Pailin

Some of my 7th graders begged me to go to Pailin (pronounced Pie-lin) with them on Sunday.  I wasn't sure I wanted to give up one of my precious days off where I could be doing something important such as lying comatose in bed.  I asked them lots of questions about this trip, but the answers were vague and confusing.  It went something like this:
Me - "Who is going?"
Students - "Students, parents, maybe teachers."
Me - "What is there?"
Students - "Mountain."
Me - "A real mountain?  Wait, not a hill, but an actual mountain?  What will we do there?"
Students - No clear answer.
Me - "Should I bring food, or will we go to a restaurant?"
Students - "Bring food."

I looked up the town in my guidebook, and this is what Lonely Planet has to say about Pailin.  "The remote Wild West town of Pailin has little to recommend...unless you happen to be an ex-Khmer Rouge commander, in which case it's an ideal place to retire among friends."  But, wait there's more!  There are several waterfalls outside town.  "The problem is that they're at their most impressive during the rainy season, when the roads are often impassable.  Also, they are not comfortable places to explore on foot due to the lingering presence of land mines."  Obviously, this is not the place for a sensible tourist, but when have I ever been sensible?

Facts:  This is located in the most heavily land mined part in all of Cambodia.  There are an estimated 4-6 million land mines in the country.  We also has the highest number of amputees per capita of any country in the world.  On average, 15 Cambodians are injured or killed by each month. 

So, here's the deal.  I was invited to go to a sketchy place, three hours away, with a bunch of students, and an unclear itinerary.  All the other teachers were invited, but strangely, they turned down the offer.  I asked the students if we could swim in the waterfalls, and they said yes.  That sealed the deal for me.  Count me in!

When I asked Monyroth what time we were leaving, she replied, "5...or maybe 6 am."  I said, "No!  If I have to wake up too early and wait for all of you, I will be mad cha!"  I gave her my phone number and told her to call me with the exact time.  She called me the next morning at 6 and said, "Hurry up, cha!"  I told her I was ready.  I asked if the taxi was there, and she said yes.  I didn't rush.  By now, I have learned that when Cambodians say, "Hurry up!" it actually means that it is now time to get ready, not time to go.  So, I finished making my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, sprayed my entire body multiple times with mosquito repellent, and walked to Monyroth's house which is only a few minutes from the school.  When I arrived, there was no taxi, no people, and her front gate was locked.  I called her and told her I was there.  She popped out, wearing a sarong, clearly not ready at all.  Go figure.  I was late, but not late enough. 

A minivan full of students and one grandmother arrived at 6:30, and we began our journey.  There were nine 7th graders, Monyroth's grandma, and three young cousins.  The driver was a friend of Monyroth's family, and he was really nice and friendly.  As the special barang guest, I was given the front seat which I appreciated because I was able to recline it and slept almost the entire way there.  Also, the minivan was not really meant for 15 people, so the kids were kind of squished in the back.

Pailin is a scenic town on that borders Thailand.  In fact, I could see the checkpoint when we stopped to buy some rambutan and durian (which the town is famous for growing).  There are lots of mountains, real mountains!  I can see why this was a good place for the Khmer Rouge stronghold.  First of all, it's right on the border.  Plus, there are many places to hide in the mountains and surrounding forest.

Our first stop was Wat Phnom Yat, a big beautiful pagoda on the top of a hill which features an imposing golden statue of Buddha with his hand raised.  We had to climb about a hundred stairs to reach it.  I walked with Nek Sok Ree, my new grandma (jia, in Khmer) and let her hold my arm.  She is a strong, old woman, but I was worried, and I made the kids stop midway, so she could rest on a bench for a minute.  We looked at all the statues, the panoramic views of town, and took photographs.  Then, we went inside the temple to pray.  We each gave on offering to a female monk.  In turn, she wrapped red string around our wrists (for good luck) and gave us a blessing.  Grandma then placed a bowl of water in front of me, and indicated that she wanted to pour some in my hands.  I assumed this was like the water spraying I have experienced before, so I cupped my hands, and when they were filled with water, I splashed it on my face.  Everybody laughed at me!  Yet again, I had made as ass out of myself.  I am used to this now as it happens pretty much every day.  I watched the others, and they poured the water on the top of their head, and spread it over their hair - perhaps because this is "holy water," and the head is considered the most sacred part of a person's body.

Finally, we headed to the Blue Mountains which is the main reason I went on this trip.  I couldn't wait to see the waterfalls and go swimming.  The weather was perfect; it was a bit overcast, but the sun was shining, and there was fresh air.  Fresh air!  You might think that I get plenty of fresh air in the rice paddies, but that's not true.  It always stinks because everybody burns their plastic trash, and the incredible amount of dust makes it difficult to breathe.  When we got to the mountains and opened the windows, I gulped in that savory air!  Soon, we saw the sign for the waterfalls, and the kids were positively twitching with excitement.  I did my own twitching at the numerous sight of the Land Mine warning signs.

Everyone was hungry, so we had lunch in one of the bamboo and thatch roof bungalows above the falls.  A series of gnarled branches shoved into the dirt at irregular intervals served as a staircase that led to the top.  I shambled up the hill with the ease of an 80 year old woman.  We all settled down on a couple rattan mats, and grandma began pulling out banana leaves filled with rice, meat, and some horrid looking vegetable type dish that she brought especially for me.  I thanked her immensely, but explained that I had brought my own lunch (sandwich, apples, and granola bar), and offered the overcooked vegetables to the kids. 

I stopped eating rice about three weeks ago when I realized that I was becoming extremely protein deficient.  Now, I am eating lots of eggs, beans, nuts, and peanut butter.  The Cambodians are very concerned and keep begging me, "Kerri, eat ri!"  No.  I am sick of "ri."  I want to eat nachos, pizza, and salad.  Of course, that is not an option, so I ate my peanut butter sandwich.

For being such tiny little creatures, they sure can pack away food.  Some were grabbing handfuls of rice and shoving it into their mouths like they hadn't eaten all day.  (This is not true.  Cambodians are constantly eating something.  They eat at least 5-6 times per day.  Every time I turn around, someone is shoving something in their mouth.)  How they remain so skinny is beyond me.  After lunch, I made a point of telling the students to put their trash in a plastic bag I brought just for this purpose.  If I had not been there, they would have just tossed it over the side.  It is going to take decades for the concept of environmentalism to take hold in this country.  But, as long as I'm around, I will continue to be the trash Nazi.

 

After lunch, we prepared for the main event - swimming in the falls.  I pulled out my swimsuit and declared, "O.K. boys, turn around!"  When grandma realized that I was about to disrobe in front of the girls, she quickly grabbed one of the rugs, and the girls held it around me like a changing booth.  Yeah...like they've never seen a naked woman before.  They all take baths in their front yards for goodness sake!  I don't know why protecting my modesty was such a big deal, but whatever.  I quickly changed into my suit, and was ready to go.  One the girls looked at me and exclaimed, "Oh Cha!  Sexy!"  Another one just stared, dumbfounded, and whispered, "I never see in Khmer before."  I knew that I would make quite a scene with my Western swim attire, but there was no way I was going to go swimming fully clothed like some Muslim or polygamist. 

Not surprisingly, I was the only white person at the falls.  I was quite aware of a Cambodian man who was walking around, pretending to take pictures of the scenery, but was really more interested in trying to slyly taking photos of the strange, half-naked barang. 

The kids loved sliding, skidding, lurching, and tumbling down the falls on the slick rock.  When they saw me begin to do the same, they shouted, "No cha!  Dangerous!"  Little do they know that I have participated in much riskier activities than this.  I promptly clambered to the top of the falls, and slid down with tremendous delight - many, many times. 

We all had a wonderful day, and since the minivan driver was a friend of Monyroth's family, he only charged us 10,000 riel which equals $2.50 for the whole day - a huge bargain for this kind of adventure!

Even my new jia enjoyed the water.  She loved posing like a model each time I pointed my camera at her.