Caolionn O'Connell

Educated Guess

Our group was trying to decide which Cambodian was more well-known in the United States:

Pol Pot or Maddox Jolie (Angelina Jolie's son).

We decided Maddox was probably more well-known.  We clearly don't have too much faith in the American education system and way too much faith in the power of pop culture.

FYI: Angelina is quite the popular lady in these parts.  And, honestly, deservedly so.  Between the work she has done for mine clearing and building school in rural areas, she can almost be forgiven for splitting up Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston.

Heartbreak

Provided they are not screaming in a restaurant or running around and getting in the way, I think we can all agree kids are generally cute.  Even as an aunt, I am a total push-over to the whims of my 4-year-old nephew.  Give me the puppy-dogs eyes and I am down for the count.  Now place yourself in a foreign country (say, Cambodia), which is considerably poorer than your home country (say, America), add lots of kids begging or selling wares everywhere and all you get is heartbreak.

The sales techniques employed by some of the more creative young sellers (we're talking ages 6-10) are sometimes too cute to resist.  Some examples:

Scene 1

Kid: Where you from?

Tourist: America.

Kid: America, I know your capitol, Washington D.C.  What state you from?

Tourist: California.

Kid: California.  I know your state capitol.  Sacramento.  Okay, now you buy from me?

Scene 2:

Kid: You want a scarf?

Tourist (male): I don't need one.

Kid: Okay, you buy two.

...  See nothing but heartbreak, 'cause how many scarves can you really buy?

Here is the dilemma.  Give money or buy wares and perpetuate young children being pulled out of school to provide for their family or say no and feel like a horrible human being.  A bit of a lose-lose situation going on.  Before I left for my trip, someone recommended I bring toys, fun pencils and the like to give to the kids instead of money, which is more likely to be taken from them by an adult.  The idea being you give a little something that brings happiness, but it doesn't encourage the cycle.  I came equipped with toy cars and pencils with extra erasers and, on more than one occasion, a child has done a jig upon receiving a pencil - literally, they have danced in the street because of a pencil.  Who knew pencils could produce such a response?

So if you are coming this way, consider the heartbreakers.  Bring pencils, small toys, or even balloons.  Some of the long-term backpackers blow them up and make animals or crowns, since the balloons are so lightweight to tote around.  I don't have balloon talent, but if you went to clown school, bring 'em and you might even get a jig.  Just a little first-rate advice I thought I would pass along.

The Rub Down

Massages are popular in Thailand. Traditional Thai massages can be had in hotels, on street corners and, strangely enough, even in temples.  In Cambodia, massages are also popular, but it is a whole new game with even stranger locations. 

Our group's first dinner in Cambodia started off normal enough (I am now traveling with a group of eight friends, Nameless has returned home for "work" - thankfully, a word that doesn't exist for me for another two weeks).  The dinner had a little chicken, a little beef stuffed with fat and some beer, all very good.  After we finished dessert, one of the waitresses came over and started massaging one of the guys in our group, who then proceeded to turn bright red.  This massage was not requested and judging by his uncomfortable face, it wasn't really wanted either.  After the rest of us began giggling over the awkwardness of the situation, we all started getting our own after-dinner massage by one of the wait staff.  Just take a moment to think how you would react should your waiter come over after dinner and start rubbing your back.  Yeah, now you're staring to get the strangeness of the situation.  We finally managed to get out of the situation by singing songs, by request, I might add.  That's right, we started singing songs in a restaurant ... with other people present.  I think it is important to mention that when I start singing, dogs howl in pain.  In return, they sang us some songs.  After a few rounds of song, we finally managed to flee.  Quite frankly, it was one of the stranger dinners I've had.

There was also a massage incident that took place in a bathroom.  But I think that story should remain untold and, luckily, it is not my story to tell.  So far, Cambodia is different, very different.

Comin' to Cambodia

My next stop is Cambodia.  Ever since I studied the temples of Angkor Wat in school, I have been looking forward to the day I would actually see them person.  I have been prepping for my trip by reading a generic "South East Asia" tour book.  My excitement started to cool a little when I read the warnings about purse snatchings in Phnom Penh, unexploded land mines and how domestic travel has yet to pass international standards. 

As if twin-prop planes weren't nerve-racking enough, now I am really looking forward to my flight from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap.  Just to really let it sink in - my book helpfully informs me that although Cambodia has been politically stable of late - as recently as 1999, airline passengers faced armed robbers.  My fear of flying has always been mechanically based, but, lucky me, I now get to include this additional dimension of fear.  The whole taking off my shoes for the X-ray machine is beginning to look a lot less annoying.  All I got to say is that those temples better be frickin' amazing.

Good news: Internet cafes are alive and well in Cambodia, so posting shouldn't be a problem.

Mania

I'm not sure if I should be proud or ashamed, but my name is Caolionn and I am a Harry Potter fan.  Not only do I own all of the books (hardback, of course), but I also own all the books on tape (highly recommended, by the way).  I have lost count on how many times I have read them.  Also ... I have theories.  That's right, I have spent time and brain power analyzing the smallest details from each volume to anticipate what will happen next.

My low point came when I started planning my vacation.  I wanted to delay my trip until the book came out.  Yes, I wanted to go the store at midnight.  Yes, I was even thinking about knitting a gold and maroon scarf for the occasion.  Sadly, not everyone was on board for that one.  I also got a couple, "What are you?! Nuts?!" responses.

Imagine my excitement to find Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince on sale in Bangkok, in English and even cheaper than in the States.  Now I must read and formulate more theories.  PLEASE, don't mention any spoilers until after I am done.

Like I said, my name is Caolionn and I am a Harry Potter fan.

Going Bananas

So there is a saying about Thai people.  Basically, they refuse to walk more than 50 m for good food.  Consequently, there is a food stall on approximately every block and the food is not only good, it's damn good.  As a tourist, it is my duty to fully sample all the food that Thailand has offer and I have been valiantly fulfilling my duty.

I have decided that the Thais do bananas best.  I am generally not a fan of bananas in the States.  They often wallow into brown mush whenever I buy them in hopes I will live a lifestyle filled with fruit.  But here I can't seem to stop eating them.  My favorite is the deep fried bananas with what appear to be sesame seeds.  Crunchy, oily and all around wickedly delicious.  They also offer them barbequed.  A bit like a bananas foster in the States but without the alcohol and ice cream.  I have newly discovered their banana chips.  Not dried bananas, since no matter the country I will always find those disgusting, but thinly-sliced bananas, cooked until crispy and then coated in sugar. 

The hard part about falling in love with the local food is knowing that you will eventually leave it, that you will never be able to capture the same taste if you try to buy it back home or re-create it in the kitchen.  I wonder how much I can stuff in my backpack?

On a side note:  I find it shocking that you can eat an amazing meal here for $1.50 (USD) - by the way, that $1.50 fed TWO people, not just one.

Cruel

I think it is most unfortunate to have a cold in a country where it is considered rude to blow your nose in public.  Not wanting to add to any stereotype that assumes Americans are oafish, I am having to dash into back alleys every few blocks to do the dirty deed of blowing my nose. 

Tonight I leave for Thailand, where, thankfully, blowing one's nose isn't considered bad etiquette (at least I hope not). 

Fabulous World of Toilets

All these years I thought a toilet was just a toilet.  Silly me.  In Japan, I have discovered a toilet can be so much more.  Even squat toilets, the most basic toilet, can have extra bells and whistles.  My favorite was at one shrine, when you squat, a machine automatically makes a background tinkling noise.  This made the whole experience seem so much more pleasant, dare I say, even some what elegant.

The western toilets I've had in my hotel rooms have actually been a little scary.  Lots of knobs and dials with words like "front", "back", "bidet", and "shower".  Shower?  On a toilet?  What does that mean?  I have this fear that I might accidently hit one of the buttons and find out the hard way.

The toilet in my Kyoto hotel automatically runs water when you sit on it.  After deciphering the signs, it seems this is done to warm up the shower function, in case it is needed. I didn't know this my first time sitting on it and thought I had accidently hit the dreaded shower button.  Never before has a toilet led me panic.  Let's just say, I now approach all toilets here very gingerly.

I see white people

I have arrived in Tokyo and I am in sensory overload.

I met up with my friend, who shall remain Nameless, at the airport.  Upon arriving I went to baggage claim to pick up that accessory so often associated with the recently graduated student traveling abroad - the backpack.  I figured it would be necessary, since I assumed Laos and Cambodia would not be roller-bag-friendly countries, just a guess.  When Nameless saw me and my backpack, he said, "Wow, you look really white."  Needless to say, Nameless is not white.  He likes to go by AZN, but often they don't have that box readily available on forms.  Well, around these parts, there is no avoiding looking white.  And I have had great amusement watching others walk up to him and speak Japanese and him just looking confused. 　Ａlthough AZN, he does not speak Japanese.

Surprisingly, there seems to be quite a few Asian women here that are blonder than me.  In Shibuya, the Malibu Barbie look seems to be en vogue.  This requires long blonde hair, deep tans and really impressive eye shadow.  Even better, their boyfriends don't look like Ken, instead they also look like Barbie, but with moderately shorter hair.

Since Nameless isn't helping with the Japanese, we have been getting lost quite a bit.  Part of this is due to maps posted with north pointing down.  Who does this?  Japanese people, that's who.  Nameless prefers to call this getting lost, "wandering."  He finally changed his tune after I started getting pissy from being hungry.  Then we would look for white people and follow them to find our tourist destination - Tsukiji, the fish market.  My new favorite breakfast: raw tuna and beer.  Yummy! 

What Happened?

I used to be one of those people. I was that girl in class who had three different-colored pens and a highlighter – and I used all of them while taking notes. When I went on trips, I was packed and ready a week early. Doing things half-assed or last minute just wasn't my style.

Those days are no longer. I am a mess and, quite frankly, it is a miracle I am able to function on a day to day basis. My preparation for my trip to Asia (which starts this Saturday) has been lack-luster, at best. It seems you need 5 business days to get a visa from Vietnam. This lesson was learned with 2 business days left. So it looks like Vietnam has been removed from my itinerary. Then there are the vaccinations. I missed the deadline for Hepatitis A vaccination. My doctor was none too pleased and, consequently, I got a long lecture about properly washing my hands when traveling. Lucky me, I did make the deadline for a tetanus shot, now it just feels like someone punched my shoulder really hard.

Despite the set-backs, I think I have compensated well for my new and less-improved self during this last week. I have flights between Thailand, Laos and Cambodia. I remembered to find a voltage converter and get passport photos for the other visas, which unlike Vietnam, you can get at the airport. I even made hotel reservations. Maybe there is still some of that girl still left in me.

It also looks like I will be carrying more weight in books than anything else, but, then again, I have always sucked at practical packing. Give me credit, I am only bringing one pair of heels. If that doesn't say self control, I don't know what does.

Hometown Pride

Based on a previous entry, a reader expressed some concern that I wasn't giving L.A. a chance (ahem, cvj). I will grant that I tend to bitch more than I praise, but I would like to take this opportunity to give a little shout-out to my hometown of L.A. It was the first city I loved and it will always be my strongest. No matter the traffic, regardless of the thick layer of haze and in spite of its urban sprawl, L.A. is the city of my youth and will always be "home."

First, there is the Hollywood Bowl. Grab a picnic basket and make your way to enjoy music under the stars. To stay warm, snuggle with your date under a blanket during the symphony or dance on the bleachers during the Brazilian festival. If the Bowl doesn't appeal, I can always hear Jon Brion play at Largo on Friday nights, never a disappointing evening. The modern art collection at the Los Angeles Country Museum of Art is one of the finest collections I've seen and, believe me, I've looked (caveat: my style preference is more oil and canvas than installation, so interpret my statement accordingly). Here we have not one NPR station, but two – KCRW and KPCC – so eat your heart out. Sadly, the city is more mosaic than tapestry, but I love driving through parts of the city where one block has all the signs written in Spanish and the next block it's Korean. We've got food. All kinds from Thai to Mexican or Ethiopian to California fusion. When it was open, I loved the Griffith Observatory at night, trying to determine the location of different streets based on the concentration of lights. And I love that L.A. is a city filled with hopefuls. Everyone knows they have the next best script and everyone knows that they would make the perfect actor or model. No matter how self-delusional, so many believe that given the opportunity they can really shine. Who wouldn't want to live in a city filled with such hope?

In the words of cvj, "Oh ... It's time for my medication and nap now? Ok."

Sage Advice

The next time you find yourself along the Mayan Riviera or in the Yucatan, I have a couple words of advice.

* Pass on Chichen Itza and instead visit Uxmal (OOSH-mahl). It has about a third the number of tourists as Chichen Itza but is easily a much more beautiful ruin. Chichen Itza is really only worth it if you are looking to climb the death-defying stairs to the top of the pyramid. You know, there's a reason why an ambulance is parked at the bottom of the pyramid.

* It is always a good idea to keep an eye on the tourists with the really tricked-out cameras. Sometimes they find the coolest shots that you would have missed just wandering about on your own (see image on right). Why be creative when you can steal someone else's ideas? On a side note: I am pleased to announce there exists a non-domesticated animal that is more afraid of me than I am of it. Ladies and gentlemen, meet the iguana. Sure it looks like a prehistoric lizard which can eat you alive, but it runs for the hills if you walk the slightest bit in its direction. I like iguanas.

* They have these underground caves filled with water, called cenotes, all throughout this region. The caves are filled with stalactites (from the top) and stalagmites (from the bottom) and you can swim in between the two. There are tours to either snorkel or scuba dive inside the cenotes and, quite frankly, it is really f**king amazing. Rent the movie Goonies to get an idea. I would also recommend the Hidden Worlds outfit to provide the tour, because when your boyfriend locks the car keys inside the car right before they close, the owner, Buddy, offers you beer and nachos while you wait for the Hertz guy to come and help break into your car. Buddy rocks.

* Alright, frozen margaritas are, in fact, a bad idea, but Imodium A.D. is the best drug ever invented for the tourist in Mexico. I'd like to take this moment to express my undying gratitude to its inventor.