"I think she is a he..."

Roy and I are sweating our asses off wearing long pants and long shirts to be able to get into the Royal Palace. There are certain things here that are "guidelines" rather than rules set in stone. For example, one-way roads. The motos are the worst offenders, basically they just go as it suits them and just dodge each other. My favorite is the left turn. 1) Turn into oncoming traffic. 2) Avoid oncoming traffic. 3) Attempt to merge into a proper traffic lane. 4) Disregard #3 if on a one-lane road. 5) Attempt to overtake whenever possible. 6) Try not to hit anything. Dress-codes, however, would be strictly enforced. Without the proper garb, no entry. Shoes must be taken off at the temple entrance. We turned into what we thought was the palace, but turned out to be a be Wat Onalom (wat = temple). Walking the temple grounds was stunning, we chatted with the monks who lived there and built the place by hand, and thought how amazing it would be to live in a place like that. Just before leaving, Roy picked up a few flowers from the tree which smelled incredible to use to try and woo the girls back at the guesthouse.

Eventually after running our time down at the Way, we headed back for some beer prior to the Mekong river boat cruise. Piling into Tuk Tuk, I was in one with Roy, and Richard. We would also make friends up there with Mel, Srymom, and a few others. There was a moment on the cruise when I was sitting on top just enjoying myself, watching the sunset, feeling the warm breeze over my skin, drinking the local Ankor draft, and thinking to myself this is what a vacation is supposed to me. This especially because I know that back home it's cold, maybe with some snow, and cloudy - pretty much the polar opposite. There were a few striking things, however. For example, the poor Vietnamese families living on the boat houses casting nets into the river to catch fish to sell at market. To see how they lived certainly puts things into perspective when the problems I would face in day-to-day life are nothing in comparison. And yet, they are happy people or appear to be. Would be curious to have a conversation with translator.

On returning to shore, a group of us decided to head out to one of the clubs. From the guesthouse, we would pile into a tuk-tuk and head out. After getting frisked at the door for weapons, we walk into a different world. There, sleezy old dirty bastards paying for the company of teenage or young 20s Cambodian girls (or boys). There were some people there for dancing, and yet others to patronize the young prostitutes. Apparently the going rate is $15-30 per night. Any surprise often cited projected HIV rates among this population is up to 40%? There was also a fairly big gay contingent. While I was dancing with Srymom, this one young gay Cambodian asked me to come with him somewhere else, the kid wouldn't leave me alone! After following me into the bathroom, I was about ready to twist his wrist the next time his hand touched me anywhere. Then on the dance floor, we wondered about some of the pretty "girls" who were actually some of the better dancers out there and dressed as good as the best out there. For better or for worse, it is part of the Cambodian experience and something to see for one's own eye. Notable mention to Paulie (like from Rocky) who likes to sleep in his tuk tuk. I crashed that night at the Volkammen guesthouse and took a moto ride back to the guesthouse I paid for at around 615am. There the sunrise once again put a smile on my face. It's cold and snowy back home, and here I am...