(Phnom Bakheng at Angkor, Siem Reap, Cambodia)
I'm back in Thailand after almost a week in Siem Reap, Cambodia, but this time in the southern (beachy) part of the country. I feel much more confident about the trip than I did at the time of my last post, but I do feel like I've been gone for much longer than two weeks. Peace and love to the creators of WhatsApp for keeping me connected.
In that time, I've traveled to Cambodia by bus, explored Angkor, saw Siem Reap, went to a circus, lived among mango trees and stray dogs, returned to Bangkok via plane and then flew to Krabi in southern Thailand. The nine-hour bus ride from Bangkok to Siem Reap allowed me to see so much more of the two countries than I would have from an airplane window. Open-air stands housing food, produce and other goods lined the road much of the way through Thailand -- a bit different than the suburbs Americans know.
The Cambodian border was chaotic, noisy, hot and dusty, which foreshadowed my soon-to-be living quarters. There were people everywhere, and the process to get a visa and get it stamped felt antiquated. Maybe it was because we were shuffled into a tiny building that looked like something from the Sheboygan County Fair Grounds (kind of run down, stinky, stuffy, noisy). The landscape was different, too -- the buildings looked pieced together, and garbage littered the sides of the roads.
(50-cent beers and $1.50 margs! Pub Street in Siem Reap, Cambodia)
However, I loved Siem Reap upon arrival. The Khmer New Year was about to begin, and the city came to life with neon lights, glittering decorations and an influx of people. Sarith, who became my tuk tuk driver for the week, picked me up from the bus station and drove me to my Airbnb.
(My driveway/sidewalk/road/neighbor's yard in Siem Reap, Cambodia)
The place was right in the middle of a neighborhood, and by neighborhood I mean a cluster of homes. The roads are unnamed dirt paths winding through people's "yards." It felt like a big campground, and I was excited to be there -- until it got dark. I decided to walk to Pub Street, an area with cheap food and drinks, which was about a mile away. As I headed back, I realized there weren't any street lights in the neighborhoods, and Google Maps was guiding me to paths that weren't roads in the way Americans know them (even for someone from rural Random Lake). I ended up in areas with literal flaming piles of garbage, huge rats, fighting stray dogs and people who could clearly tell I was a lost tourist. I felt like a target, and it was one of the few times I've been scared to walk alone.
I made it back safely, and during the day, I didn't have any fear about being alone in the area. The neighbors were incredibly friendly, always smiling, saying hi and even bringing me fresh mangoes (which, by the way, did you know they grow like this?). I spent two days exploring incredible Angkor; meeting up with Jaclyn (the woman I met on the plane to Bangkok) at Phare, a Cambodian circus with no sad animals and an awesome live band; and trying a lot of new food, including vegetarian amok (loved) and fresh coconut juice served inside the coconut (gross -- did not taste like some kind of sweet Malibu drink).
One of the most common questions I get when I tell people I'm traveling alone is, "Are you scared?", which is usually followed by "Be careful!" There are very few times (including the one above) in my life that I truly felt in danger, which I think is accurate considering I'm a middle-class white woman who's lived in Northeast Wisconsin her entire life, despite what many people who also live there believe.
The culture of fear in America is out of control. Bad things are highly unlikely to happen, but many of us only hear/think/talk about what's wrong instead of what's right. The Gift of Fear: Survival Signals that Protect Us From Violence by Gavin De Becker is a fantastic book about fear as an instinct and how as humans, we've lost touch with our ability to detect it. (It also makes some excellent points about society's expectations of women and how they're detrimental to a woman's ability to avoid a hazardous situation until it's too late.) De Becker talks about how worried we get about everything, from what someone thinks of us to that something bad will happen. He cites research from another author and makes this observation about most people:
"They believe that worrying about something will stop it from happening. He also correctly notes that most of what people worry about has a low probability of occurring, because we tend to take action about those things we feel are likely to occur. This means that very often the mere fact that you are worrying about something is a predictor that it isn’t likely to happen!”
Another really powerful quote from De Becker:
“Most men fear getting laughed at or humiliated by a romantic prospect while most women fear rape and death.”
...a concern that holds a lot of women back from traveling. Watch for future blogs highlighting some of the things I did and the experience as a woman traveling alone, and you can decide if a fear you or someone you know has about traveling is a worry or a reality. Before I get off my soapbox, I'd like to say if introverted me can do this (I'll leave the judgment about how well I'm doing up to you), you can do it, too.
(This was the main road through the neighborhood where I stayed. Siem Reap, Cambodia)
One more thing -- I update my Instagram with photos from my trip more often than this blog, so check it out if you haven't lately. Now I'm off to turn into a giant blister from this tropical Thailand sun. Sorry about the ice and snow for everyone back in Wisconsin.