Pursat

March 5, 2010

I arrive in Pursat in the early evening, a dumpy, highway-side transit town that hopes to build its tourism based on its strategic location to the mountains in the south and lake to the north. I wish it luck.

I have decided to head south into the Cardamom Mountains. My LP has limited information about the area. What I know is that it is the second largest continual primary forest in SE Asia. There are several large environmental NGOs working hard to protect its biodiversity including Conservation International, Flora & Fauna International, and Wildlife Alliance. Conservation International has several ranger station set up where you can stay the night with basic accommodations. There are several small towns in the mountains but none are said to have guesthouses… yet. There is supposed to be a huge potential for eco-tourism in the area. There is also supposed to be undetonated landmines scattered through the mountains (not mentioned in the LP), and my online research in Siem Riep told me to avoid stepping off the roads or main trails.

I am interested in seeing the area and checking out the ranger stations. If I’m lucky maybe I’ll meet someone working for the NGO’s and get to ask some questions (I have so many!) and make some connections. Besides, Siem Riep was too crowded for me; I’m ready to head out on my own again. But I acknowledge that this is one of the more adventurous routes I will have taken.

I find a hotel room for $4 and drop my bags there. I go downstairs to ask the women in the lobby where I can find transport to Promoui tomorrow. Promoui is the first/last main town in the region, from there I will have to find another ride further into the mountains. I ask and wait patiently as the women converse between each other, apparently discussing the answer. Still waiting, I wonder what is taking them so long to decide on what to tell me. I continue to wait. Finally after 2 full minutes I say, “So, where do I go?” They look at me in mild surprise, oh I still want an answer? They start to discuss again. “Excuse me, do you know?” “Market.” is the only answer I finally get. I head out to the nearby market. I don’t see any particular area where pickup trucks or vans are waiting. But I also know that most leave in the morning, right now the market is closing down for the day. I go to one moto-driver and try to convey my question. “Promoui? Where can I go? Shared taxi? Morning?” He nods encouragingly, “Yes!” he says. Oh dear, the enthusiastic yes, he doesn’t understand a word I’m saying. “Thank you” I say and walk away. For some reason I feel extremely frustrated. I’ve quickly forgotten what it means to be off the tourist track. I’ve just spent the last 2 weeks constantly around people that spoke English, whether in Si Phan Don, in the field with the team, Phnom Phen, or Siem Riep. Now I was back on my own, properly on my own with not a single other foreigner in sight and in a town where I shouldn’t expect anyone to speak English. Knowing that I was headed somewhere even more remote, possibly somewhere without guesthouses and without mobile reception, it was scary to already be at a loss of how to find my way tomorrow. I continued to stop in a couple of shops and ask people how to get to Promoui tomorrow. Each time there was someone with minimal English skills, both young and old, who wanted to help. But despite clearly being able to convey the town’s name no one seemed to guess that I was looking for a way to get there. Or maybe the way to get there was just too obvious to them that they wouldn’t assume that such a detail I needed help with.

I was further frustrated because I had hoped that with hand signals asking how to find a ride to a city I could say the name of would be something that didn’t require any English. But as soon as I open my mouth people are intimidated if they don’t speak English and just twist their hand (the western gesture for “so-so” means “I don’t know” here). When I do find someone who knows some English my words are rarely better understood. Cambodians have an interesting talent of parroting back any foreign word you say to them with nearly perfect pronunciation. You could swear when you say “pickup truck” and they reply “pickup truck,” wide-eyed, that you have just conveyed your need. But no, that was the first time they ever heard the words “pickup truck.” I mimed driving a car, I showed my destination on a map, I pointed to actual pickup trucks passing in the road but all to no avail.

I was worried, if my guesthouse couldn’t even answer a simple traveller’s question, then how would these shop owners? On my fifth try I thought I found someone who understood me. He insisted I sit down with him before we began the arduous process of translating my English question into a series of hand signals, pointing, and one word sentences. He understood what I wanted I think. He finally said “I don’t know, maybe try there.” He pointed down the street at what seemed to be the gas station. He suggested that maybe I could find a ride from there. I thanked him for his help and headed to the gas station. As I approached I felt that it wasn’t right. This wasn’t where the shared rides gathered in the morning. I looked around for someone new to ask. I saw a girl selling individual liters of gasoline (they sell them out of reused water and soda bottles, a way to both measure and store the gasoline). She looked exhausted from a long day working in the sun surrounded by the smell of gasoline. As I thought to ask her I realized, there’s no way this girl is going to be able to help me more than the others. I asked my question and she says, “Old market, Phsar Chas.” “Sorry? I need to go to the old market? Where is that?” She pointed and said, “Maybe you take moto, very far.” “What time do they leave for Promoui?” “Maybe 9am? Many taxis to Promoui, all morning.” She wrote the name of the old market in Khmer in my lonely planet so that I could show a moto-driver tomorrow where I needed to go. I thanked her very much and shamed myself for having judged her by her job, she was wonderful and her English was wonderful.

I had a plan for tomorrow. Now I could relax, have dinner, and sleep. Tomorrow would be a new adventure.