The good, the bad, the hilarious

Returning to Tuk Phos from my mini-vacation in Battambang was very bittersweet. The trip itself was exactly what I needed. Deidra, Katie, Tiffany, Tara and I put on our best tourist clothes and hit the town. Battambang (or at least Hotel Banan) will never be the same … but I’m getting ahead of myself. Friday morning, I woke up early to pack and prepare for our trip. Everyone was excited to get out of dodge for the weekend. I breezed through language class and lunch, and was just throwing a few miscellaneous things in my bag when I received some bad news from one of my best friends.

I don’t mean one of my best friends [qualifier: in the Peace Corps], I mean one of my best friends [period]. He had been administratively separated from the Peace Corps. When I read his text message, I sat in shock for a few minutes, then grabbed my things and walked over to his house. If I step back from my own biases, I guess I can see why the administration ruled unfavorably against him. Peace Corps is a job like any other: they told him not to behave a certain way, and he did. At the same time, I wish so very much that he would have had the chance to serve here, because his potential to affect change was so great. That, and I’m going to miss him terribly. He helped me laugh at times when I wanted to cry and, although I’ve only known him for five weeks, this experience cultivated an unparallel closeness between us that makes me feel like I’ve known him for five years.

When I returned to Tuk Phos, my host family asked me what happened to Ed. Gossip travels fast. It was the first time I really had to admit he wasn’t coming back out loud. I didn’t say much, but I must have looked like I was about to cry because they just nodded, put a hand on my shoulder and said, “Knyom nuck Ed die. Knyom yul.” I miss Ed too. I understand. They told me his family cried all weekend when he left, and how he had taught them to save money for their business instead of spending it all. She was visibly shaken by the fact that he wasn’t coming back either. When I road by his house today on my way to language class, I looked up at his balcony half expecting to see him there. It’s hard to imagine life in Tuk Phos without our daily banter.

We have actually lost a total of 4 people so far. One young man was asked not to come a week before departure for medical reasons, another guy left after the first week because he felt he should be doing something else, and a girl left two weeks ago for personal reasons. I was always a little surprised to hear current volunteers talk about loosing people from the first group like loosing members of their family. I didn’t know the other trainees who left all that well, so their departure was less of a shock to me; but after this, I finally understand what those volunteers meant.

Getting away for the weekend was a good way to put my feelings about this on the backburner. I hugged Ed goodbye and boarded my 12:30 van, soon to be surrounded by my favorite partners in crime. A total of seven of us would be in Battambang for the weekend. The five girls decided to pool our money for a room in the most expensive hotel in town, while the guys opted for more modest accommodations. We figured if we were going to travel, we out to do it right. Our guidebook described Hotel Banan as “brining the bling to Battambang.” After reading that, there wasn’t a question in our minds that we should stay there.

The trip there was relatively uneventful. Tiffany, Anthony and I grabbed a bus together in Tuk Phos, picked Tyler up from Boribo on the way, and planned to meet the girls from Kampong Tralack when we got there. We were warned that transportation in Cambodia was a trip. Van and bus schedules are fickle and it is not uncommon to squeeze eight people in a sedan-sized taxi (a feat which I have witnessed myself). No one follows any road rules – if there are any – or comes to anything remotely resembling a complete stop. Oncoming traffic drives on both sides of the highway, making even the most seasoned road-tripper want to grab the “oh-shit handle” in fear on a minute-to-minute basis. Aside from this fact, our ride there was smooth sailing. Oh yes, but a Cambodian man did fall asleep on Anthony’s shoulder. Luckily, I don’t think he drooled.

Friday night we took it easy. We went to a restaurant serving hamburgers, french-fries, milkshakes and banana splits. After gorging ourselves on American food, we met up with a volunteer who lives near Battambang for drinks. We called it quits early because we were all exhausted from traveling. The following morning we got up for yet another American meal at the Sunrise Café. I have never been so happy to have a bacon, egg and cheese bagel or a cinnamon bun in all my life. Deidra, Katie and I parted ways from the others to head to our “adventure site” at the Wat Banan. We must have climbed over 100 steps to the top of a mountain where we found the ruins of an Angkor style temple. As they say, a picture is worth 1,000 words, so I will let my photos speak for the breathtaking site we found at the top. We wandered through the ruins for a while, listening to a few monks chanting afternoon prayers, before heading back down to catch up on recent gossip over some coconut water. When we returned to town, we decided to do a little shopping before dinner. We managed to find a mall-like structure in town where I, even more surprisingly, managed to find 2 shirts, a pair of jeans and a pair of shoes. Retail therapy, much? I was in good company, though; Deidra did about as much damage as I did by the end of the day.

The girls all met back at the hotel to freshen up before dinner. It felt so good to put on a pair of jeans, primp, do our hair, put on makeup and ease into the evening. The five of us went to a place called The Riverside Bar for dinner and drinks. From the outside, the place looked like a total dump, but the top of the stairs revealed a rooftop patio overlooking the river, complete with twinkle lights and palm fans. When we saw the inside, we all began to giggle uncontrollably. Tiffany said it reminded her of being in New Orleans, Deidra said it could have been Hawaii, and I was just happy to see pizza on the menu. The restaurant was obviously geared towards NGO workers and tourists because there was hardly a Khmai face in the whole joint. Tiffany used to work at a bar, so she helped us create our own versions of pina coladas and margaritas to kick the evening off right.

After dinner, we eventually decided to take the party back to our hotel room where we played cards, sang and danced to the most ghetto music we could think of while jumping on the beds. It was a night to remember and I actually can’t remember the last time I laughed quite so hard. After passing out, I distinctly remember waking up at some point during the night feeling cold. The air conditioner (oh yes, our hotel had air conditioning) was set at 18 degrees Celsius the whole time. I thought about wrapping myself up in a blanket, but remembered this was the last time I would feel cold for a while and drifted back into a happy, freezing, snooze. Mm, it’s good to be a tourist.

Sunday we slept in, went to breakfast and lounged around our hotel until noon when we caught our bus back to our respective towns. We all fell asleep the minute we got on the bus, only waking up to say goodbye and plan our next trip together. Next up – the beach. I hope it’s soon. When I got back to Tuk Phos, it was all I could do to stay awake through dinner with my host family and relay my excitement to my parental unit during our weekly phone chat before retiring to my room, dumping my stuff on the floor and crawling into bed. You know it was a good trip when you fall asleep before your head hits the pillow the day after the weekend before.