Believe it or not, after all of your patient waiting, I’m finally going to fill you in on Cambodia. My flight to Siem Reap from Denpasar via Air Asia required a layover in Kuala Lumpur. Though it was very tempting to buy an overpriced purse from Barbara Riehl at one of the shops, I parked myself at the gate with my iPad Mini, determined not to spend any money. I’d tried to exchange currency, but was told that U.S. Dollars can be used in Siem Reap. I considered buying snacks, but decided that durian candy and durian chips were a little too adventurous for me.
There wasn’t much to see upon flying into the Siem Reap airport. A blast of hot air hit me as I descended the steps from the plane. Upon entering the airport, there were forms to be filled out for the Visa Upon Arrival. Most of the pens that were on the table weren’t working; luckily, I had my own. The price was a little higher than what I’d been told that it would be. After filling out the form, I handed it, along with my passport, to the person-in-charge behind the main desk. He then handed it to someone in the line of workers who were stamping the passports and what not. Once they called your name, you picked up your passport and were on your way. I was in a rush to get to the hotel and shower. While dashing out of the airport, I passed another currency exchange. The thought crossed my mind to try again, but the line was long. The hotel had said that they would send a driver for me, although many other travelers on TripAdvisor complained that the hotel’s driver never showed up. If a driver didn’t show up for me, I worried about having to take a taxi (not knowing the correct fare) and/or not being able to use my U.S. Dollars. To my relief, a driver was outside holding my name on a card. I had no idea whether we would be in a taxi, in a tuk tuk or on a water buffalo! It ended up that he piled my luggage into a tuk tuk and we were off on a hot and humid day down a dusty road to the main part of Siem Reap. Cambodia seemed to be in more of a time warp (i.e. less affected by the modern world) than other Asian countries I’d visited.
My hotel was a definite downgrade from my fabulous accommodation in Seminyak. The room was a little dark, the furniture old and the only outlet that I could plug my laptop into was in the bathroom! Yet the location was just over a bridge from the Night Market and Pub Street, and the staff was very, very polite.
When the driver dropped me off, I’d asked if I needed to pay him. Though he explained that it was a complimentary service from the hotel, he said I could tip him if I wanted. Since he’d already convinced me to attend a buffet dinner with apsara dancing later that night, I declined. I intended to ask reception what the correct amount was to pay tuk tuk drivers, then to pay him when he brought me back to the hotel from dinner. The hotel staff suggested that it was fine to pay a few dollars for a driver to take me somewhere, $4-$5 if he waited for me and $15 for an all day excursion.
After my shower, the driver returned a few hours later. He took me to the restaurant, which was huge. The outside area already had many tuk tuk drivers dropping off customers and waiting. I was seated at a decent distance from the stage and my drink order was taken. At that point, I made the rounds to see what exactly was being offered at the buffet. There was plenty of tofu, pork, eggplant and fish, none of which really appealed to me. For those tourists who truly didn’t want to eat Asian food, there was also spaghetti, garlic bread and the like. I had a few plates of rice, spring rolls, soup and salad. The food was very generic in flavor. The dance performance was pleasant and the costumes were similar to that of the Balinese. The dances lacked the drama and the flashing eyes of the Balinese dances, though. After dinner, when it was time to pay, they did indeed readily take my U.S. Dollars. When my driver dropped me off, I gave him $10, which seemed like a fair price. He was completely happy with it. Of course, he got me to agree that he could take me to the Cultural Village the next morning, though.
Complimentary breakfast was offered at the hotel. I had a very ordinary noodle something or other and even used chopsticks! Before my driver showed up, I had time to go to a drug store and buy a razor (lost somewhere in Bali), as well as bargaining at the market for baggy pants and a loose shirt to wear to the temples the following day. Most of the women in the market were decidedly cool towards me; made me think I was back in Vietnam. And why should I give my money to rude people, anyway? When one young woman was polite, friendly and actually interested in getting my business, I ended up buying both the pants and a shirt from her; the total price was about $22.
Unfortunately, the Cultural Village was mostly a snooze fest. Most exhibitions weren’t explained thoroughly; signs were often in Cambodian or there was no sign at all. The “village” had strange things like papier mache-esque clocks or Disney-esque characters in odd places. Part of the village was on stilts. I also took the time to watch the re-enactment of a wedding ceremony. Honestly, though, I would consider it a waste of time. My driver asked if I was hungry, then took me to a nice, tourist restaurant. I enjoyed the air conditioning, but not the food. I’d ordered a beef dish; the meat was too chewy. With that, I went back to the hotel to freshen up/shower up and hide from the highest temperatures of the day.
After awhile, I went to reception to inquire as to where I might have pictures taken dressed in apsara clothing. She made a few phone calls, quoted me a price, then said that someone would pick me up. As I waited, she later told me that there was a change in plans. A young woman at the hotel would drop me at the photography studio on the back of her motorbike. It took awhile to find the studio, as it had moved from its old location. The studio was owned by two Japanese photographers, a man and a woman. The woman who dressed me and did my make-up was a very kind Cambodian dance instructor. I chose a green costume/outfit. It wasn’t really apsara, as that apparently requires a white outfit and a different type of head dress than the one I’d chosen. She took her time applying my make-up, which was heavy, yet not garish. The pleating and draping of the costume took some time, too. Once the head dress was on me, it was rather weighty. When they were ready to shoot, the electricity went out – naturally! I was sweating profusely, so they tried to take the photos quickly. Not only did they use their professional cameras, but they also took photos with my DSLR and my point-and-shoot. The dance instructor was making me laugh as she posed me. I was really enjoying the experience, though. When the photos were done and I’d changed, they showed the photos to me. I picked four, though nearly all of them had turned out nicely. I also had the option of choosing a background, for an additional price. I picked one photo, plus one background. I told them to pick the other 3 photos, beings they were the professionals, but that none of those needed backgrounds. I paid and they promised to E-mail everything to me within 2 or 3 weeks. In the meantime, it had begun to rain a little. I wasn’t sure how to get back to my hotel, but the dance instructor kindly offered to take me there. The rain was kind of refreshing on the back of her motorbike.
Dinner was at Pub Street. I found a bar/restaurant with WiFi and settled in. The food was ok and prices were ok. Pub Street, however, was much smaller than anticipated. I couldn’t believe it was so famous. It didn’t seem particularly wild down there.
Before retiring to bed, I’d booked a massage through the hotel. The massage consisted of a woman coming to my room, placing towels on my bed and massaging me with oil. The massage didn’t last the full hour and it, too, was just ok.
