the green hills of Cambodia. Or a Naga, that would be more appropriate.

Then, through the trees, glimpses of blue. Palm trees lined the road, not indicative of the beach, there are coconut trees all over the place, but pair that with the water and you could feel how damn close we were.

Through a dust-sand covered section of town that looked like most of the other tiny towns scattered about Cambodia and then the van made a sharp turn down a—shit you not—dirt road that looked more like a wide cow path. But on the horizon was sparkling blue and we were heading right for it. I don’t care if I have to unload and take a donkey the rest of the way, anything to get me there.

And we make another turn and the road dropped out from under us. This tiny, narrow little paved road snaked down the hill at a near vertical angle. Apartments built into the wall of the hill where this road had been carved had a view of trees and when the breeze was bright the sapphire blue of water.

In true Cambodian style, we blew out of that narrow alley with only a cursory honk and straight into the thick of traffic. Bigger than I had assumed it would be, it still can’t match the hustle of Phnom Penh, well, as much hustle as Cambodia gets. This is a beach town in the middle of the jungle and you can feel that everywhere. I really had the feeling that the people there were only just holding the jungle at bay. Like if they let up for even a day the trees would buckle the roads and sidewalks, shrubs would pop up on street corners, the colorful flowers they had planted would overflow their pots and take up residence in the cracks of buildings.

Twisting and turning down the streets we pulled into small courtyard and parked. Set back off the quiet street, our hotel was five minutes from the beach. Ready for water and sun, we couldn’t dump our bags and run straight into the water. Not all of our rooms were ready yet.

But we’re innovative and we want to go to the damn beach. Those who had their rooms ready stored luggage for those who were still waiting and we all changed. After liberal application of sunscreen were off and down that hill like greased lightning. The hill down the beach is lined with tiny cafes that reminded me more of Western Europe like Greece and Italy, also towering hotels that probably cost forty bucks a night and travel centers and small grocery shops selling food and swimsuits in the same display.

Sand! Glorious sand and the sound of water!

The only beaches I’ve been to are the Carolinas and Florida and there the waves come roaring in like freight trains and they body slam the beach every time they come in. Sihanoukville waves are much gentler. There was no roar, it’s more like a harsh whisper. And the sand was warm and the sun peeked out a little to really make the water shine. I’ve never seen turquoise water. In Sihanoukville the water is literally the color of gems and precious stones; lapsis, turquoise, sapphire. I see why people flock to beaches like this.

And the water was warm! Like a warm salt bath. Again, in the Carolinas the water is cold and in Florida unless you catch a warm current, it’s pretty chilly too. Not here. It was so nice. This is why people retire to places like this. I’d love to spend the rest of my life in this crystal blue warm water.

One thing the Carolinas have on Sihanoukville; Waves. I like the massive six and ten foot waves that come rolling in. Those waves that will steam roll you if you’re not paying attention and pummel you into the sand. I love those waves. I like it when the storms out at sea churn up the ocean and those dark waves rise up like the specter of Death and hit the beach with everything they have.

The quiet waves at Sihanoukville were nice though. Easy to float on.

I got lunch with a couple other girls at one of the many, many small restaurants lining the backside of the beach. These little businesses were crammed in right on top of each other but they didn’t overwhelm the beach like you get in US beaches. They were like small huts that blended with the jungle beach scenery. I got swordfish for the first time in my life. It was amazing. Cambodian cuisine doesn’t use a lot of spices so the natural flavors of the food really shine. I got a Yellow Submarine drink and one of the girls got a goddamn incredible strawberry smoothie. No one does smoothies like Cambodia. No one.

IMG_20160212_144816

Advertisements

Not Even A Little Bit

Not Even A Little Bit

 

We interrupt this travel blog to give you this tirade.

 

I’m in Yan’an—more fun posts about that later—and as part of my contract hours I have this class I “teach” called English Corner. I put Teach in quotations because it’s really just a promotional class for the school I work with. I’m supposed to introduce the kids to four new words and a sentence, but it can’t feel like an actual class, it’s got to be fun. It’s lots of games and showing off the foreigner to the kids’ parents.

I dislike this.

My school informed me on Monday, that this week’s English Corner was going to be in a different place. Now that it’s warmer, English Corner will now take place outside.

In the public square.

Huzzah

whiskey

So this week I really worked hard on what kind of games you can play with twenty and more kids outside in a public space where other people are also doing activities. I had a list of almost a dozen games, I had four words picked out, and I said “Fuck the sentence” because fucking hell, man.

When I do the EC, I have two Chinese Teachers who assist me. Now, the way I understood it as it was explained in training was that we co-teach like we do in the classroom. The Chinese Teachers teach the first part of the class—since most of these kids are beginner students to English—and I come in and we do games for the last half hour.

What I was told when I arrived in Yan’an was that I teach the entire hour and the CTs are just there as crowd control.

Again, Huzzah

I start to explain the games I have in mind to my primary CT and with each one she told me the ways she wanted it modified so the kids would be easier to control or “They’re not smart enough for this” (swear to the gods, this is a sentence I hear daily) or she flat out didn’t understand what game I was doing and told me not to do it.

She wants to do a song first.

Fucking hell, fine, if I have to.

Idontsing

She doesn’t like the idea of 4-Square, mostly because she doesn’t understand the instructions.

Hopscotch? Too many students—a valid point, but what if it’s modified—still no.

Sharks and Minnows, took me ten minutes to explain it but I got a yes.

When I started to get the kids set up to play Sharks and Minnows, modified to Crayons and Pencils, she decided that instead of having all the students rush forward she’d just do five at a time because “easier to control.” How about you just let the five year olds run around for ten minutes? How about that.

Fine. Whatever. I’ve got enough games to get me through the rest of this fucking hour.

And I did. The kids had fun, most of the thirty or so of them that attended probably learned a word or two, and even some of the parents played for a moment.

Now, Fridays we have our staff meeting. And by that I mean I have to go to the school at two o’ clock and sit for two hours while they speak Chinese about everything that’s going to happen over the weekend.

interesting

Today, the line manager took a couple minutes from the—no doubt interesting and informative—Chinese staff meeting to ask me how I thought English Corner went.

I thought it was fine.

“You thought it was fine? Well no. No it wasn’t. Foreign teacher supposed to lead English Corner and you didn’t. See, so no. It wasn’t even a little bit okay.”

 

vader
Go on, I’m listening.

Not even a little bit okay

Not even into the third week and they wanna play this game. Fine. I put up with your “suggestions” and ways to change games because I wanted to play nice. I figured, you know the students better than I do and these “suggestions” are ways to make the games fit the students. So I put up with it.

Honeymoon’s over, buckle up.

So-It-Begins

Not

Even

A

Little

Bit

Okay

You want me to lead English Corner, fine. We’re going to play the games I want to play and we’re going to play them how I want to play them. I don’t care if you think the kids will be too hard to control. I don’t care if you don’t think they’re smart enough to figure it out. I don’t care if you can’t figure it out. This is my fucking lesson and we’re doing it how I want.

I’m not your fucking show pony. You want a figurehead out there for the parents to ogle while you tell me what you want not only the English Corner lessons to look like but my regular lessons as well. The last teacher might’ve put up with the bullshit, but this one isn’t.

You told me it was my show and now it fucking is. And I don’t think you’re going to like it, not even a little bit.

Starscream_by_Peccadillos