Favorite Travel in Transit Story

Since I just posted a list of transit suggestions, I thought I should follow it up with my favorite transit experiences. Favorite, in a manner of speaking. To be honest, it was one of the worst trips of my life, but now it’s one of my favorite stories to retell–so I really can’t get too bent out of shape.

My friend Hannah and I planned an epic journey from Amritsar  to Jailasmer (India). Though they look relatively close on the map, we could find no means of arriving from one to the other without going back through Delhi (aka 20+ hours on the train).  Being brave, modern women we scoffed at the mere 20 hour journey and the prices for the *2nd class AC train carriages (mistake #1). So, obviously we bought 2nd class non AC tickets (being slightly unenthusiastic about the possibility of sharing a 20 hour train ride with a goat in 3rd class). We were guaranteed that our tickets would give us one window seat and the seat right next to it during the day and sleeper seats (which are really just the day benches but the top one stops being for luggage storage and they pull down a third bench in the middle) at night.

This is probably a good time to explain that I wasn’t feeling so hot (everyone feeling the foreshadowing?), which is why I insisted on a window seat.  To be honest, I don’t even remember the train ride from Amritsar to Delhi. It passed without incident, which, for Incredible India, is quite…incredible.  In Delhi, we had a few hour wait between trains and, a craving for some familiar food in the big city. So, we head to TGI Friday’s (mistake #2).  We finish lunch and head back to the train station.

Here, ladies & gentlemen is where the real fun begins.

We start by trying to locate our carriage B3.  I assumed that B3 would follow B1 and B2–but you know what they say about assumptions. There I am huffing and puffing along the massive train line with my 40 lb backpack, only to discover that B3 is on the other end of the platform from B2. Obviously.

Finding the correct carriage, we board and look hopefully towards our respective seats (window plus one), but a large Indian family had already taken up residence. Surely, there was some confusion. We wander over there and politely suggest that they’ve made a mistake.

After 10 minutes of Indian head wobbling and laughing, I realize the large sari-clad lady sitting by my window is not going anywhere. At this point, I’m feeling down right terrible. The Delhi pollution and heat did nothing to help my stomach and queasiness–not to mention the sprint through the train station looking for stupid B3. The train starts to get more and more packed and my claustrophobia (which runs much lower than anyone else in my family, but still makes me panic when I can’t see an escape route or feel fresh air) was starting to boil.

I’m near to tears trying to tell the head-wobbling family and the man who was pretending to be a train official that I will begin puking any minute and it would really be better for everyone if I sit by the window, but nothing seems to be getting through there. My frustration continues to unravel and Hannah, bless her, was locked in an argument with Jabba-the-Seat Stealer to get me some air (and a launching pad).

Alas, a real train official comes by. I’m basically crying while trying to explain the predicament (ah, the frustrations and joys of traveling in a world far from home) and Hannah is also loudly telling our story to Mr. Official.  We expect him to kick the perpetrators out of our seats and claim a loud victory. Instead he looks at us, looks at them and says “follow me”. As luck would have it, he moved us up to the 2nd class AC tickets (you know, the ones we just didn’t need to buy…since we’re savvy traveler types).

The difference between the two types of cars is astounding–like the difference between New York City and Russellville, Arkansas. We had long padded sleeper seats (one each) and no one was there to challenge our dominion over said seats. The inside was 70x less crowded, less noisy and a million times cleaner. In other words, a perfect microcosm of the extreme disparities of wealth and over-population in India.  As a tribute to my impatience or perhaps karmic retribution, I spent the majority of the train ride dashing back and forth between my bed and the toilet (Delhi-Belly, coming out of both ends).

Ah, but we arrived. In one piece. And Jailasmer is one of my favorite travel destinations. Oh India–it truly is incredible, in every sense of the world.

*Train tickets in India are sold by class with significant jumps in price between each level. They are: first, second AC, second non AC, and third–oh and roof seating which is always free, but never guaranteed.

Quick Tip #6: Forms of Transport

Getting around in Cambodia is fairly easy–in the sense that you have 25 options and you can arrange almost any form of transport to take you anywhere you want (especially if you’re willing to pay). Caution: patience required. On any type of shared transport (shared taxi, minibus, or bus) you will undoubtedly make unexpected and prolonged stops. In other words, in the land of rubber time, you should forget the “exact time” they told you and expect to arrive at “some point”. If you’ve traveled in Latin America, Africa or other parts of Asia, it’s the same or… same, same but different.

So armed with courage, a little faith in humanity and a lot of patience, you should be able to navigate your way through big cities, the countryside and across national borders without too many problems.

Inner city transit usually happens on foot, bike, moto, taxis, buses, or–where lucky–the metro/train. But, depending on where you are in the world, don’t be afraid to hop on a tuk tuk, a cycle-rickshaw, or really anything with wheels/hooves. Always be sure to negotiate a price first and make sure your driver really does know your final destination. Sometimes drivers will cut a deal with you on the price if you agree to go in and look at their friend’s shop. They get a commission for just bringing you by. It’s harmless and sometimes you can even find good stuff.  If you’re in a hurry though, make it clear that there are no extra stops.

Transit between cities exists in just a many forms: private and shared taxis (very common in Cambodia), minibuses, large buses, trains, hiking/treking, and boats–to name a few. Most of them will depend on your time and travel preferences.  ALWAYS bring snacks and toilet paper–10 hours will quickly turn into 15 or 20 for thousands of inexplicable reasons.

Overnight bus tip: In some buses you will get the option to try sleeper carriages (pass if you’re claustrophobic, think overhead bins on the plane but with sliding doors) and bed or semi-bed recliners (cama and semi-cama in my beloved South America).  Of the three, I usually choose the semi-bed (for long bus rides it’s a million times better than just the regular seats), because the price difference to full bed isn’t worth it for me.

Just remember, emergency care is not always easy to access and in many places it doesn’t exist. So, have fun, try new adventures but use good sense. Sometimes it’s worth an extra $1 to bump up your transit plans.

Wherever you go and however you chose to get there, remember to tread lightly. The path you’re taking is only around because those who came before you took care (or, at least, didn’t destroy it). The planet is hovering over a great, dark abyss right now, so let’s try not to kick it over the edge. There are ways to enjoy travel and leave plenty behind for future generations to enjoy too.

I’ll post soon on green travel tips, but in the mean time..check out these sites:

Responsible Travel

Travel Green

Rustic Pathways (my roommate’s former employer)

What are you doing in Cambodia?

As much as I like the vision of a roaming jet-setter without purpose or time constraints on the road, it would definitely get old.  Well, only the without purpose bit.

This summer, I’ll be completing the field work requirement for my master’s degree. I’m currently a student of the Master’s in Development Practice (MDP) program at the School of International and Public Affairs at Columbia University in New York.    The core of our degree curriculum is that an integrated approach to development challenges is required to make any substantial changes for the lives of the poor around the world. In other words, we can’t solve poverty by looking only at income or that AIDS is simply a problem in health.  Both poverty and AIDS (as well as hundreds of other issues confronting the developing world) will required multisector policies and action to change lives at the individual and community level. Thus, our program promotes an integrated analysis of agriculture, health, education, management and sustainable development for policymaking and field work.

It does, however, seem to  focus mostly on agriculture and health. Gender issues (and all social issues for that matter), urban challenges and cultural studies are all conspicuous by their absence–as is my beloved Latin America.  I’m afraid that’s a subject for another day, though. In spite of a few qualms here and there, I firmly believe that an integrated approach will yield the greatest impact on the lives of the poor and struggling worldwide, and I’m very honored to be part of such an amazing group of students working all over the world this summer.

Students in my program (all 27 of us) are spread out across much of Africa and three sites in Asia: Senegal, Kenya, Ethiopia, Uganda, Mozambique, TANZANIA, Bangladesh, East Timor and Cambodia. All of the sites in Africa and the one in East Timor are Millennium Village sites. The other two Asian sites are managed under different organizations, but still promote the principles of the Millenium Village (MV) concept: given a certain dollar input per person  (between $60-120 a year) a poor, rural village can achieve the Millennium Development Goals in 10 years based on a series of integrated policies.

This summer, I’ll be working for an MV-type project in the Battambang Province in Cambodia. The project is small, locally run (mostly) and only in this area (for now). It does have some pretty stringent confidentiality requirements for its staff and interns, so I won’t be able to publicly describe a lot of detail on my projects or work here (it’s kind of silly, I know–but I think much of the confidentiality restrictions comes with good reason and I like working here, so that is that). The headquarters are based in an urban setting, but a lot of the work happens in a rural area very nearby (which I will be visiting later today and staying overnight until tomorrow).

My job this summer will be to help the women’s empowerment coordinator and assist in developing the capacity of women in the rural area, as well as, help the organization realize its mandate in improving the lives of women.  I’m very excited about this opportunity. I’ve worked some with women’s groups before (in the Arkansas Delta while in undergrad and later in Rwanda while I was a Watson Fellow) and I’ve always enjoyed the experience. In a post to soon follow, I will describe the conditions facing women in Cambodia and give context to the need for greater empowerment, autonomy and agency among women in this country. I will also discuss why Battambang has so many NGOs working in the region and how being the final stronghold of the Khmer Rouge has affected the people who live and work here.

But for now, it’s time to get back to work! If there are any questions you have about MDP, the integrated approach, Cambodia, women’s empowerment, or anything else I will do my best to answer them!

Until next time…

Quick Tip #5: What to do when you look different than everyone else

I am the world’s best tribute to the recessive gene. Okay, so there’s been no official competition, but I’m fairly confident in my chances at the title should the opportunity present itself.  I have bright curly redhair, blue eyes, pale skin and a zillion freckles. This particular genetic combination is, biologically speaking, rarer than your chances of being struck by lighting or eaten by a shark. It’s rare enough in the West (with redheads making up about 4% of the population in Europe, Australia and the US), but virtually non-existent in the rest of the world.

Thus, “blending in” has never really been a successful travel strategy for me (except for my 2.5 month stint in Northern Ireland). Kids in the US think my freckles are strange enough to point and ask questions, in many places my skin and hair will be rubbed, prodded and the subject of general laughter, ridicule and other kinds of conversation. It’s typically good-natured, but it’s still hard to not let it get to you.

A red flag waving in the wind

Here are some strategies I’ve come up with to try to deal with the extra (often unwanted) attention:

1. Keep your cool. I’m not particularly fond of my freckles, but I’ve come to accept them as part of the redhead package (which I love). I know the first time seeing someone with very pale skin covered in a mass of brown dots must be strange. People usually want to understand your differences and see how you are similar, not tease or belittle you. So, let them poke a little and ask questions. Keep your smile on and try to joke about it, rather than get frustrated and angry with them.  Besides, I don’t want to give any other culture fodder for the redheads are bad tempered stereotype.

2. Know your audience. In Latin America the attention is usually benign and I’m seen as exotic rather than diseased. In India, women and men dye their hair red for luck and to show youthfulness. In Rwanda, red hair is associated with albinos and vitamin A deficiency–signs of sickness and bad luck. Knowing those little things about how my stranger-than-usual gringo/mzungu/barang appearance affects local people when they see me, helps me to manage the situation a little better.

3. Try to blend in where possible. Though physically I may stick out like a sore thumb, I typically try to adapt my dress to fit in a little better. Covering up whatever seems necessary (including sometimes my hair, i.e.:  in a temple or conservative muslim area) and trying not to make my foreign-ness any more obvious.

4. Remember you are, in fact, a foreigner. The well-traveled will often tell you that the most successful moments of their travels have been the times where they felt treated like locals. Received local prices, knew how to order their favorite local dish in the local language, or made a joke that traveled across the great cultural divide. You get the idea. But, it’s important not to take yourself too seriously. You are a foreigner (no matter how genuine your interest in the location) and you will probably always be one.

Enjoy these little moments. They’re stuff that makes travel exciting and keeps you on your toes…however tired your toes might already be.

Never Again (except when inconvenient or hard)

“Out of our memory of the Holocaust we must forge an unshakable oath with all civilized people that never again will the world fail to act in time to prevent this terrible crime of genocide. We must harness the outrage of our own memories to stamp out oppression wherever it exists. We must understand that human rights and human dignity are indivisible.” – Jimmy Carter

Today I went to S21,  former security prison camp under Pol Pot turned memorial museum. The one time high school was converted into a prison camp soon after the new regime took power and forcibly moved city dwellers in Phnom Penh to rural areas to work the fields.  The stories of genocide, mass murder, torture that unfolded from 1975 to 1979 in Cambodia are horrific.  This tragic period of Cambodian history will continually resurface throughout my summer here. For those remiss on the details, I promise to post another entry soon with background and some initial impressions. But, for now, back to the day touring the prison camp.

The five buildings of S21 have changed very little since S21 was closed down (as the regime fell in 79). It  housed between 1500-2000 prisoners at any one time and an estimated 17,000+ people lost their lives in its walls. It was both detention center and torture headquarters for the Khmer Rouge. Many original pieces are on display in the various rooms including beds and instruments of torture. It is, to say the least, a chilling experience–wandering through the halls and rooms of the large complex, imagining the people who lived and died in its walls.

That being said, I was fairly disappointed with the museum as a whole. In fact, other than physically existing, a few original items and a couple of displays with explanations, it’s not much of a museum. Visitors are left to hazard guesses as to what rooms, buildings and floors were used for and to imagine the scenarios of the various instruments and the few blurry (and bloody) photographs.

I spent nearly 13 months roaming around the world learning and investigating reconciliation, justice and post-conflict healing (Thank you, Thomas J. Watson). During a year that took me to 15 countries and over 50 cities, I lived a thousand lifetimes: marching for peace with Buddhist monks in Ladkah, interviewing genocide victims in Bugesera, hearing the stories of torture victims in Santiago, witnessing historic elections in Capetown, and dialoguing on reconciliation in Ballycastle.  And, what started out as a year of academic investigation on nonviolence and reconciliation, became an attempt to understand the depth and limits of forgiveness. I discovered that the people and places who seemed to be most healed from the trauma of their country’s past, were those who had both had the opportunity (perhaps on many occasions) to share their story and those who felt that justice had been served (those responsible have been thoroughly punished and a new, better life for the victims).

Having only been in Cambodia a short time, I’m not prepared to say how the average Cambodian feels about opportunities to share their stories or feel that justice has been served (I have my suspicions though). If this museum is any indication, however, the opportunities for story-telling have either not happened or the institutions aren’t in place for sharing the victims’ stories with a wider audience (maybe even young Cambodians). Museums and commemorative parks, in my opinion, are a critical medium for displaying, remembering and learning about the history and struggles of a people.

The most successful example I’ve seen is the Genocide Memorial Centre in Kigali, Rwanda. The museum provides a well-documented account of pre and post genocide Rwanda in three different languages (English, French and Kinyarwanda).  Their website also has many of the exhibits and has individual stories from survivors who have elected to participate.  It was moving, heartbreaking and incredibly informative all at the same time. Other successful examples I’ve seen include the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg, the Holocaust Museum in DC and Villa Grimaldi outside of Santiago.

At the end of the Genocide Memorial Museum in Kigali, they offer a comparison of similar events from around the world. At the beginning of this exhibit Jimmy Carter’s famous Never Again quote is painted in large letters on the wall. It serves as an eerie background to the pictures from around the world that occurred before and after his famous words. Never Again seems to be a false promise. It has happened again and again. It is happening now.

Unfortunately, the events that led to the horrific scenes in Cambodia, Rwanda, South Africa, Chile (…Argentina, China, USSR, Bosnia, Yugoslavia, Sudan, etc…) are not that different from one another.  In the case of genocide3, torture and mass murder having a physical space to act as a repository  of stories is a way to give people a voice and allow the world to hear it.  More opportunities to learn about these tragic events means the better our chances for a true Never Again. The more we, as a people who share this planet, learn about one another, the more we will see our similarities instead of our differences. When the stories stop becoming their stories and instead become our stories, we can look forward to a future of Never Again. At least…that is my sincerest hope.

Kampot

Kampot is a small riverside town nearish to the Vietnamese border. It has a number of French colonial buildings still intact and boasts a nearby eco reserve (Bokor national park), caves (some with Buddhist temples predating Angkor Wat inside), salt fields, pepper mills, and a generally sluggish, relaxing pace. In fact, the pace is so sluggish many people intending to stay only a day end up here for weeks and even months (notably a large number of old hippies–even one who had spent quite a bit of time keeping it weird in Austin). I couldn’t spend much more than 3 days here (leaving tomorrow for PP again), but it’s been an adventure so far.

We tried to rent a scooter to get around the city and see the caves, but it was a major failure and we ended up with a tuk tuk driver instead!   The cave closest, Phnom Ch’nork, to the city wasn’t as exciting as I’d imagined (it’s very small cave with one old carving in the middle of it), but a lot of local children volunteered to be tourguides for us. They took us through the cave and helped us navigate underneath to come out on the other side. We also played an exciting game of hide and seek with them and while we were waiting on the rain to stop, I taught them how to play hangman. It’s incredible how well some of them speak English! I’ve met a lot of very bright children (who know the tourist business well, a theme to discuss in a later post). Then we took a brief peak at the salt fields which have been converted into rice fields during the rainy season and dipped our toes in the “Secret Lake” which is actually a reservoir built under the Pol Pot regime in the area (and is not so secret).

Today we went to a nice area slightly north of Kampot’s city center on the river. It’s a guesthouse/restaurant/chill out spot called Olly’s.   I highly recommend it, if you’re in the area and looking for a place to relax for a few days (the downside is that it’s a about 3km outside of town and the tuk tuk ride to town costs $2–which is roughly the price of a cocktail).  We just spent the afternoon there, lazing about and drinking yummy fresh fruit smoothies. Then in the afternoon we took a two hour sunset boat cruise on the river ($5 for Captain Chim’s boat cruise) and topped the evening off with a round of drinks at a Art Bar Craze– a cooky, but fun French art/music bar, where a few old hippies sang bluegrass.

All in all, it’s been a nice stay here in quiet Kampot. The crowd is a bit older (40’s and 50’s on average), but it’s a great place to spend a few days. Tourism seems to blend more seamlessly into the community here with expats and locals working side by side. There also seems to be a genuine interest by all who live and travel in Kampot to “get to know” and “learn” rather than just zip by.

The fame of the pepper remains a mystery, but I’ll try to bring back a little to share.

Pepper wisely.

Sihanoukville & Koh Rung Island

Travel in Cambodia is much less developed than the mammoth circuits of Vietnam and Thailand.  That being said, there are few tried and true spots that keep travelers coming through the borders (even outside of Angkor Wat).

The southern coast of Cambodia has many beautiful beaches, towns and chances to visit a few islands. Following the advice of many others, we decided to head down to Sihanoukville to check things out.

SIHANOUKVILLE is the 4th largest city in Cambodia. I’d heard mixed reviews about the town before arriving and I understand why. It’s one of those “I’ve been here before” kind of places. A town (“city”) where people were already living but exploded in growth once tourism arrived. It’s a little bit BoHo, a little bit grunge and not at all what you’re looking for if you want a quiet beach holiday. The beaches are somewhat clean and the water is warm, but locals swarm the beaches from day until night trying to sell anything and everything you can imagine–often pestering you nonstop until you by something or get a little aggressive. They haven’t really figured out tourism yet in Snooky (as its affectionately called amongst grungy hippie backpackers). On the whole, I say it’s a great place for anyone looking to party or do the backpacker thing. Other than that, you might skip it and head straight to the islands. There are many to choose from! We only stayed one night there before we left for Koh Rung Island.

KOH RUNG ISLAND is the largest of the islands near Sihanoukville. It takes about 3 hours to get there by boat (don’t be fooled by the “two hour” story). There are about 4 areas with guest houses/bungalows on the island and all of them are very basic. Just a couple of beds with mosquito nets over them, a toilet, if you’re lucky a shower head, and electricity runs from 6pm-10pm.  So think a little bit Robinson Crusoe only there are about 10-15 other people with you, a small village on the island and a little restaurant and bar.  It is honestly one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. White sandy beaches, warm crystal clear waters and fairly untouched by the world. It will probably only stay like this for another year or two, so best get to getting if you want to see it as is(big resort companies are getting itchy to move in)!

We stayed 3 nights on the island and other than the monstrous sunburn, I loved every minute of it. If you bore easily of the beach or need tv/internet/electricity all the time, this probably isn’t the place for you–but give it a try even if you’re in doubt. You might actually love it!

Then we left for Kampot…land of the legendary pepper.

Happy Beach Bumming!

Phnom Penh: initial thoughts

When I first arrived, I couldn’t believe how different Phnom Penh and Bangkok were. I had already settled in comfortably to the familiarity of  bright lights, free wifi and easy public transit in Bangkok and I was immediately tossed out of that cushy-comfort zone.

Don’t get me wrong, Phnom Penh (or as my brother has taken to calling it Pine Poo) is  a great city. It’s safe, fairly clean (no public sanitation issues or trash on the streets) and it’s much smaller than it’s Asian megacity neighbors with plenty to do still. It’s the rainy season here so every day around 3pm the skies open up and the great deluge begins. Sometimes it stops a little bit later and sometimes it goes on all night. The city pretty much shuts down around 10pm except for expat bars and restaurants (which are fairly common throughout the city).

Main forms of transport around the city include motos, tuk tuks and, if you’re lucky enough to know someone, a car. The city is quite small but it has a strange (seemingly random) numbered street plan. Still, most tuk tuk drivers and people in the city seem to follow landmarks instead of the numbered system.

In terms of dress,  people wear mainly Western-style clothes (jeans, t-shirts, button ups, mid-calf length skirts, etc). Both men and women are fairly modest in their dressing, mostly wearing jeans or long pants. I, myself, perplexed by the pant-wearing-locals who manage to look clean and fresh each day in spite of the ~80 degree (27 C) weather with 84% humidity. EIGHTY-FOUR percent.  Of course, I’m sweating buckets and just trying to keep enough water in!

Highlights so far: Russian Market, Vege to go (a vegetarian wrap shop near the Independence Monument) , and wandering down by the river.

Still to come on my return: a visit to the Royal Palace (we were not allowed in because they require covered shoulders and knees–and you can’t just use a scarf—and my two friends had only covered up with a long shawl over there hot-weather-appropriate tanktops) and a sunset cruise down the river (where the Tonle Sap meets the Mekong)

More soon!