Koh Phi Phi (pre-tsunami)

Ahhhhh, Koh Phi Phi. I'm sure this is going to be one of my favorite spots of all time. The plan was for my friend Laura to meet me here a day later, but she had some business to attend to and couldn't make it. SO, I ended up here alone which has turned out to be fine actually. I've been getting my open water diving certification. It has been great and I have a one-on-one with a British instructor - Leo - who is fabulous. Not only is he a great diver, he's a passionate naturalist and points out every cool marine creature he finds. Its been really fun.

I've ended up staying at the Phi Phi Princess which is SO wonderful. I can't leave out how I got here though. I was at the Tara "Resort" and while skeptical upon check-in, my fears were realized as I woke up with a prickly feeling all to discover ants crawling all over me. Needless to say, I checked out first thing in the morning and checked into the Phi Phi Princess with no regrets. I have my very own wonderful little wood bungalow - wide planked wood floors - with fresh orchids left for me every day. It has been amazing and I already know I must return.



Diving has been the best. I'm hooked. I've seen so many little fantastic creatures - starfish, moorish idols, butterfly fish, clownfish, parrotfish, and my most personal favorite, lionfish. I saw a whole school of lionfish actually which is a bit rare. They were amazing. So graceful and soft as they move through the water.
I must have eaten as this great little Thai place "Lemongrass" almost every day. The woman who runs it, Kay, is a beautiful little Thai woman who always makes me an extra juicy mango fruitshake. Her Penang is among the best I have ever had and don't even get me started on the Green Curry.


One thing I noticed unique to Koh Phi Phi are the kitties. There are cats everywhere. Large, small, and kittens!! I heard these little cries one afternoon and found this little teeny thing. I "adopted" him, gave him some milk out of my mini-bar and he has ended up staying on my porch for four days. I would love to take him home, but I doubt US customs would exactly sail me right through.


Koh Phi Phi is a wonderful little sleepy island. I can imagine tourism will take it over eventually and it will turn into Koh Samui. Hopefully not. It is so picturesque and simple and I SO hope to return. I have had breakfast on the beach every morning and just soaked in the beautiful scenery at every turn. . . the beach, the boats, the pool, and of course, the diving.

The Tale of the Lost Ticket and the Monivong Motos

So I'm sitting in the Bangkok airport waiting to catch my flight south to Phuket - and on to Koh Phi Phi. I actually barely made it. Just a quick tale before I get on my flight. I had many errands yesterday before I left Phnom Penh, one of which was to pick up my ticket at RTR travel. Wading through GETTING the ticket was hard enough (a WHOLE other story). Let me preface this story with illustrating the typical method of getting around in phnom penh. There are thousands of "motos" (motobike drivers). (they don't say motoRbike, they say "motObike"). Since they are everywhere, all one has to do is walk outside and hear the word "moto for you lady" echoing through the streets in rounds. You just hop on the back and they take you anywhere you want to go all for the tune of, at MOST, 2000 riels (about 50 cents). SO, I hire myself a moto driver for an hour and head out to pick up my ticket, run to central market to get a lonely planet Thailand (sadly a decent bootleg copy can be found anywhere), run into this little shop to get a pair of earrings I had seen earlier in the week (jewelry always a priority).

I was running around like the typical madwoman I am during the last day so that I could meet some friends at 5:00 back at the Bhodi Tree restaurant for dinner. Well, I was stopping by the apartment to get some more cash and I realized on street 63, that I had gone past where we lived. I usually mark the apartment by telling the moto driver - "near wat koh" (a big buddhist temple). I no longer recognized where I was, so I got out my map, showed the moto driver where to go (always a challenge, since most moto drivers don't really get into the map thing unless there is a temple involved). As we got back on course, I realized, I didn't have my airline ticket in my bag. Before I panicked, we stopped so I could empty everything out of my bag onto the street . . . and also so the Khmer people could stare at the crazy frantic western woman in wonderment. Now I knew for CERTAIN that I didn't have my ticket. It was 4:45 and I knew that I had to get back to the travel agency since they were closing and I was leaving in the early morning. I tried to explain to Mr. Moto Man where to go (keep in mind, English exists of wat something, wat something, wat something, and 2000 riels. "Travel agency" wasn't exactly a big part of the vocabulary. I finally got him to Monivong Boulevard (the Van Ness of Phnom Penh) and he kept trying to turn around to go to wat Koh!!!

As the clock was ticking away, I continued to freak out. After turning around about 4 more times, I finally just jumped OFF the moto and started running down the middle of Monivong Boulevard toward RTR travel. I was the ship and the hundreds of Monivong Motos were the parting water. I couldn't help but laugh at myself and the sight it must have been, sprinting the wrong way down the middle of the busiest street in the city at rush hour. Out of breath, I make it to the travel agency where they sadly tell me, that I would have to buy a new ticket. This wasn't exactly Northwest Airlines E-ticketing. PAPER tickets are still the only way to go here. I didn't know what to do, so I asked one of the guys there to run me over to the store I was before just to double check. Got there . . . uh, no sight of the ticket. The tears were just welling up. Hopelessly, I asked him to drive down street 63 (where I was lost). My mind of course, was in serious questioning saying "Jessica, how do you expect to find a tiny piece of paper just out around, in the open area in a place you don't even know how to get back to in the first place". It was about 5:30 by this point and all I could do was pray. I just gave it one last shot, driving a few kilometers down the road, looking off the back of the moto right and left, holding on for dear life, when I looked behind me for some reason and saw a flash of blue laying right in the middle of busy street 63. I jumped off, ran over, picked up the paper and the words Bangkok Airlines jumped out at me like a lottery ticket. There, in the middle of the street, the crazy American girl jumping up and down, hugging random Khmer people right and left. . . . I couldn't believe it, 45 minutes later, mylost airline ticket, back in my hands again.

SO, all that to say. this is typical me. Welcome to my world. It will probably never change. I can travel 1/2 a world away, and I'm
still me. My family would call it "the black cloud." (true to some extent). I see it as a constant test. The Universe trying to get me to just CRACK up!! I'm reminded of my friend Paige Porter and all her crazy stories that happen in her many travels for her magazine. I think we probably shouldn't be allowed to travel together. :)

Angkor Wat and the Postcard Children

Angkor Wat, a collection of temples spread out about 40 miles outside the city of Siem Reap, Cambodia. They were all built between the 8th and 13th centuries with the Temple of Angkor as the main temple of the complex. I arrived at Angkor early enough to catch the sunrise. It was quiet and peaceful and felt other-worldly. I was amazed by the architecture itself and the art within. It was emblematic of an ancient cathedral with its long high naves and its quiet transepts. One of the most unique things about the entire temple complex is the variation of religious motifs. Since the Cambodian rulers and kings vascillated between Buddhism and Hinduism, one finds very clear shrines to various buddhas and Hindu dieties. They would simply build new altars right over the old ones. I was amazed to find so much represented in one little area.



After walking around the main temple of Angkor, I headed back out to grab a snack and ran across some great little school-age entrepreneurs. Their english was almost perfect !! When I asked them how they learned such good english, they replied . . . "Oh, we learn alot from talking to the tourists. Where are you from?" I told them I was from San Francisco and the little leader of the gang said to me, "Oh, I know exactly where that is. It is in California and the capital of California is Sacramento." I was amazed by these great little entertainers. They were alot of fun and they BEGGED me to buy their postcards (a very typical thing in tourist destinations all over Southeast Asia - kids selling stuff). I couldn't refuse the postcards - a whole dollar for 8.


I continued out on my Angkor trek to the rest of the temples. I hit the Bayon Temple next which turned out to be my favorite. I think it was the symmetry and proportion that really struck me. It was so similar at every turn, yet it continued to amaze me. I just coudn't believe that something like these temples could be built as early as the 9th century!!



My next stop was the Ta Phrom Temple. It is one that is somewhat close to me since my manufacturers chose to honeymoon here and also made it the namesake of their business. It is fabulously ethereal and completely overgrown by the surrounding jungle. I easily felt like I was in my own little Jumanji movie. It was a playground for photography. In fact, the last cover of the Cambodia Lonely Planet was shot here. Sadly, the pictures pale in comparision to how cool it actually is.



My last stop of the day was at the Bakeng Temple. This is customarily the point where people end the day since it is a wonderful spot to see the sunset. One has the option of taking an elephant to the top or braving the slate steps all the way up. Of course I chose the steps. The tough hike just makes the sight all the more worth it. The temple was interesting in itself, but the best thing was the many languages I heard as I roamed the site snapping sunset shots. As I sat there by myself soaking it all in, I thought to myself how neat it was to have such differences in our nationalities, yet such common threads as people who loved the beauty of the earth. It was a memorable day.

Phnom Penh Landfill

During our time visiting with the children at the orphanage, Soka, the director asked us if we would like to see the place from where many of the children come. Not knowing what to fully expect, I tagged along. A short drive led us to the largest landfill I have ever seen. Not that we all frequent many. . .we may pass one on a country road or rural town. But this was no ordinary landfill. It was the size of Pac Heights, Cow Hollow and the Marina combined. As we got out of the car and approached the area, the smell of methane grew so intense, I remember remarking to myself, “I don’t know how long I will be able to take this.” Right at this moment I saw a small child rummaging through the garbage looking for anything that could claim a price. The photographer in me had to retreat to behind the lens. As I sat there behind my 400mm telephoto, I began to catch anonymous glimpses of life in a landfill: Children running after the garbage truck to claim the premiums amongst the newest arrivals, watching them find such fascination in their new finds. They had it down to a science. They would sort the plastic from the perishables, the metals from the glass, the edibles from the deadly. Here, in the midst of serious oxygen shortage, frail children found a method in the madness. My eyes were unable to connect my brain to what was happening around me. I felt like I was a stranger in a surreal world. Yet, the harshness of reality wouldn’t have me disconnect any longer. A truck came from behind, passed me and I caught a glimpse of two boys in the back trailer. They realized that I was taking their photo and laughed, gestured, & waved excitedly. Amongst an entire cities’ filth, these young children somehow found moments of fun and laughter. I was suddenly aware of the human-ness I had just encountered. This wasn’t an allusion. This was as real as it gets. Barefoot, starving children, living in total waste, scavenging for anything that could offer a profit. All I could do was just weep over my guilt, my ungratefulness, my American citizenship. It was the necessities of life – food, clothing, shelter – staring me in the face, asking me what I thought of myself now. I could have gone in so many directions. The fact of the matter was, … there, in the midst of the broken, the dejected, the unsightly, the barely breathable air, a blessing, in the strangest of packages carved out a new little facet in my understanding of grace. Life was unfair, but this time I knew it was in my favor.

As we made it back to the car, Soka gesturing over the garbage fields saying, “This is hell. Where the rich people are, its Heaven.” Seeing what I’ve seen, he isn’t far from the truth. Even our poorest in America are rich by Cambodian standards.

I’ve learned about just a few of the kinds of sufferings Cambodian children endure. Hundreds of families live for daily garbage trucks. This is their way of life. Poor, starving families often do whatever it takes to survive. . . even sell a child if they have to. Many of the young girls here are sold into slavery for child prostitution. There is one child at CCH that is a product of this kind of dealing. Her family knew her beauty could claim a very high price so they took money, sacrificing their daughter’s innocence. She is indeed a beautiful child, but now protected by law from such criminal acts (many from men traveling here from the U.S & Europe for just such a thing).

Being here only opens eyes to the harsh realities outside of bubble life. We can read about what goes on in poor and volatile areas of the world in our National Geographics & Newsweek. We Hear Oprah tell us to get helping during a “use your life special.” Occasionally one of our liberal newspapers runs a story to fill the NGO quota. But what a privilege, what a surprise, what a gift that I “happened” to come upon something as rare and precious as these children. I’m always amazed by God's work in the world. At the same time, after a bit of thought, I’m not surprised by it at all.

I know we all get those emails that talk about how if we have one dollar in our pockets, we are richer than 95% of the world. At the risk of sounding preachy and cliché, remember as you lay your heads down on your many-thread count pillowcases, think about the little toddlers in the landfill that will lay their heads upon a plastic water bottle, a piece of scrap-metal, a garbage bag. This is night after night with no respite. Therego we but for the grace of God.

CCH and the Mekong River

I'm here in Phnom Penn, and I can only BEGIN to write about the things I've seen so I'm just going to try and hit the highlights here from my first trip to Cambodia. I’ve noticed through the course of my life as a Christian that blessings often come in strange, untidy packages that I would never notice had they not just blindsided me. There is an organization here – CCH (Center for Childrens’ Happiness) which is an orphanage in Phnom Penh that my friend Laura supports with her business. We had the priviledge of visiting there last Sunday. Upon my arrival, I was met with 24 resident children & each greeted me with the traditional southeast asian "wai" (praying hands and bow). I think it was at this point that they noticed. . .not only was I a westerner, I was a fair haired, light skinned, blue eyed westerner. Amidst the oohhhs and aaaahhs and instense looks, one of the older girls took my face in her hands and stared directly into my eyes. I could tell, it was the first time she had ever seen blue eyes. We all sat in the floor and played games, drew pictures, and did schoolwork. The children just wanted interaction. They didn't care what form it came in.

When the time finally came to head out on our outing and we all piled into the little mini-bus and made our way to the river port. Amidst the squeals of delight upon reaching the boat, we adults had to deal with the practical items at hand like water, food, life-jackets and simply . . head counts. It was an amazing time. The kids got to play in the water. Local woman sold us fresh jackfruit and handmade krama's (head scarves). For me, it was my first authentic initiation into this different world and culture. I can't begin to describe the contrast from the hasty way of life in the states. It was moments of being deliberate, of recognizing a precious human being, of soaking in surroundings. I'm very grateful for the day.

Chatuchak Market

Where do I begin. Chatuchak Market - or "JJ Market" as it is often called - is such a feast for the eyes. Everywhere I turned, a photo opportunity. The most amazing thing is just the vast array of STUFF!! From hubcab world to dishes galore, from flip-flop heaven to pet-land, there was never time for my eyes to rest. I will go back again and again. It was so much fun. HOT, but fun. In the midst of shopping, I had a rest for some Thai food and then stopped for a Thai Massage. I could probably live in Chatuchak if I had to. This will certainly be a place to return. Since a picture here really is worth a thousand words, I'll let the shots do the storytelling.