For Just One Day

January 3, 2008

Never in a thousand years did I think I'd be spending New Year's in Cambodia. I'm much too old for the party, techno scene, and in recent years I haven't made it to midnight, which has been fine with me. Liz, Abby and I planned to have a Mexican Fiesta (as a bit of a joke) for dinner, top it off with some margarita's and then usher in the New Year on Pub Street in Siem Reap, home of the famous Angkor Wat Temples. As we sat down at Viva, we took a table outside, knowing full well that we would be hounded by street beggars and the kid con-men that come by selling whatever they have. Surrounding us were tourists with their party hats on, glimmering under the low-lit street lights. As soon as we sat down, three young street kids came and stared at us. Liz, being the friendly, outgoing, compassionate person she is, started talking to the kids. She immediately asked if they wanted something to eat.

What you need to know about Cambodia is that it is poor--the poorest place I've ever visited. And Siem Reap is world's better than Phenom Phen, where we stayed for 3 days (2 days too many). We read that it's better not to give the street people money but rather to give it to places that can distribute the money to the poor. The idea is to not perpetuate the begging, and in my view, they don't want the tourists to be "turned off."

The kids, a 12 year old boy, an 11 year old girl and an 8 year old girl, immediately said yes. They were small children. The 8 year old looked as old as the 12 year old. They were dirty and barefoot in the trash and urine that dominates the streets. I hesitated, not knowing if the restaurant would mind, but Liz was having none of it and directed me to grab a couple of chairs as the kids would be joining us. Not long after, the wait staff was looking at us strangely and amusedly. They didn't seem to believe what was happening. All the partiers and tourists would never do this. Before we could even look to see what they were getting, they were ordering their food. We sat there with them and spoke in broken English as they repeated everything we were saying to them. "Hello. Thank you. I'm good." They were possibly the cutest kids we had ever seen. The 8 year old was missing both her front teeth and had black curly hair and the best smile you have ever seen. She was smart, copying every word we wrote on the paper with great concentration. The 11 year old was quiet but kept an eye on her brother and her cousin. Her shy smile was innocent, which is not a common sight in Cambodia. We wondered where their parents were. We wondered why they were on the streets. We wondered if they had been part of the devestating sex industry that rules the country. We hoped for the best for these children although we knew that after this night, after one night of not having to beg, that they would be destined for a life going nowhere, with no future in sight. We rang in the new year with roman candles and lots of drunk tourists dancing around to techno music and stood there and watched, then headed back to the guesthouse a little after midnight. We told the kids to meet us at our guesthouse the next day at 10am so we could buy them clothes and shoes. They must've understood because when we came back from breakfast they were there waiting, with another little one in tow. This little boy was 4 and was just as cute as the other ones. The kids were cleaned up, and we were surprised (and pleased) that their mother was along to see what people were taking their kids all around town. We did wonder where she had been last night but at least she was here. We took the kids to eat in the market and, as we sat with the locals the kids ate and ate. You could see the tight sense of family as the 12 year old boy fed his cousin and cleaned his face off, which was covered in pieces of rice. We let the kids finish but not before some weird whispers and words from the young guy sitting across from us. He would look over at me and say something I couldn't understand and then giggle and give me a creepy smile. I'm sure it was something about being a white male in his 30's with young Cambodian kids and sex. It seems to be completely okay with the general population, but that is another story all unto itself. After we left the table, we headed to get them some shoes but detoured to the sunglasses case where we thought, "why not?" and bought all the kids sunglasses. Most people don't wear them here so it was a nice treat for them, and they loved it. Next, it was time to try on shoes. We took up the entire aisle of the market, and since the kids didn't have shoes anyway, we had them pick out what they liked and of course sized them up and had shoes thrown everywhere in the aisle at the market. We didn't care because we wanted these kids to have one normal day of being just a kid. After we bought them shoes, we headed directly to get them a new outfit. I felt a little out of place, but the girls did a great job in picking out cute clothes and helping the kids dress. I had to get Liz to help me take the 12 year old to get an outfit, as I felt like I would get looks of disgust picking out an outfit for a young boy. The kids tried on all sorts of clothes until we found the ones that looked the best. The 4 year old didn't care and just did what he was told and looked absolutely adorable in anything he tried on. They were happy and being kids. They certainly knew what was going on and just seeing the smiles on their faces was thanks enough. They were happy. I put the 4 year old on my shoulders and carried him through the streets with the other kids laughing and dragging Liz and Abby by the hands. The little boy was grinning from ear to ear and had put his chin down on the top of my head. I thought he was falling asleep, but I believe he was just enjoying the moment. We took them back to the guesthouse where a Tuk Tuk driver was waiting for them to take them home. We had arranged a ride for them so they could get the full experience. We stood there in the driveway, saddened but smiling, as they waved goodbye to us. The rest of the day, we missed them. We wish we could've done more. Maybe played games with them for a while. Just spent more time with them. It was the best start of a new year you could ask for. I was helping children with two other wonderful people, trying to make a difference...even if for just one day.

Welcome to Thailand

Saturday, December 22, 2007
Welcome to Thailand

My 11 hour flight from Los Angeles to Tokyo was what you would call... long. I knew it would be a lengthy flight when the Boulderite hippie, with his long, stringy, red hair and unkempt beard started to hum, chant, sing—whatever it was—just high enough to hear and low enough to be annoying. I fell quickly asleep but was soon awakened after an hour or so by a kick to the lower back. I could feel both knees pressed firmly against my back.
I was already exhausted by the frantic morning; we had bombed down I-70 to the airport in a mere 20 minutes from downtown, quite a feat—I can attest that my brother is checking his temper better than ever. Then I had run through the terminal to the gate like OJ.
I assumed my crooked-neck sleep for another 30 minutes before I felt a hand pull hardily on the back of my chair. Said hippie needed to get up, and not wanting to disturb the petite Japanese girls next to him as he crawled over them ever so gently, he yanked on my chair. I flew up out of the seat trying to figure out where I was. There needs to be a video just after the safety video that states how people should get out of their seats without disturbing the passenger in front of them. This is quite an amazing spectacle as I've witnessed this and been subjected to this numerous times. What is it that people can't just get up out of their seats, use their seat to get up, maybe even use their armrest to get out of their seats? I mean, even the people on the aisle use this gawd awful technique. Do these people not realize that there is actually someone in the seat in front of them? These are the same people that drag their over sized luggage down the aisle, hitting everyone's knees, rolling over their feet and then trying to pick up the dead yak they've carried on, dropping the corner of the suitcase on the guy below them, not saying, "sorry, excuse me," or even acknowledging that they've just dropped 150 pounds on someone. Then of course, everyone watches them as they try to find an angle to push this behemoth of a bag into the tiny space above. You know when these people were little children they tried to fit the square block into the triangle hole and wouldn't give up until they completely hammered it dumb to fit.
As it was, I fell back to sleep only to wake in time to watch Santa Clause 3 and The Simpsons. What a Christmas treat!
I landed in Tokyo on Thursday at 4:30pm (remember I left at 6am on Wednesday) and had an hour layover before boarding the 7 1/2 hour flight to Bangkok. I walked in circles the entire time trying to tire myself out. The flight to Bangkok was better and uneventful. I arrived in Bangkok at midnight and waited in line for an hour before cruising through Customs—the easiest time I’ve ever had with them!
It was now 1:30am, and I thought about getting a hotel room for four hours to shower and rest, but I thought better of it, knowing I'd certainly sleep through my 7am flight to Phuket.
I sat on the only cushioned chair available (most of the other ones were metal), plopped down next to Adam and a sleeping Isabelle. They were Aussie's traveling to Myanmar (Burma for those of you in the Bush administration). They told me about the hassle of border crossing and the excitement of traveling there. I fell asleep on my backpack for an hour before waking to the noise of people checking in for their flights at 5am.
The flight to Phuket was a short hour and a half. I picked up my pack and walked outside where I was hoping to see my name on a sign for a car that I had hired prior to my arrival. No luck, so I chose one of the many taxi drivers that were walking past me, whispering, "Taxi please. Taxi, where you go?"
The driver raced down the "highway" and had me in Khao Lak in about an hour, typically a two-hour drive.
He dropped me off at the Jerung Guesthouse where Liz was waiting for me. So I could get on the right sleep schedule, I stayed up the rest of the day.
We headed directly to the beach, about a quarter mile walk from the main drag and the guesthouse.
Khao Lak is said to be the hardest hit from the tsunami 3 years ago. They have done an amazing job restoring the beachfront. New hotels and bars are going up everywhere. It’s in better shape than ever, replanted palm trees lining the beach.
After just a few minutes in the sun, I needed to hit the shade, having already felt the redness on my shoulders and back. The beach stretches for miles to the north as far as the eye can see, with rocks jutting out of the ocean along the way. To the south, the beach bends towards the ocean where a mountain rises out of the water, reminiscent of a very heavily forested Diamond Head in Hawaii, but not as large.
It's peaceful now, but I met a woman that survived the tsunami. Her boyfriend and his parents perished in the wave. She managed to get entangled in the debris, somehow getting her head out of the water and climbed a tree to survive. She has no recollection of climbing the tree. She had massive cuts on her arm, half her scalp had been opened up, all of her clothes were completely ripped off and she broke her back. She still managed to climb the tree. Since then, she has been back every year to help, but this was her first time back down to the beach. She talked openly about her experience, pointed to the tree where she climbed, "it was over there, but it's been torn down now." As she sat in the sand, looking out into the water (she didn’t go in just yet), her eyes told the frightening story of hope and determination.
As I look out over the water, I am reminded how precious my life is and how lucky I am to be in this place at this time. I take a deep breath and watch the sun sink slowly to the horizon, my favorite time at any beach. The breeze is refreshing. The palms leaves are singing, and I close my eyes for a minute. I smile as Liz says, "Let's go get some curry."
Welcome to Thailand...

where i am.....

i talked to liz today and she has set up a great opportunity to get involved with the tsunami restoration there in thailand.
for those of you that would like to look on a map as to where i'll be -
i'm flying from bangkok, south to phuket. it's an hour flight. from there i will take a bus
or if i feel up to haggling, a taxi, 2 1/2 hours north to the town of khaolak. it was hardest hit
by the tsunami. i will be helping to rebuild, teaching english and taking photographs. at least
this is what liz said i would be doing. it will be a great intro to teaching, as i am nervous to just jump right in. we will be there for 2 weeks. we will get a place for christmas and spoil ourselves a bit for a couple of days until after the new year. the town of khaolak is close to a lot of national parks, amazing waterfalls and great diving. padi certification is only $300 for a 4 day course. liz is already certified so i will have a dive partner. the best diving is just off the coast. i will of course be writing if all of this is true in the upcoming weeks.
right now i'm in washington dc and going to be meeting with a national geographic editor tomorrow at 9:30am. she said she'd introduce me to the photo editors. i have my photo cd portfolio and my business card and of course my charm and wittiness to win them over.
i spent last night at happy hour with a woman that is a journalist for bill moyers and a couple of girls that work for the brookings institute. dc is an amazing place. did you know that if you live inside dc that you don't have a vote for president? and they don't have anybody in congress as a voice for them. do you know what that means? yes, taxation without representation.
it is certainly a hotbed with the primaries coming up and the buzz is exciting. everybody here is very in touch with what is going on and it was interesting to hear the take on why journalists aren't pushing forward and asking the hard questions and speaking out. let's just say there are a lot of egos and even if you do speak out you are subsequently shut out from press conferences, etc.... it is true. i don't believe we are living in a completely free society. i'm not saying we're a fascist nation but it seems slowly we are having our rights taken from us right under our noses and we have no idea.
i'll be sure to expand on this over more drinks (very expensive drinks at that) in the next few days.

thanks to you for all your amazing and kind words. i'll be printing them out and carrying them with me on this journey. i'm also deciding if i am going to follow my grandfather's steps into northern assam and india when i am there. there is a great story about the duffla indians to which nobody has heard of except for my grandfather. i have the arrows and arrow case to prove it.

happy trails,
jayb