The Pinay Solo Backpacker

There are places that I thought only existed in my childhood dreams, until I find myself standing in their midst or in some cases, biking at the heart of their roads. 

“$1 for 1 day”, said the woman vendor with a sun-streaked hair and a wind-and-sun-burned skin. She was wearing a floral long polo and her weary eyes suggest how tired she was before daybreak. I reached out for the old-worn gear painted in pastel. A startling cry rends the day, while I was busy selecting my new companion.

“I want that charming blue bike”, I commanded.

The sky can no longer hold its tears and I thought I heard it whispered – “it rains hardest on the people who deserve the sun”. One, two, three hours have passed and the universe finally conspired to let me wander around the kaleidoscopic city. Getting to Siem Reap from the Philippines is now easy, you can check  and compare cheap tickets online to score a discounted airfare.

I figured the schizophrenic weather deserves some bright cerulean summer dress, so I sported one, hopped on my blue bike and started cycling. There is something about biking in unknown places that makes me feel like I am reclaiming my youth. Like I am young and carefree again,  wandering aimlessly while the fresh air touches my sweaty eye browse and tired face and the world around me, I cannot comprehend, like I just came out of my mother’s womb and in despair, trying to grasp everything  all over again.

I swayed past villages with modest native houses on stilts standing shoulder to shoulder in bountiful tangerine soil. I saw serene pastoral landscapes, mostly rice fields clad by dense jungles and windswept mountains.  I got transported to a bustling enclave fringed by towering edifices and hotels most of them painted in brown, yellow and orange adorned by Khmer symbolism.

I met men mostly in long sleeve polo and good old pants, patiently waiting or calling out for next passengers to their tuktuks or motorbikes. I saw women cycling in archaic large-wheeled bikes packed with some fresh produce.  I heard Cambodian children fluent in English and selling almost everything for $1.

I met Caucasians of all ages wandering the hurried city. I encountered Koreans and Japanese in hordes. The paradisaical city is bursting with touts and tourists, with street foods and artsy cafes, with souvenirs and spas, all at affordable prices.

I came upon a placid river clad by colossal trees, something I have only seen in National Geographic Magazines before.  I find the river stunning as  it invokes a feeling of nostalgia, and loneliness.  I can imagine myself sitting by the banks and reading a book – the rustling of the leaves fill the air, the freshness of the lush surroundings embraces me while I soak my feet in its warm water.  But at that moment, the strong desire to see the iconic Angkor Wat prevailed.

So I continued cycling.

Across a dusty parkway is a crowded long causeway guarded by two lions at the heart of a moat leading to a sandstone covering the façade and full view of the 5 towers of the ancient temple.

I was elated.

Because Angkor Wat is oriented to the west which symbolizes death and the setting sun, scholars believed it to be both a funerary temple for King Suryavarman II and a temple to honor the Hindu deity Vishnu.

It’s amazing how the people of the olden days built such an intricate and monumental structure with a perfect balance despite their “basic” technology at that time. Perhaps it’s the strong faith in their goddesses that led them to exhibit such excellence.

I have seen more than I expected; off-beat temples such as Neak Pean with the entwined serpents, the Preah Kahn and its House of Fire, and Banteay Kdei with its Citadel of Chambers among others.

But if there is a place that I can’t forget that would be Bayon Temple, because this is where a young man with a shaved head clad in a plain ochre robe smiled at me.  ”You can go to our temple today at 6PM, I will be reading the story of the Ramayana (a renowned epic of India),” the monk said timidly. But before I could even accept his invitation, I heard shutter clicks everywhere.  Since time immemorial, monks have always been a favorite subject of photographers and tourists.

Indeed, the rise of tourism can have good and bad effects.  During our recent visit to Tonle Sap, our group (6 people) decided to skip the touristy boat for $10 each, instead we wandered in the stilt houses by the craggy roadside. We were warmly invited by the locals to enter a modest house built on a boat; we paddled around the lake and saw a traditional Khmer wedding on a well-designed boat. We all agreed to give the house owners a little token for their kindness. Surprisingly, from charming smiles, they frowned, and they asked us for more money.

Needless to say, it certainly was a different experience than the customary Tonle Sap boat tour, but I expected a genuine hospitality and an immersion devoid of commercialization. Seeing the locals beg for money in exchange for their “kindness” is saddening.

As cliché as it may sound,  it is the people we meet during our travel that makes the experience  more memorable.  My journey has thought me to be thankful and stay humble; many times I have met locals so poor that they cannot afford a vacation for themselves. I am happy I am able to travel even on a budget to a lovely place like Siem Reap, but I also feel guilty because I hope I can do more than just wander; like make a difference in my own little way.

Traveling touches one’s soul or the soul of others. To travel is to see places that you have never imagined before. To live every moment as if it is eternity.  To encounter cultures, religions and beliefs different from our own. To be rejected by locals, to be welcomed into a stranger’s house. And as my good friend say, “To discover  that something that is ordinary to them is extraordinary to us and something ordinary to us is extraordinary to them”. Traveling leaves a bittersweet feeling of discovering the unknown.

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*This is my entry to  Blogfest Asia 2012  ”Impressions of Siem Reap”.

 

 

 

*********************************************************************************************** About the Blogger : Gael is a Filipina solo adventurer, a dream chaser and a student of life.  Her (mis) adventures are documented in this blog. Follow her on Facebook and Twitter. For advertisement, partnerships and sponsorship, click here. or email me at thepinaysolobackpacker(at)yahoo(dot)com. **********************************************************************************************

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