fLAWless: Cambodia: Day 47

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Om Loon's in Phnom Penh

10:13 PM

Yesterday morning we embarked on an adventure to Kirirum, a national park southwest of Phnom Penh. I didn't know much about it beforehand; all I knew was that there was a waterfall. Although waterfalls are pretty cool, I sometimes get the feeling that once you've seen one waterfall, you've seen them all. Either way, I was still pretty excited to go on the trip. I love a good hike.

We met at the church building and piled into a large van, Eng in the front passenger seat and a large Cambodian man at the helm. Like a lot of Cambodian men I've seen, this guy had a gnarly patch of hair growing from a mole on his chin. According to Cambodian culture, facial hair growing from a mole is a sign of luck.

I'm not sure if I'd be willing to trade "luck" for such an atrocious facial feature. But hey, that's just me.

I don’t know what was going on with the man at the wheel, but he seemed to have a mission to get to Kirirum in as fast a manner as possible. He was driving all over the road, straight into oncoming traffic on multiple occasions, honking his horn at anyone who was within a ten foot radius of our vehicle. I can't tell you how many times I looked up from my seat just behind Eng to find a semi heading straight for us.We're going to die!

Despite the onslaught of oncoming traffic, we arrived in Kirirum that afternoon safe and sound. We had just enough time to change into our swimsuits before we were loaded into ox carts for a quick ride to the trailhead. Spencer, Kaitlin, Eng, and the Cambodian commander were in one while Tuni, Lauren, Mike, and I were piled in the other.

In retrospect, I feel like riding those ox carts was something that we did just to say that we did it. I mean, it's not like the path was so terrible that we only had the option of the ox carts; on the contrary, the path was perfectly fine, and I'm pretty sure I could have walked it faster than the speed we were going in the carts. Not to mention, I would have been spared the threat of getting lime disease by the blood-sucking ticks that were latched to the oxen.

It's all for the experience, Andee. All for the experience.

About ten minutes passed and we were at the trailhead. Dense jungle surrounded us, the sounds of frogs and crickets emanating from the depths. Every so often I'd feel webbing on one or more extremities of my body, forcing me to stop and make sure there weren't any spiders attached. A half hour later, we came up over a ridge and I found myself viewing of one of the most beautiful waterfalls I'd ever seen. Needless to say, I immediately took back my notion that all waterfalls are the same.

We hiked down the ridge to a giant pile of boulders that formed the base of the waterfall. Cold spray from the force of the water graced our presence. I pulled out a camera and got to work documenting the scene while the rest of the pack made their attempts to get closer to the steady stream of water diving over the cliff. I would have followed, but I've had bad experiences with slippery rocks. I decided this was not the occasion to take a trip down memory lane. Literally.

The sun started to sink in the sky and we decided to head back. Surprisingly, and maybe a little disappointingly, the ox carts were still waiting for us when we got back to the trailhead. I hopped inside the cart and squished my legs to my chest as Mike, Tuni, and the large-and-in-charge Cambodian driver took their spots. While riding back, I couldn't help but laugh out loud at the present situation. We hit rock after rock, bumping all over the place as the driver swore in Khmer under his breath.

We ate a scrumptious dinner of rice, bamboo, fried noodles, and stew. We set up camp in a one room stilted home, secluded from the hustle and bustle of the city. Eng, Mike, and the driver slept underneath the home while the rest of us sought refuge beneath bright blue mosquito nets and paper-thin mattresses inside. Cards were played, a movie was watched, and then it was time to sleep.

Well, at least I thought it was time for sleep. Between the demon gecko that was scurrying around the walls, the snoring Cambodian driver, and my fear of getting raped by mosquitoes and other insects, sleep wasn't really an option.

Despite the lack of sleep, I loved the experience. I definitely came to a greater appreciation of the lifestyle that rural Cambodians live. Their simplicity of life made it easy to forget all of my worries and allowed me to just live in the moment, something that I definitely need to integrate into my everyday lifestyle.