REASON # 8,381,902 MY MOTHER IS SO GREAT

I just wanted to share quickly another reason my mother is amazing. My first day traveling -- way back on February 2nd -- I found a little purple post-it note in my backpack. Written on it were some inspirational words from my mother. It was cute and not only made me smile, but it made me miss her and I had only just left her side earlier that day. Well, a few days later I found another post it note with more kind words about me and my trip. Then another few days passed and BAM there was another note inside my backpack pocket.

I took the notes and placed them in my journal so I could see them every time I wrote. I also emailed mom and asked her how many notes she had placed in my luggage. She told me that she thought I had found them all already. Well, she lied to me, because I found another one the other day which I've since been keeping in my wallet with me at all times. As I always say, my mother is one of the kindest, sweetest, most thoughtful people on the planet. Love you, Mom!

More signs and overall oddness...

(PICTURE: A few days ago in Siem Reap this sign was on the back of my door. It's funny, albeit really really sad at the same time.)

Last night was one of my more bizarre experiences in Asia. For a week I have heard people talk about the bar girls at a local establishment called Howie's who are all Connect Four prodigies. As many of you know, I too have dabbled in Connect Four from time to time although it has been about thirteen or fourteen years since I dominated Mike Levy's basement. The only time I've played since getting my driver's license is when I smoked Alex 3-1 in college after he claimed to be unbeatable.

Trea, a former Howie's employee, told me that there was no way I could win a game at Howie's. She told me that what the girls there do is play guys for beers. You win, they buy you a beer. You lose, you buy them a beer. They make the majority of their money by earning a $1 for every beer a guy buys them. These girls were hyped as so good that they play 10:1. If you can win one game before they win ten, then you win.

So, last night Ryan and I headed over to Howie's. Virath, a Languagecorps alumni and now friend of the bar, told the bar girls I wanted my shot at them. Lana, a cute 22 year old who has been working the bar/Connect Four scene for three years, obliged and whipped out a Connect Four set. We began to play and after about two minutes Lana screamed out, "You cheat!" Apparently I had won. This girl was so good she was seeing about ten moves ahead. Well, she was right, I did win. However, my instincts told me this was a trap. She was clearly trying to hustle me for beers. That said, I walked right into it.

I told Lana I wanted to play 10:1 and she agreed. We started to play and I swear, Bobby Fischer took over her body. Within ten minutes she was up six games to none. Six to none! I buckled down and focused and with a little luck I somehow won the seventh game. If I said Lana was pissed it would be the understatement of the year. She was furious. She knocked over the board, bought me a Beer Lao and demanded a rematch at 7:1. I agreed but first sipped my beer as I taunted her...and watched her get madder and madder.

The first game of the next series couldn't have gone better...I WON AGAIN! Lana got even madder as she slammed another beer, which literally comes out of her wages, onto the bar. By this time a crowd gathered around us since Lana is considered the best player in the bar and never loses. So we played again...and I won again! Three beers. Lana called me a cheater again and backed away. Other bar girls were amazed and began to challenge me. I took on Annie, Trea's younger sister and one of the other top players, and beat her too! I was on fire. Before I knew it all the girls were on their cell phones texting away. I didn't find out till the next morning that they were writing Trea things like, "I hate you! Why did you send the foreigner to play us?!"and "You're crazy and cost me my night's wages!" I know this seems a little pompous of me to brag about but it was truly amazing on my behalf. Dare I say the greatest sporting night of my life. The thing is, these girls are SOOOO MUCH BETTER THAN ME at the game. I really was getting very lucky. In the end Lana calmed down and stepped back up to challenge me again. This time she completely kicked my ass seven games to none (although there was one draw in the middle and I had some drunk Norwegian girl yelling in my ear the whole time as to what to do until I turned to her and said, "Would you tell Bobby Fischer where to move his castle?"I thought the reference would work since he was living in Iceland, Norway's kind of close neighbor, when he died but I don't think she got it). I bought Lana her beer and gave her a few dollars tip since I really had cost her her night's wages.

If last night wasn't strange enough, today a bunch of people came up to me and said things to me about my performance at the bar. As I was leaving the house this evening to go to dinner the security guard said to me in broken English, "I hear you are quite clever." I'm a legend.

Angkor Wat

( PICTURE: Me climbing one of the temples at Angkor Wat in my favorite Bar Mitzvah t-shirt. Sorry for the sideways picture)

Our mini-bus arrived at the University at 1pm to drive us six hours to Siem Reap, the city located outside of Angkor Wat. By "mini-bus" I mean a Toyota Corolla. We were told that our transportation for the weekend would be a nice comfy bus, this was not the case. Crammed into the backseat were Ryan (5'11ish, @180lbs), Ryan #2 (5'10ish, 170lbs, wide swimmer shoulders) a former Languagcorps Alumni who had never taken the trip up north and myself (6' and 195 pounds of pure all-American muscle). Side by side by side our shoulders wouldn't actually fit into the backseat. We had to angle ourselves slightly in order to physically fit. So, why didn't one of us just sit in the front passenger seat? Well, that seat was taken by our "Guide" Trea. Trea, the Languagcorps rep in Cambodia was accompanying us on the trip and claimed the front seat--all 5', 90lbs of her. I thought she was joking when she took the seat but realized after an hour and a half and two spasms in my surgically repaired left shoulder that indeed this was no joke.

To make matters worse the drive was single handily the scariest transportation experience of my life. As I've mentioned a few times, drivers out here in Southeast Asia are a tad crazy. Well our hired driver was far and away the craziest f-ing driver in all of Cambodia. Not uncommon moves by this psychopath were:
a) Flying through the center of villages at 100 kilometers an hour as schools were being let out.
b) Passing cars, motorbikes, bicycles, etc. on two lane roads as cars zoomed towards us in the passing lane.
c) Treating cows on the road -- not an uncommon occurrence since we saw at least 150 cows crossing the road -- as nothing more than orange cones to swerve between.
d) Not flinching as he nearly ran over other stray animals such as dogs and chickens
e) Brushing up against motorbikes every few minutes
f) Accelerating at any chance he can get only to slam on his brakes at the last moment as he approached pot holes and speed bumps.

After five hours, we miraculously made it to Siem Reap in one piece. Siem Reap is not like Phnom Penh at all. For one, there are exponentially more foreigners there. It's a city based on tourism so every other building is a hotel or a guest house. The main bar street there, aptly named "Bar Street" caters to 90% foreigners...and I think the 10% of locals that hang there are mostly hookers.

Ryan, Ryan and I agreed in the car that we'd wake up early to see sunrise over Angkor Wat. Trea, our "guide", fought us with tooth and nail saying that she needed her sleep. Eventually we won out and she called our guide and told him of our plan. She told us to be ready at 5:30AM for our ride to the ancient temples. A few hours later, after talking to the driver, she corrected herself and told us we actually had to be ready at 4:30AM in order to see the sunrise. Hey, what's an hour difference? That night we went out for a drink or two and some dinner. Around ten Ryan #1 and I decided to pack it in so we'd be fresh in the morning. Trea and Ryan #2 decided they'd stay out for another drink or two.

CUT TO: 4:30AM.

Trea knocks on our door and says that she and Ryan #2 aren't going to see sunrise. It was a late night. They'd meet us later. Oh well, their loss. Ryan #1 and I packed our stuff and went outside to wait for the driver and the guide. After fifteen minutes neither was in site. We started to panic and Ryan went out past the front gate and found the driver waiting. We figured that perhaps only the driver was coming so we hopped in the car and took off. Now if the driver spoke any English the confusion probably would have stopped here...but he didn't.

Ryan and I entered the Angkor Wat park at around 5:10AM. Nobody else was in site. We were pointed by a ticket checker/security in the direction of the temple. We slowly started to make our way in the PITCH BLACK towards where we thought we should go. The only lights were burning incense around Buddhas and a distant light in front of us. Ryan and I fumbled through the darkness until we caught up with the light. It was a couple, or as I've now started to say regarding Ryan and I: "another couple", who were guiding themselves with the light from their cell phone. Long story short, Ryan and I stumbled/fumbled/tripped, etc. through this ancient holy structure having no idea what the hell we were doing. Turns out, the guide had said we'd leave at 5:30 since sunrise wasn't till 6:30ish. However, our wonderful "guide"told us what time the driver would be there. The guide showed up at 5:30AM at the hotel to find himself all alone. Having no guide in Angkor Wat is insane. Imagine being blindfolded and dropped off at the gates of Disney World and being told to find Space Mountain. It was basically the same.

Eventually after an hour of destroying a few priceless carvings and disturbing a group of chanting monks we saw some flashes in the distance. We made our way to the lights and came across hundreds of people, guides to their sides, set up for sunrise photos. We joined the group and snapped away. By the time the sun rose there were about 4,000 people snapping away photos. We overheard a guide say that this was "the best two days of the year" for sunrise because of the lunar calendar and that he had never seen so many tourists up so early. The sunrise though was covered in haze and highly disappointing. The true fun and adventure came with exploring in the dark.

Anyway, our guide, Trea and Ryan #2 eventually met up with us and we spent the whole day at the ruins. Well, the two Ryans and I spent the day at the ruins--Trea spent the day reading magazines in the car because "it was too hot out." The place is absolutely mind boggling. I could really elaborate on it but it would be easier for those who care to just wikipedia it or eventually look at the 150 photos I took.

Ryan #1 and I told Trea that we wanted to see sunset that evening. There is a mountain in the middle of Angkor Wat where crowds gather to see the sunset every evening. The postcard pictures I saw of it made it look spectacular. Trea said that the guide would take us but first we had to see something else outside of the park. We all climbed into the Toyota (FOUR OF US IN THE BACKSEAT NOW SINCE THE GUIDE WAS WITH US!) and drove out of the park. Turns out the site we needed to see which was about a half hour detour was a tourist shop where Trea needed to return some pants for her mother-in-law. Yeah, that's right, we were doing her errands.

We then dropped off Trea and Ryan #2 back at our guest house and were taken back to Angkor Wat for sunset. Ryan and I climbed to the top of the mountain where at least a thousand other tourists were waiting. We find a cool spot, legs dangling off the high temple, and waited for sunset. As we waited we met a cool American brother and sister and began to chat away with them. After about a half hour a policeman came up to us and said, "You must leave." "But what about sunset?" "You must leave." Turns out the sun was behind a wall of cloudy haze and there would be no sunset photos that evening. Bad sunrise, bad sunset. Oh well.

Finally, yesterday we took off to come back to PP. On the way back we stopped at an ancient temple that was quite spectacular. The temple was in the middle of the jungle and still in almost complete ruin with vegetation growing in every crack. In truth, this was a cooler site than Angkor Wat. There were probably a dozen tourists total and it felt almost undiscovered. We played around and explored the site for a little while before Trea told us we had to take off...she had a birthday party to go to in PP and didn't want to be late.

The Jinx Is On

Not more than two minutes after posting that last blog Ryan surfaced for our usual 7:40AM breakfast excursion. However, this morning Ryan looked at me and said, "I think I'm gonna pass on breakfast. I was up all night with some stomach issues." The jinx from the last posting is on. That said, I just got back from breakfast with Vi. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right?...but then again, the food could literally kill me (relax, Mom, I don't think it really can. Doctors Levy and Rudominer, any thoughts?).

Pushing My Luck In Cambodia

This is the stupidest thing I could possibly write but I'm going to write it anyway. In seven weeks of travel I have only taken Imodium once. Yes, once. And that one time was in Australia. So far in Asia, despite eating things which at least 50% of the time are a total mystery to me selected by the eeny-meeny-miny-moe method, I have had zero stomach problems. (My stomach just growled as I typed that...but i will continue).

I'm telling everyone this because it is a borderline miracle I have not gotten sick in Cambodia. On the miracle list, I'd put this right below the one canister of oil that lasted eight nights for the Maccabees. Since arriving in Phnom Penh, Ryan and I have developed a love of Cambodian street food. Now when I say street food, I don't mean some plush NYC style hot dog vendor wheeling and dealing the equivalent of frankfurters, knishes and pretzels. Street food here comes in multiple styles which can be broken down into the three meal pattern we've developed.

BREAKFAST: Ryan and I walk over to this corner "restaurant" where every morning we are happily greeted by the host who constantly speaks to us in French...which we shrug at just as much as we do at Cambodian. This restaurant is by far the highest rated place we go to. Basically it is a bunch of table and chars set up under an alcove with tarps and blankets covering about twenty five percent of the ceiling which extends onto the sidewalk. The food here is cooked on a cart with drinks being poured in an alley. Each morning we join a table of other breakfast goers and our spots are wiped off with a wash cloth that hasn't been cleaned since...well, it's probably never been cleaned. A tea cup of luke warm water is then placed in front of us which is used to disinfect the silverware which is sitting in a communal cup in the middle of the table. The process is quite simple: you take out the silverware, wipe it with a tissue from a tissue box, drop it into the luke warm water, let it sit for a minute, then re-wipe it with a new tissue. Clean as a whistle. I mean what germs could survive that, right? Our food is then brought to us which always contains some kind of marinated pork over rice with green tomatoes, cucumber and an egg (most of the time some dark black egg which I think has been pickled). We quickly devour the food using our spoon and fork like chopsticks. Spoon in the right hand, fork in the left. The fork pushes food onto the spoon and you shovel it into your mouth. This is how the locals do it. While eating it is best to ignore the flies that have taken a breather on your index finger....

LUNCH: Near the school is a side street where about a half dozen "restaurants" have set up. By restaurant I mean that people have set up tents on the sidewalk with folding tables, plastic chairs and little grills. This place would be closed in two seconds in the state for its unsanitary conditions. Literally feet from where we sit are piles of garbage. Underneath the tables are collections of bones and dirty tissues that prior patrons have spit out and thrown down since in Cambodian restaurants -- at least the ones we go to -- they only sweep once a day. At this restaurant the flies buzzing around you are the easy thing to deal with. The hard thing is the constant sensation that something has just run across your foot. Man, I need to stop wearing flip-flops.

DINNER: Every night we go to the Russian Market. It's a collection of food stalls with a variety of different Cambodian entrees -- few of which we can identify. Two nights ago we took the Languagecorps maid Vi (pronounced /wee/ since people can't say v's here) with us out to eat. She has since come to every meal with us since it appears she doesn't eat unless we feed her. Also, on a side note, she doesn't speak a lick of English which is really ironic since she lives in the house where people are trained to teach others to speak English. I literally taught her "cat", "father", "mother", "sister", and "brother" the other night. If you're asking yourself why I taught cat first it's because a dozen cats had gathered outside the house and I was ranting about how much I despise cats. Anyway, we took Vi with us and motioned for her to pick a stall. Big mistake. Seconds later we were sitting in front of what appeared to be a soup stall. However, when the food was promptly plopped in front of us it was just a bunch of noodles with a large chicken foot resting on top. And, uh, it was served cold.

In my head whenever I sit down at one of these restaurants I picture what it would be like if I was with my friends and family. In particular I often find myself thinking of Brett Goldstein and picture him saying, "Are you kidding me? I'm sorry but there's no f-ing way I'm eating here."

Anyway, I could go on for an hour and talk about the other health code violations that I embrace at every meal. However, I will just sum it up with this: There is an Australian couple taking the course with Ryan and I and they refuse to eat street food. They have been sticking to the Western Cuisine and when dipping into the local foods have gone to nice restaurants (by nice I mean $7 a meal). Well, yesterday, Kristen the Australian girl can strolling into class looking like death -- she had gotten food poisoning and had been puking all night. Lesson learned: it may appear dirty and disgusting but it's really like the frog prince. Kiss it and embrace it and you'll be rewarded....

Crap, my stomach just made some noise. I hope it was a growl and not a croaking parasite. Oh well, breakfast is in 46 minutes!

1 + 1 = 3

Happy Anniversary Mom & Dad!!! I was never very good at math (it made me sweat profusely from my armpits even more than usual) but I'm pretty sure that since my Mother (1) married my Father (1) and had Zev, Hannah and me (3) that 1 + 1 =3. This is the kind of math that will be taught in my classroom in just a few months. Good luck to the little Hanoians. 

Love you Mom and Dad!

The Killing Fields

Ryan and I took a trip out to the killing fields late Sunday afternoon. While the past six weeks have been nothing but fun and adventure, this excursion was extremely sobering. For those of you who don't know, nearly two million Cambodians were systematically murdered under the Pol Pot Khmer Rouge regime between 1975 and 1979.  Pol Pot = really really really bad guy. 

The actual site is lacking much to see, at least on the surface. There is The Bone Monument which houses over 8,000 skulls that have been unearthed from the mass graves. However, besides that, there are just holes in the ground with signs that say, "X amount of people buried here." Then there are other signs that say, "This is where the trucks came." "This is where the guards slept" etc. etc. However, the real stomach turner isn't the sign boards or holes in the ground but rather the walking paths that lead the tourists from one sign to the other. It didn't take long to notice that buried under the dirt were human bones. Bones were everywhere. It was literally impossible not to be walking on human remains. This is what will stick with me forever.

Back to more cheery blogs tomorrow...