Eating And Traveling
Although there are many examples of French architecture abounding along the riverside cities of Pakse, Savannakhet, and Thakhek, I tried to find the ones with character, the ones with a personality, lived-in, lived-around, but some were brand new, as Laos inches toward the 21st century with better education and more tourist money. These cities along the Mekong were one to two big streets long and had little to do besides watch sunsets and drink BeerLao.
It’s like a floating farmyard on Don Dhet. I’ve heard it said you are never more than three feet from a cockroach; here, you are never more than three feet from a chicken. The boys cluck you awake, the babies peep beside your flip-flopped feet, the mamas stand on heavy chicken legs, watching. They walk onto balconies, into stores, and their sounds dominate. Buffaloes, bunnies, bugs, geckos, spiders, a wonderfully spiritual amount of butterflies and moths, pigs, cats, dogs, ducks, geese and the innumerable fish of the Mekong inhabit this 10 sq. km. island.
Laziness runs rampant among the mutts.
They ate some of my Pringles.
An old lady starting calling for the birds, “PeepPeepPeepPeepPeep.” They cautiously walked past me.
They seemed so happy in their dirt pool.
If you look in the middle, you can see a fat heart; maybe it’s just a love fight.
They were chasing each other. Dog looks to be having fun, cat is pissed.
Ants are also very present. The big black ones who mind their own business, the small red or black ones that try to eat anything sitting on a table, and then the big, red fire ants. I put my back down by the river for a few seconds and they were already up my leg and on my hands, on my backpack and water bottle.
Sunsets in color and one without.
No caption photography on Wednesday.
I’ve spent a lot of time on the day buses here in Cambodia. I’ve seen the indescribably extensive amount of trash littering every single inch of dirt along the roads, in the cities and sometimes in the restaurants. Papers, wrappers, cans, bottles, tickets, plastic, socks, shoes, shirts, food garbage, leaf clippings, composting itself under the feet of the oblivious locals. I see them sweeping up the dust in front of their shops or houses more than I see them pick up the rubbish. It’s not like the ground has become trash, but it seems to be moving in that direction in certain places, especially markets, or roadside stops. Despite the trash situation, it isn’t completely without charm. Some of that trash gets burned in random fires, producing a not-unlikeable, but definitely polluting smell. The smell is comforting in an unpleasant way. Smoke surrounds the road in some places, not the seemingly edible smoke of BBQ’s, but a mixture of plastic, palm leaves and cardboard. The houses are all on stilts, giving an extra room, that is purely shade, usually with a few hammocks. Small shops wait with supplies of strange chips, and always Pringles, sugary or salty treats, squid jerky and selected beers. Chugging along in my Tuk-Tuk at about 30 mph, I caught pictures in a bouncy manner, kinetic glimpses of the street.
1) Banteay Srei:
This 10th century temple dedicated to Shiva and called the “temple of woman” because the carvings are so delicate and intricate, that supposedly only a woman could do it. The rock was a special pink sandstone and looked beautiful. It was very well preserved and smaller allowing a better chance to see everything. It was such a great place to end, after seeing the big ones, this was a nice change. Recommended for the carvings and the amazing 40 minute tuk-tuk ride through Cambodian countryside.
The detail within the temples contains as much intricacy and detail on a micro level as the construction and balance presents on a macro level. These pictures are from various temples inside the complex.
Continue reading “Temples of Angkor ~ Mosaics and Close-Ups”
The ancient Ruines d’Angkor are awesome. They give a glimpse into the past. They also give a glimpse of the Cambodian present. The ravages of a brutal Civil War and genocide, the collateral damage of the Vietnam War, the century long suppression under French colonialism, the never-ending feuds of territory with China, Thailand and Vietnam have produced a very poor country with a rich history and booming tourism. The tourist dollars are pouring into the main cities, but this mostly agrarian country still works hard for its money…or begs for it. Even the kids selling the ubiquitous postcards, “10 for a dollar mister. Look, 1,2,3,4…Come on. Help me out” sound like they’re begging even though they are offering a “service.” The middle aged ladies hawking the same scarves, the same dresses, the same bags, the same magnets, the same trinkets, the same t-shirts, the same same, not different have the same routine, “Buy for your girlfriend, your mother, your sister. Very cheap, very good, made in Cambodia silk.” It’s like they are all given a supply from the same store and sent out over the huge grounds of Angkor like some poor roving salesman with a tattered suitcase full of “amazing” cleaning supplies. I’m sure some people buy it. Some people might give money out of sympathy. Some people just shake their head in varying shades of disgust and/or annoyance. I started to look at them instead of the traditional, “No thanks, it’s okay.” I looked at their eyes, their clothes. I talked to them. I asked them questions. They speak better English than they are aware. As soon as I told a young boy he has special golf hat on or a girl that she was pretty, they smiled and forgot to see me as money on legs. They talked to me also. We didn’t discuss important things, we just commented on the situation. I quizzed the kids on world capitals. I asked the girls if they were all friends. I asked them if they like Angkor, and all said yes. I smiled and felt important with all their attention lavished upon me because I might have a spare dollar in my wallet meant for them. It’s a big job to squeeze all the money out of tourists while they are here at these mighty ruins. They give that big job to the smallest people.
“You come back here and buy from me mister, not her, okay?”
Every Wednesday, many blogs post a wordless photo to speak for itself.
Otres Beach provided a few wonderful sunsets. Here is a small sample of slowing life down by watching the steady pace of the sun move into the next hemisphere.
E.A.T. 