cambodia...a bittersweet love affair

salaam

bang, bang, bang...what the hell?!!?? joronda and i look at each other perplexed as our guesthouse door is being rustled at 0630. bang, bang...i snatch open the door to find "lucky", one of the guesthouse workers, standing in front of me with a big smile and saying, "you go phnom penh?". i say, "yes, at seven thirty", he nods, smiles, and walks away. i close the door thinking to myself how nice it was of them to wake us up.

"hold on!!", i hear joronda yell outside of the shower i was currently drying off from. bang, bang, jiggle, bang, bang..."hold on!!!" she yells again with anxiety in her voice because someone is just trying to walk into the room. i quickly pull on my "these damn things will never get clean" pair of underwear and spring to the door. joronda slides into the bathroom behind me to protect her modesty as i open the door..."bus, bus" another guesthouse worker rapidly utters and gesticulates as if to imply that we were late. with my head poking behind the door i inform him that it is 6:45 am, and that it was he who told us the night before that the bus didn't leave until 7:30. "no, bus, bus!!" he exclaims once more, pointing to the window that overlooks the driveway. i step into the hallway frustrated and let him know again that he told us 7:30 and that we would be down as early as 7 o'clock to checkout and so forth. with that, he leaves and joronda and i shake our heads in disgust and quickly finalize our belongings.

bang, bang "bus, bus!!"...we hear clamoring from our door for yet a third time this morning. "what the f---!!!", i yell and visibly agitated jerk open the door and step directly to the third guesthouse worker to bother us this morning. he barely comes up past my waist, and considering that i was still in my draws in was just an unfortunate situation for everyone. he eeks out a third, "bus" and with patience lost, i let him know that this treatment is not appreciated. the time is 6:52 am...welcome to cambodia.

cambodia has been a land of mixed emotions for both joronda and myself. amidst the joy of exploring the ruins of the ancient angkor temples (good call uncle dave)...we've spent an equal amount of time brooding, thinking, and vocalizing our frustrations with the country as a whole. the conditions are heartbreaking...poverty is rampant, everything is filthy as hell, there seems to be no love, and people just accept it. we've only been here for 5 days and so far 95% of the people we've met have been shady tricksters, con artists, and thieves. they feen for money like a junkie for a fix, and when you don't just give in, they berate you with more and more scams to get a dollar.

when you don't give the dirty woman holding the dirtier baby a buck to fill her already full bottle with more milk, she curses you. when you reach out to the young desheveled boy, who has been tugging at your shirt and arm for the past 5 minutes begging for a dollar to get some food...and when you offer him a fresh meal from your own plate, he looks at it with disgust, turns up his nose and says "i don't like that", and then continues to beg you for a dollar for some food. when you ask a merchant if they know where you can buy some cambodian tea and they ask you to wait here...then they come back from a convenience store and try to sell you a $0.50 bag of tea for $15...and when you politely refuse they too curse you and tell you they wouldn't have gotten it if you didn't want to buy. i mean the shit is just ridiculous, frustrating as hell, and infuriating...what are you supposed to do? we came on this trip with the sole intention of volunteering...to help those in need. and these folks are definitely in need...but hell, we don't have a dollar to give everyone in cambodia, and even if we did...what good would it do? it sure wouldn't be enough to counteract the mental subjugation that has one believing that a dollar is their saving grace. in my opinion, money is a created reality, a figment, a farce, nothing but little colorful rectangular cloth-filled smoke and mirrors. money only has the value that we allow it to have. now trust me, i understand the need to pay bills...and i know that it takes more than a pretty smile and winning personality to keep a roof over ones head and to feed a family. but damn...there has to be some balance. i mean, i'll buy your baby some milk, give you some food, and frequent your shops...but instead, all you bastards want is a dollar and every opportunity to con me out of mine.

to you the reader...
thank you for sifting through my lamentations, and frustrations, and please note that the 'you', of course, is not directed at you who maybe reading this but instead is written frustration at the proverbially societal 'you' that indoctrinates counter-spiritual teachings and thought. these are just my opinions.

the intro stories significance is this...
we arrived in cambodia with high hopes and excitement about experiencing the breadth of a new countries humanity. instead we've experienced bi-polar bitterness and emotional unrest that has left us standing in a hallway in our draws screaming...with no one understanding a word we're saying.

salaam
mateo