From Khao San to Pham Ngu Lao

Humanity rides into the prism of this world, and emerges in such brilliance of shades each as beautiful as the next. Yet despite the distinct, beautiful shades, they're all still the same light as before. I entered Bangkok in one stream of hope and optimism, and came out of Ho Chi Minh City with a brilliance of memories, knowledge, respect and understanding. Each individual aspect are just as important as the next.

Time to dance nekkid!

If I had visited Phuket, Pattaya or one of the many islands off the Thai coast, that might have been something at least heard of, if not seen. Of course, the nekkid dancing isn't exactly legal so discretion would have to be in place, which would've removed any interesting aspects nekkid dancing had to begin with.

But I didn't visit Phuket or the islands because Thailand is more then beaches (and because they were out of the way). I met many tourists, all nice people for the record, who either wanted to visit, or already visited Thailand strictly for the full-moon parties on Ko Pha Ngan or the prestine beaches. One fellow American pair were planning to spend a whole two days in Cambodia to simply make it to a full-moon party. I guess I can't judge, to each his own. But to spend a mere two days in a nation that has a lot to offer historically and culturally? You're right, to each his own. Cambodia doesn't need that kind of tourist anyway.

I've never been a drinker or a dead sexy party animal who streaks, so anyone only expecting rad stories about getting shit-faced on a Thai beach or waking up next to a Vietnamese hooker in the slums of Saigon after a night of decadence should probably hit backspace.

My stories are not ones many would consider, well, interesting, because many don't involve a protagonist, antagonist, a hooker, a bar fight and climax. Many are anecdotal at best, but I'm okay with that. My experiences are my own to share information of a different and fascinating world only separated from us by an ocean.

For those who care, buckle up because it's a long read.

The financial, chaotic, decadent and polticial heart of Thailand is Bangkok, where practically anything goes outside of murder and criticizing the King. Khao San Rd, the base for many backpackers and flashpackers, bleeds bars, street vendors, internet cafes, shops and guesthouses with such ferocity it makes Kirstie Alley's eating habis seem like slow, bird-like nibbles. This radiates out into the surrounding neighborhood of Banglamphu, and it's where I earned my right of passage for backpacking Southeast Asia. I became a man, a backpacking man.

It was in Bangkok I tried my luck at riding public bus transportation like the locals. I enjoyed the rough, open-windowed rides, but most of all, it was the thrill of having to jump on a moving bus to get on that was the best. Of course, much like many cities, Bangkok bus routes aren't exactly reliable even with two dead sexy bus route maps that I bought for 60 baht each. This leads to loads of fun getting lost unless you happen to be nauseated and on the verge of vomiting all while trying to find a major bus station hiding behind a large outdoor market.

But it was also in Bangkok where the foundations of developing the confidence to travel alone was laid. Budget accommodation, eating from mainly street vendors and outdoor cafes, getting around on local transportation, navigating to the major sights and getting from one city to another were all tests that were passed in, most cases, with flying colors. And it was also here where the interaction with the locals and fellow travelers alike, as well as falling victim to various scams, led to a greater understanding of the world we live in, as well as what to expect throughout the trip. Finally, it was in Bangkok where I learned budgeting isn't easy and that I need more discipline to effectively do it, which as I would discover late, is a lesson I still didn't, and haven't, learned.

And of course, we can't forget that case of the barfs I received as a going-away gift from the chicken I ate in Ayuthaya. And the 10-mile death march through Ayuthaya that was still amazing anyway. Why was it amazing? Because I saw local Ayuthaya. Sure, a woman told me to get lost after her children came running up to me and I said hi, but still, how many tourists see a place for what it is? And not only Ayuthaya, but Bangkok as well. The most successful aspect of the Thailand leg was the exploration on foot. I may not have seen everything I wanted to in Bangkok and Ayuthaya (and I even missed big things like the Reclining Buddha at Wat Pho) but I walked through areas few tourists would even dare do so. Not that they were dangerous (in the day anyway) but because they aren't touristy. To walk down an alley where locals work and live, to ride the local transportation, to try and do what the locals do, that's traveling. It's raw, and it's real. And finally, I learned that's the difference between a tourist and traveler.

I haven't even gotten to Cambodia by this point!

Cambodia was the biggest challenge because it's a walking contradiction. The differences in the ideas of rich and poor were most apparent, and the most difficult, to deal with. As a Westerner, you are seen as rich regardless of your budget. This is also true in both Thailand and Vietnam but it hits hardest in Cambodia. While income wise this is generally true, it doesn't mean that a Westerner is rich in the objective sense. Many aren't. To be seen as a Bank of America in the eyes of the population proved to be an exceptionally frustrating experience at times, because you know you simply can't give a dollar to every beggar regardless of their misfortunes, and because giving out a dollar or two to each person begging can make a big difference when you're trying to live on $20 a day. This frustration is augmented by the fact that many times only Westerners are approached for a hand-out despite a local who may be dressed nicer and carrying expensive camera equipment passed by just a second before you.

I can sense the David-you-fucking-cheap-and-cold-bastard stares at the screen, but don't judge me just yet....

One of the big highlights of my trip involved hearing a beautiful set of traditional Khmer music over an exotic dinner of snake and kangaroo dinner in Siem Reap (I can sense those stares and judging thoughts getting more extreme - for the record it was a lot cheaper than one maybe assuming). I looked over across the street and saw a band playing. This wasn't just any band. It was a band of landmine victims who bound together and were playing this beautiful music for all of Pub Street to hear and enjoy. A second band of the same nature at the base of Phnom Bakheng summed it up best:

In a written statement, they declared they would not resort to begging despite their misforutnes, that they had more dignity and wanted to use their gifts for the world, and that any donations were greatly appreciated. I supported both of the groups, because I was deeply touched by their music talent, their positive attitude and their determination. That was simply an amazing moment, one that truly symbolized the determination embodied in the Khmer people, more so than the new skyrises, renovation of the riverfront and slick malls in Phnom Penh.

And for the icing on the cake, I didn't act like a grinch to every single person who begged. I did give a little to quite a few people, especially ones who were badly maimed from landmine or UXO-related accidents. The amounts were in small denominations of course.

But simply grasping the contradiction that defines modern Cambodia was a challenge that could have only been understood by visiting. Every guidebook in the world can tell you about the poverty in Cambodia and the numerous beggars but the difference in the definitions of rich and poor can only truly be understood by first-hand experience. Rich and poor are seen in very black-and-white terms often laced with stereotypes. You can't completely ignore the problem and be cold, but you can't give away every dollar you have either.

What does a traveler do? The opposite of a tourist.

But seriously, there is no trick or secret to effectively dealing with it. You are only one person. All one can do is use their best judgment and make the call based on their own moral code. Despite the fact you're better off then much of the native population, you still need to consider your means of survival as well. What good are you to someone when you don't have the means to support yourself? One great option is to dine or drink at establishments where proceeds go to non-profit organizations designated to help the less fortunate. Both Siem Reap and Phnom Penh host a handful of these places, and some guidebooks (Lonely Planet's "Southeast Asia on a Shoestring" and "Cambodia" are examples) will have some of these places listed. Volunteering is another option to give back to the community.

Now I'm starting to sound like a guidebook.

But with the challenge of juggling rich vs. poor came the reward of being immersed in a nation in which its contradictions are so vividly portrayed in a yin-yang balancing act that can be seen in every corner. Street markets vs. Sorya Shopping Center. Angkor vs. Phnom Penh. The serene beaches of Sihanoukville and Kampot vs. Battambang, Preah Vihear and other heavily-mined provinces. Fish massages vs. the rough-and-tough 2-hr. Khmer massages (that ended in pillow fights and wrestling matches).

The best of both worlds manifested in the Vietnam leg with the lessons from the good and bad put to the final exam in Ho Chi Minh City. I explored the surrounding area more so then in Bangkok while still allowing enough time to taste the sweet and sour taste of HCMC chaos. My budget, though not as disciplined as Bangkok, was more focused than Cambodia. I didn't go down nearly as many of the alleys as in Bangkok but I went outside the tourist areas more so than in Phnom Penh. Pham Ngu Lao exhibitied more life and tourists then the party zones of Phnom Penh but paled compared to Khao San Rd. Essentially, the Vietnamese leg was the pendulum returning to equilibrium, a concoction of the extremes exhibited in both Thailand and Cambodia brought down to a compromised mix of sheer madness and tranquility with a bunch of motorbikes thrown in for good measure.

Prior to this trip, I've never been to a city where traffic and a dangerous quantity of powerlines created such dynamic and interesting snapshots. But that's two of the many ways Ho Chi Minh City stands out. There's nothing quite like seeing thousands and thousands of motorbikes creating traffic jams that would make Los Angeles blush and Bangkok wishing it dealt with more motorbikes then cars and taxis. It's more then possible to create fascinating photo albums of either of those aspects alone. But ducking under said powerlines and meandering your way through a mass of hundreds of motorbikes without so much as getting clipped by a single one are experiences of a lifetime. I'm unashmed to admit that in one instance, a kind 70-year-old man walked me across a busy street, with cars grudgingly slowing down and motorbikes whipping around us in all four directions.

Ironically, the closest I came to being hit by a moving vehicle (and considering motorbikes were constantly dodging me by mere inches, this was close) was a bicycle on a quiet side street. Go figure.

I expanded on what I thought about the Mekong Delta in the previous post so I won't go too much into it here, but it was still quite the experience, especially helping to paddle a small, four-person canoe through one of the Mekong's small marshy tributaries. To me, that holds more water then any photo because I was involved. One fellow traveler was complaining he had to help row his little canoe, and in my head I'm like "dude, you got to do something most of this group didn't. What the hell are you complaining about?"

For the record, this was one of the same guys who was spending two measly days in Cambodia to make it to a full moon party in Thailand. Have fun not remembering the party.

It's amazing to me how easy it is to get in and out of socialist nations yet getting back into your own nation can be a painstaking process. With my $76 visa in hand, getting into Vietnam was a simple stamp in the passport, run my backpack through an x-ray and give my arrival card to immigration. Boom, I'm in. Getting out was just as simple. And yet, coming back to the good old United States of America, the land of the free, I get detained in Houston for three hours in customs.

Three hours of searching my pack, going through every single photo I took on the trip several times (we're talking about 1600 pictures here), checking blank CDs and my flash drive I brought for back-up storage of photos if needed, checking all of my texts, call history, photos and even the battery on my Blackberry, going through all of my budget records, receipts, back-up copies of traveler's checks, passport and traveler's insurance information, flipping through every page of my guidebooks, unrolling every artricle of clothing, checking every pocket, and checking my flight itinerary several times and asking to see the credit card I used to pay for the flight.

He first asked if I knew why I was brought in and I said honestly no. He said it was random.

Oh and then the questioning. Which countries did you visit? How long where you in each country? Why did you visit? What exactly did you do in those countries? Did you travel alone? Why did you travel alone? Do you have any friends in those countries? How did you hear about these countries (yes, this was actually a question asked.)? How much foreign currency do you have? How much does said currency equal in U.S. dollars? Sir, how much do you THINK said currency equals in U.S. dollars? How much money did you take with you? How did you pay for things? How did you pay for your flight? Do you have the credit card used to pay for your flight? Can we see the credit card? How much was your flight? What is your job? What was your former job? Where do you live? Who do you live with? What are these (after taking out some earplugs; again, this was actually a question asked)? Where's your checked bag? Why don't you have one? Do you have a laptop? Why didn't you bring it with you?

Not only were most of these questions asked at least three times, one of the officers said how weird it was for someone to spend three weeks in Southeast Asia alone. I told him it was actually quite common and I met plenty of travelers, some American, who were there for three months, and he said that's even weirder. He goes on to say pretty much how most people only travel after retirement, essentially implying why I truly was brought in for further inspection and implying their suspicions of me being involved in communist activities overseas.

The second time he asked and I answered, he said it was because I had traveled to "suspicious nations". Fucking morons. Traveling alone, length of trips and destinations "out of the norm" are no grounds for suspicion, much less detention. It's not like I was in Iran, North Korea, Myanmar, or spent months in Pakistan or Afghanistan. Tomorrow, I will file a blistering complaint to the CBP.

After an hour and a half, they said I was clear to go only to bring me back a minute later to again check my electronics, saying they now had a computer to check my stuff and a person who could do it (mind you, my cameras and flash drive utilize card readers and USB....it seriously took them an hour and a half to get a computer with USB and a card reader? Are you kidding me!?) and forcing me to stay put yet another hour and a half, thus resulting in missing my connecting flight to San Antonio.

The land of the free indeed. I, a proud and patriotic American, so blessed to be an American and to hold an American passport, come home to my country and they treat me like a criminal because I chose to travel to countries that we have full diplomatic relations with. Thank you, Department of Homeland Insecurity. I'm sure W is proud of his offspring. You'd almost think our government secretly doesn't want anyone to travel. Heaven forbid some people are actually curious about a world outside of the good ol' U.S. of A.

But I must give mad props to Contintental Airlines for going out of their way to assist me, book me on a later flight at no extra charge and even got me to the front of a looooooooong line for security. I will definitely make the effort to fly with them in the future.

And finally, what everyone has been asking for....

HIGHLIGHTS
(The good, the bad, the weird, the disturbing, anything that stood out)

These are not in any order. There are a bunch.

• The bright lights, loud music and aromas of many street vendors on Khao San Road in Bangkok
• An old man first offering a peep show of beautiful women, then wanting me to go back to a hotel with him, telling me I was special on Khao San Rd. It's important to note this happened about an hour after I landed in Bangkok.
• 7-11s overunning Bangkok like Starbucks here in the U.S.
• Staying in a guesthouse situated directly on top of a reggae bar that played nothing but Bob Marley songs. I heard his greatest hits probably about 10 times my entire stay.
• Getting food poisoning from a piece of chicken in Ayuthaya
• The Ayuthaya "death march" - 10 miles there, 5 in Bangkok partially due to missing my bus stop coming back.
• Walking practically everywhere in Bangkok and Ho Chi Minh City and seeing normal life in both cities outside of the tourist enclaves.
• Sharing a conversation with a Brazilian traveler on board a crammed Bangkok bus, stopped in rush hour traffic.
• The claustrophobic Cu Chi Tunnels and shooting an AK-47 in Vietnam.
• Helping to paddle a small boat along a tributary of the Mekong.
• Seeing Angkor Wat twice.
• 20-minute fish massage in Siem Reap, where at first I was laughing so loud from the tickelish feeling practically all of Siem Reap could hear me.
• The 2-hr Khmer-style massage, full of flirting with our masseuses, eventually turning into a giant pillow fight and wrestling match. My masseuse offered me a "happy ending" but I politely declined her request.
• That amazing, fresh sushi I had at Narita airport...my God that was heavenly.
• Sharing conversations with Vietnamese locals involved in the American War, and telling them of my father's time in Thailand during the war.
• The customs fiasco in Houston as mentioned above.
  
• Eating python and kangaroo at Cambodian BBQ in Siem Reap.
• The two Siem Reap traditional Khmer bands consisting of victims of landmines.
• Crossing the streets in Ho Chi Minh City, praying I wasn't going to die. An old 70-year-old man helped me across, as did a aggressive and persistent cyclo driver.
• Sunset on top of Phnom Bakheng, and seeing Angkor Wat and a beautiful lake in the background.
• My tuk-tuk/moto driver, Bruce, in Siem Reap.
• Every other tuk-tuk/moto driver obsessed with getting lady boom boom and extending offers for me to join them.
• My tuk-tuk driver in Phnom Penh, after taking me to Tuol Sleng and the Killing Fields, wanting me to go with him to get lady boom boom and the expression of his face when I politely declined his offer.
• A little vendor girl at Banteay Kdei who not only knew what the capital of the U.S. was, but also knew the capital of Texas.
• Almost falling backwards on the steep stairs leading up Wat Arun trying to hand a fellow Indian traveler his camera.
• Riding the skytrain in Bangkok.
• Jumping onto moving buses in Bangkok.
• Dancing the night away in Siem Reap with two girls all over me. They unfortunately were both prostitutes and were only looking for some moolah.
• Seeing other Westerners getting mobbed by vendors at Ta Prohm and laughing at them, but then getting mobbed myself when I got up out of my chair.
• Visiting the sobering Tuol Sleng and Killing Fields in Phnom Penh.
• Getting an unwanted shoeshine in a Ho Chi Minh City park which set me back 150,000 dong (about $7).
• My moto driver, Nang, in Ho Chi Minh City, whose father was the mayor of Danang when the South Vietnamese government was in power.
• Eating delicious clams with fellow travelers from Singapore and France at Ben Thanh market in Ho Chi Minh City, where the power went out and people started screaming and freaking out (and I laughed at them).
• Ban Chiang Restaurant in Bangkok, where I had this amazing Isan-style spicy apple salad.
• The various markets throughout the region that I visited, such as the Psar O Russei (Russian Market) in Phnom Penh and the center of Chinatown in Ho Chi Minh City.
• Accidently wandering into a Buddhist monk's living quarters at Wat Mahathat in Bangkok.
• Loi Krathong festival in Bangkok, where I chatted with a nice local and had some delicious noodles.
• The extremely sweet family and their guesthouse I stayed at in Ho Chi Minh City - $10 a night with hot water, cable and A/C plus free internet on their family computer.
• The heavenly fruit shakes at Highland Coffee in Ho Chi Minh City.
• The delicious elephant fish and tropical fruit in the Mekong Delta.
• Eating pho in Can Tho with a fellow German traveler, and having a tailor help us order.
• Simply cruising the Mekong and its tributaries by boat.
• Not getting robbed at all during the trip.
• Sharing a bus with snobbish karaoke-loving adolescents on the way to Phnom Penh.
• What ruins I saw in Ayuthaya.
• Chatting with a politically-aware Thai of Chinese descent on the train back to Bangkok from Ayuthaya. He also thought French tourists were the worst, which, though funny, based on my experiences thus far isn't necessarily true.
• Watching two Khmers duking it out on Pub Street in Siem Reap and no one doing anything about it.
• Relaxing in riverside cafes in Phnom Penh and Ho Chi Minh City.
• Ta Phrom and Preah Khan temples in Angkor
• Bayon and its many faces in Angkor - very Orwellian and amazing.
• The 3 am cab ride to Mo Chit bus station in Bangkok - my cabbie was insane and nearly ran a tuk-tuk and cyclist off the road.
• Wat Pho, Wat Arun and simply wat-hopping in Bangkok.
• Reunification Palace in Ho Chi Minh City.
• Taking a moto ride through Ho Chi Minh City.
• Chatting with a man from West Africa and a Sri Lankan business man in Bangkok.
• Not dying nor getting roughed up when I accidentally knocked a beer from a local's hand on Khao San Rd.
• Riding a tuk-tuk through a torrential downpour in Phnom Penh.
• A local smiling and waving to tourists as he bathed in the moat surrounding central Ayuthaya.
  
• And finally, despite only touching the tip of the iceberg in all three nations, having the privilege to visit and learn from what I did see and experience and to, once again, confirm my passion for traveling and building excitement for my next journey through Southeast Asia, and no paranoid customs official is gonna stop me.
  

Despite a few rough patches, it was a very successful trip overall. I know what I did right and what I need to improve for the next big trip. It was a test to see if I could handle indepenedent travel, and I know I passed with flying colors. I'm eager for my next trip, and hopefully someone can join me for at least part of it!! This blog will remain open, so for those who have been following it, there's no need to go anywhere. Thanks again for everyone who responded and read this blog, and thanks to everyone who took the time to look at my pictures on Facebook.

The next trip isn't as far off as one may think. Let the good times keep rolling!!