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. :)