En Route to Siem Reap, Cambodia

Rusty mud and red rocks fly up behind the grinding wheels of our taxi. A motorbike carrying a family of four speeds noisily past. Outside my window water buffalo graze through hopelessly flooded rice fields. Deficient farmland stretches endlessly into the the horizon, green, brown, and dull. My neck stiffens as my head collides with the back seat when we hit yet another pothole. Suddenly the car horn blares and I turn my attention to the road in front of us just in time to see the driver swerve to avoid an oncoming herd of charging cattle.
This is Cambodia. More specifically, the outlying region between it's northwest border with Thailand and the city of Siem Reap, near temples of Angkor. Though the road through this territory is unpaved and filled with potholes, we're told it's been under construction for several years. Greed and corruption allow it to remain mysteriously unfinished. Each years progress is washed away in September by the coming of the monsoon season. It's only 150km from the border to our destination of Siem Reap, but we've been told our journey will take over four hours. By bus it would have taken more than six.
I'd call this a no man's land, except people have to live here. Many, many people. Farmers mostly, though this land is far from fertile. A grand effort must be required to achieve even mediocre results. Farming is a tough business no matter where you're doing it, but the tools used here appear medieval when compared to what I've seen in the American mid-west. There is no great irrigation system, no sleek, modern sprinklers. No planes dive bombing pesticide, or John Deer tractors to plough the land. Farming here is done the way it's been done for centuries, by human hands, with the aid of animals and simple tools.
Judging from the poverty the people here live in, their back-breaking efforts yield little results. The homes along this road are small thatch huts, stilted high off of the ground to avoid flooding. Those lucky enough to afford electricity have it provided by generators which operate with less and less frequency due to the rising cost of oil. Most families don't own their own cars, and the local bus is an over sized flat-bed truck which can be seen barreling down the road with thirty or more people stuffed onto the back.
For those born into this area there is little hope of ever leaving. Though education is technically free, teacher salaries are so low that students are often required students to pay them a little extra each day to attend. Those who can't afford the small sum are turned away. Sent home to their families to help out in the fields, or be shipped off to the city to work in garment factories. Many beg tourists for money on the side of the road.
I feel ashamed to be here, to be so fascinated by all this. Voyeuristically intruding on these people's misery from the safety and comfort of an air conditioned car. This taxi ride alone will cost more than most of these people earn in a whole month.
As the sun sets darkness swallows up the surrounding countryside. The sides of the road are dimly lit by occasional neon blue tubes of light. These lamps are traps used to attract crickets. The insects attracted will jump against white plastic sheets hung behind the lights and fall into the pools of water below. In the morning they will be collected by families who will fry them up and sell them in town as popular, crispy snacks.
When we finally reach Siem Reap the road goes from rough dirt to smooth concrete nearly instantaneously. Traffic chokes the streets. Gone are the thatch huts along the roadside, replaced by seemingly endless rows of garish, Las Vegas style hotels. Precious resources are flagrantly squandered on excessive lighting and kitschy atmosphere. There is no shame to this display of wealth. Fancy restaurants with clean white linen and polished silverware mock the thin forms of the impoverished children in the streets.
This country, unlike neighboring Thailand, has few restrictions on outside investment. As in many parts of the world, the gap between rich and poor here is growing. The majority of the upscale businesses are owned by foreigners, or the wealthy Cambodian elite. Even the nearby cultural icon of Angkor Wat is owned and managed privately. This is not secret, and there is no attempt to hide it. It's all done in the open, to the shame and detriment of the proud Cambodian people.
Siem Reap has experienced a massive boom since it opened itself to tourism again just over ten years ago. Even in the two and a half years since I was last here it has grown exponentially. Property prices are on the rise, and soon many Cambodians will be unable to afford to live here, much less start their own businesses. Many will inevitably leave, but the majority will probably stay, taking what jobs are available to them. Becoming working class servants to their own cultural heritage.
Our cab reaches the center of town, and we transfer our luggage to a tuk-tuk that will take us to our hotel. Following the advice of the refreshingly candid driver we decide to stay at the Villa Coconut Lodge, a locally owned budget guesthouse. It's incredibly clean and well maintained, with fresh paint and stylish wooden furniture. For only US$10 a night we are able to afford a room with a large ceiling fan, double bed, hot water and cable television.
It's been a long day. Coming to Cambodia is always an exhilarating and exhausting experience, and the long, slow road today made it especially difficult to endure. But it's worth it. The people you meet here are friendly, and not jaded yet by tourism. They are open, and for the most part honest, and eager to share their culture with those who are interested. Cambodia may not be the easiest place to travel, but those willing to make journey will find it one of the most rewarding.