Cambodia to Burma and Why Military Juntas Suck

It's been a while since I used WordPad on a 56K connection... bear with me.

I sit here in a steamy Burmese internet cafe, rubbing my scars (bike riding never does get easier... how many days does it take to get the hang of making lefts??) and contemplating how I'm going to survive the next 3 days on 21 dollars. I'm falling more and more in love with this country as the days go by... but my absolute revulsion for the military junta is subsequently magnified. Swaggering wankers. Some asshole doodled all over my passport this morning at a checkpoint on the road to Inle Lake. ON MY FAVORITE PAGE. I'll post a photo later. You'll be enraged, I guarantee you. Since the attempt at posting photos (much less uploading them) seems near comical given the rudimentary internet I'm seated in front of, I'll expand.

I had one perfect page in my passport. Four, neatly stamped visas-- two from Sri Lanka (my favorite country) and two from Israel (almost my favorite country)... in black, neatly in their boxes, with crisp and sharp edges. Ahhh--- (considering that border guards do this ALL day EVERY day, you'd be surprised at the number who can't even use a stamp correctly.) It was lovely. Around 2 in the morning, after 11 hours of listening to Burmese pop at full volume on a bus from Yangon to Inle Lake, we stopped at a checkpoint, and I was called in to sign some forms... as usual. The guard, after asking me my name about a million times, wrote it down wrong in the booklet. When I attempted to point this out, he waved my index finger away irritably and began looking at my visa stamps. Minute after minute passed as he stared and glared at the colorful items... until he finally cleared his throat, whipped out his pen, and used my favorite page to test out the ink of his ballpoint before thrusting it back at me and, once again, writing my name down wrong in his booklet.

WANKER.

You all think I'm overreacting. Maybe I am... but even so, punching him in the belly would have made me feel better. After travelling for a while, you get to take quite a bit of pride in your passport... and when some iron fisted dictator-worshipping nob uses your favorite page to make sure the ink in his 25 cent pen is working, it makes you angry.

Anyway!

I think I should update on Cambodia considering that there's been nothing from me in several weeks... and the country is not one to be glossed over. After passing from Don Det in 4,000 Islands over the border, I made my way down to Kratie, a little town on the Mekong known as one of the last places on earth you can still see Irrawaddy dolphins. The dolphins remained unseen, even as we crept, stealth mode, with only 2 screaming motors down a stretch of river only plagued by 14 other boats full of tourists with cameras. INCONCEIVABLE! A little further out, we managed to glimpse a couple, and my camera went wild photographing the ripples left behind in the water.

One stop in Phnom Penh and I was on to Kampot afterwards to laze on the river and look cool riding a motorbike for a few days. I haven't quite gotten the hang of U-turns, but after a few minutes of rolling back and forth in place on the side of the road, I'm off! Louis, my teacher for the day, and I made our way to Kep, a one-time beach resort before the Khmer Rouge rolled in, killed everybody, and burned everything to the ground. There's not much-- but we managed to score a bag of 7 deliciously steamed crabs for 5 USD. At 3 crabs in, we were stuffed,... and it became much like hazing in a fraternity at one point-- each of us goading each other on to eat just ONE more crab. I think I was worse off after that than any frat party I went to in college. Crustaceans are not meant to be taken like tequila shots.

I won't discuss Sihanoukville or Koh Rong much except to say that they were spectacular-- made even better by the presence of Matt, a hot Australian surfer who managed to score a couple days off work flying planes to come and get jiggy on the beach with me. (Was that the correct way to use "jiggy"? I never know) Between us, we managed to pack in a lot of miles of beach, a lot of yummy seafood, and a lot of free beer. After a night of pubbing, clubbing, and casino-player elbow-rubbing, Matt had to get back to Kratie in the morning for work, and I was left on my own to nurse a hangover and put up with a hoard of 18 year old English gap-yearers. Ugh. Then on to Koh Rong- it was awesome. The water was spectacular, and I had enough time to finally tweeze my eyebrows... for the first time in months.

Up to Battambang (wonderful place!) and then on to Siem Reap for some temple climbing. Angkor Wat was spectacular. Really... really spectacular. 13 hours on a bicycle riding around and posing with this statue and that may have killed my skin and affinity for bike riding... but not my spirit! On this trip, I've seen 5 "Wonders of the World" ... and I really think Angkor Wat is my favorite. The Taj Mahal was a snore, Tikal was overrated, and the pyramids were devoid of any shade whatsoever from the merciless Egyptian sun (although they themselves were incredible). We arrived at the Wat for sunrise and spent much of the next few hours exploring the Wat itself as well as Bayon, the center-piece of Angkor Thom. What makes A.W. better than a lot of other temples and statues is the elaborate chiseling on the walls. No part of the compound (the largest of it's kind in the world) is without gorgeous inscriptions and pictures of naked ladies. It's also so big that almost 50% of the time, Alex (my English companion) and I found ourselves completely alone to wander the ruins in solitude. I'll post photos later.

OK, well--- this post is already too long and I don't think I have enough kyat to pay for the time I've already used. On arrival to Mandalay, I'll post more about Burma...