Hi Dad, Hi Mum.

Yes I'm still alive and stuff. Adventures of me.

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Fish market near Mui Ne, Vietnam.

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A girl and her father, from my balcony in Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

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Candid shot from my apartment balcony in Phnom Penh, Cambodia

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Early morning (7:00am). Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

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A man and his fish.

Inle Lake, Myanmar

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Mt Kyaiktiyo Pagoda aka ‘Goldon Rock’.

The legend states that the Buddha gave a single strand of his hair to a local hermit, Taik Tha. When he became old, Taik Tha took the hair to his King and instructed that his gift be enshrined under a rock shaped like the hermit's head. Luckily, the King was the child of a magical being and a sea dragon, so he dove to the bottom of the ocean to find this rock. He built a boat (which turned to stone and can be seen roughly 300m from the Golden Rock itself) and brought the rock here, where it sits to this day, with nothing but a single hair from the Buddha to hold it in place.

I’d like to tell my story now.

There’s a town village at the base of this mountain called Kinpun. I traveled there by three hours on a bus, and twenty bouncy minutes in the back of a pick up truck.

Kinpun did not impress. I was the only western tourist in the whole village. The cheapest accommodation was twice what I paid anywhere else, for much more dire rooms. No mosquito net, cockroaches, mouse droppings in the bed, no hot water... I felt certain the proprietor was ripping me off but I had no other option. The only restaurant served tiny portions of bland food for three times what I paid in Yangon. A pack of about twenty stray dogs roamed the streets.

I slept with my bag in front of the door.

Normally I’m pretty chipper, and known to be a gentle, relaxed creature. And I will say that my travel experience was overall amazing, breathtaking, and magical, so excuse my account of self pity (but travel is not all pagodas and beaches, all the time).

About a week previously I had received some bad news from home. A childhood friend had died. The afternoon I got to Kinpun I had a message from someone I had been dating back home. They weren’t waiting, they were seeing someone else now.

I was not prepared for the isolation I felt in Kinpun. All of these factors turned me into a pretty miserable and lonely Reb, far away from home. All I wanted to do was get out of Kinpun, so I arranged to wake up at 5am to get the first truck up Mt Kyaiktiyo to see the famous Golden Rock, then come back down and get an 11:30am bus outta there.

Squeezing into the back of the super-sized pick up with about fourteen other people, we made the winding, roller-coaster journey to the top.

Being wet season in Myanmar, and so early in the day, the top of the mountain was incredibly foggy. But for me, this created a very special, eerie atmosphere. It was silent, apart from the padding of stray dogs, monks footsteps and chanting prayers floating through the mist. Women were already sat along the walkway selling fragrant bracelets made from raw sandalwood. It was beautiful.

If there’s anything to heal a troubled mind, it’s the foggy mountaintop of Kyaiktiyo at 7am. I don’t think it’s possible to be in that particular place and time and not feel an overwhelming sense of calm.

They say the view from the top of the mountain into the valley bellow is stunning. But I’m pretty happy with what I got.

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From a viewpoint in Bai Tu Long bay, Vietnam. A short, but steep 30 minute walk up to here. Well worth it.

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Monk looks peacefully at the view.

Monk takes photo of view on smartphone.

In Luang Prabang, Laos.

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I met this family at a train station in Yangon, Myanmar. The mother sits with the baby and sells napkins, snacks and cigarettes. The daughter walks up and down the platform selling bottled water.

I was jokingly asking her how much to buy the baby, as he was so cute and sitting next to what she was selling. After some discussion in Burmese and confused looks, the ticket seller, who spoke more English than her, asked “In your country, can you do this? You can buy someone’s baby?”

Ah Reb, apparently you’re still not funny.

Once she realised I was joking we sat together and discussed the price.

“Ten dollars!”

“What? No way! Too much. Five dollars?”

“No no no, see [points to elderly woman sitting some distance away] - his grandmother. She love him too much.”

I feel like the daughter deserves a special mention here. The water she was selling was easily three times the cost of what you would pay in the shop down the road, but she just flat out refused to budge on the price. I was explaining that this made no sense, as I could walk out of the train station and buy it elsewhere, and she’d just walk away from me. Also she asked for one of my bracelets, and I said we could trade. She could have one of mine if I could have one of hers. She said no, she just wanted one of mine. I told her sorry, no deal (I am half Dutch after all, right?). Her English was great and she could get pretty sassy. She was awesome.

A true hussler, but terrible business sense. I hope she goes far.

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This is my friend Anh Tu! He runs a small tour company in Viet Nam. We spent the whole day exploring on the motorbike. Absolutely look him up if you need a ride over the Hai Van Pass!

https://www.facebook.com/haivanadventure/?pnref=lhc

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Hey guys, this is my friend Chamrun, he's eating a lotus flower because we got up at 4am to hike to a temple & he was hungry as. This is in Takeo province, about an hour south of Phnom Penh in Cambodia. Chamrun lives at Wat Opot, which is a children's home for kids living with, or otherwise affected by HIV.

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This is a test. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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On Tuesday night my friend Josh and I went to Pyong Yang Traditional Restaurant, which is a chain of Korean restaurants entirely owned and operated by the North Korean government.

It was just as creepy as it sounds.

There are an endless amount of rumors about these restaurants. That the staff have to send almost all of their income back to the government. That the waitresses are not allowed to leave the property for their entire stay in the country. That they try to talk South Korean diners into joining the D.P.R Korea’s regime. That there is a strict ‘No Photos’ policy enforced by the wait staff.

But I had also heard there was karaoke and performances during dinner. Kimchi and a show, if you will.

We arrived at 6.00pm and there was a flock of women waiting at the door in these extravagant glittery gowns. There were ‘no photo’ signs on the walls. Drapes hung tactfully in front of every window. We were seated right in front of the stage, and we could see drums, electric guitars and amps off to the side.

From the beginning the service was attentive to say the least. We were poured a kind of weak cold tea in place of water and given menus. While we were looking at the menu we had about four waitresses lingering around us. As soon as your glass was half empty, it was refilled. We ordered food and drinks and the number of wait staff at our table slowly dwindled to one as other diners began to arrive.

She asked where we were from. She said she had been in Cambodia for one year. She hovered. It was getting awkward. Josh and I resumed our conversation.

“I’m sorry!” She said.

We looked up at her. The next part is what I thought she said (but I may have misheard).

“Are you American?”

My heart stopped. Does she not believe we’re New Zealanders? Does she think we’re American spies? I don’t have my passport here to prove my ethnicity! What will they do to us? But more importantly, will I get to eat first?

“Uh, no, New Zealand.”

“Oh. Are you married?”

(which may have been what she said first, but my paranoia was getting the best of me). Her and another waitress were shocked both by our age (still not sure why) and the fact that we were not a couple.

The food came out very quickly. I had ordered the Cold Noodle as I heard it was their specialty, as well as a plate of vegetables. Josh had dumpling soup, and we had kimchi to share. The wait staff hovered some more, and then left to attend to other customers. Looking around furtively I took a couple of photos of the food. The meal was good, but I was eager for the show to start.

The main lights dimmed. Laser lights flicked over the stage. The backing track started.

What happened for the next hour was entertaining and simultaneously very spooky. The waitresses changed costume/outfit for each performance, one sparkling ensemble after the other. They sang, danced, played drums, violin, guitar, they tap danced… They gave bouquets to members of the audience. They were talented and perfectly synchronized. The diners were loving it.

Pleasant, entertaining, but it felt like there was a very disturbing undertone beneath the delicate smiles plastered on the faces of these women… The whole thing felt like a serial killer wearing the face torn off of one of its victims.

I do want to note here that I feel like a lot of this probably comes from my own, ignorant, preconceived ideas about North Korea. But something about smiles that don’t reach the eyes had me spooked.

After the show we settled our bill. I asked the waitresses if I could have a photo of their dresses, expecting to be given a firm speech about the ‘no photo’ policy. To my surprise they agreed, and I had my picture taken with them [for some reason that particular image will not upload].

Overall, I enjoyed the experience. Yes, there is a lot of truth to what we hear about North Korea (and there is a lot we do not hear, which is worse). But I don’t think we appreciate enough that as a country they still have culture, food, music and dance that is unique and special. Not all Germans were Nazi’s, and not all people from North Korea are evil. Watching the waitresses interact reminded me of pretty much every group of young Asian or South Asian women I’ve ever taught. They giggle, scold each other and giggle some more.

 We need to remember they are not products of their government, but victims of it.

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The Cambodian School of Prosthetics and Orthotics (CSPO), in association with Exceed Worldwide is located on a long dusty road near the outskirts of Phnom Penh. Rather than a sign, they have a figure made from artificial limbs and orthotic braces in front of the gate by the road. The site itself is made up of several buildings. The main building houses the offices, student workshop rooms (where the students practice making prosthetics and orthotics from scratch) and the clinic. The clinic is where Exceed sees patients and the CSPO students have their clinical placements in their third year of study. There are two student dorms, two classrooms, and one computer lab. A few tired gardens that get watered twice a day struggle, but succeed, to flourish under the harsh sunlight. [Now there’s a metaphor for Cambodia if I ever saw one...]

 You can read more in depth about Exceed Worldwide and CSPO on their websites*, but here is a condensed version: Cambodia has an estimated 40,000 land mine victims and 50,000 people affected by polio. Exceed Worldwide (formerly The Cambodia Trust) provides prosthetics and orthotics for these people and in 1994 established the Cambodian School of Prosthetics and Orthotics to give training to students from developing countries and the poorer provinces in Cambodia. After three years of full time study the student will become a certified ‘P/O’ (Prosthetic / Orthotic Technician), ready to take their new skills home to help people in their area.

 Where do I come in? As the students come from an array of countries, (Cambodia, Nepal, East Timor and North Korea to name a few) all of the course content is taught exclusively in English. For a few of the students coming from countries where English is not taught in school, learning subjects such as physics and biomechanics in a second language can obviously be quite challenging. I’m here teaching English for two students who are struggling to keep up with the course work due to lack of language skills. One of the women from administration (who is also my tuk-tuk driver’s wife) has also joined the class.

 Teaching for CSPO in Cambodia is an exciting, and sometimes bewildering experience; on the first day of class I found a patient with a spinal cord injury asleep on the floor in the classroom (the second classroom I tried to use had a student asleep on the floor also). It is not uncommon to see a colleague walking around with an extra limb tucked under one arm, and not to mention the pile of discarded prosthetics and braces in the tea room. The tea room itself is in the clinics plastering room, so you may walk in on a patient having a cast done while you get your morning cuppa.

 The heat is stifling. It reaches 37-40 degrees during the day and 28-30 degrees overnight; I’ve never appreciated air-conditioning so much. The students are eager to learn and motivated, they are very appreciative of being able to practice their English with a native speaker. Many Cambodians learn English in primary and high school but tend to speak a sort of ‘Khmenglish’ - a mix of Khmer and English – meaning almost everyone is making the same errors but not realizing that they are, in fact, errors (even going so far as to see them printed on billboards, menus, and signs all over the city). However, the students are a pleasure to teach and the lecturers and P/O’s have made me feel very welcome.

 I’m really grateful for the opportunity to come and experience life here in Phnom Penh. The work that Exceed and CSPO do for their communities is inspiring, and I am proud to be a part of their team even if it is just for a short time.

 *http://cspo.org.kh/   &   http://www.exceed-worldwide.org/

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Another picture-less post. The bandwidth at the moment isn’t even enough to handle uploading pictures taken on my cellphone.

Yesterday was my first day teaching at CSPO, and it went something like this.

5:30AM: Wake up, get ready for work. Pre arranged tuk-tuk pick up is at 6:30.

6:30AM: This is where I would put a picture of my morning commute, but I can’t so it’s something like this...

People always talk about the traffic in Asia, and the lack of road rules, and the lunacy, and the crowds. But I always thought it would be like a river, you know? Everyone would just flow, moving gently and surely around obstacles...

No. Not like a river at all. Unless it’s the kind of river that flows in two, three, or four directions all at once. The kind of river where bits of river cut each other off, or scream towards each other on the wrong side of the road. Then yeah, it’s that kind of river.

7:10AM: Arrive at CSPO in one piece.

7:50AM: The Director of CSPO, and lovely human that arranged for me stay is taking me to Classroom A, where I’ll be teaching. We open the door and there is a spinal cord injury patient asleep on a mattress on the floor. Sisary laughs and apologizes and the door handle falls off into her hand when she tries to close the door. So, I’ll be teaching in Classroom B. We go there, Sisary opens the door and there’s a student asleep on the floor. So I’m teaching in the Computer labs.

7:59AM (Class starts at 8:00AM): I’m informed that the two Cambodians who live in the next province over didn’t get picked up the day before, and the Korean has gone M.I.A after a weekend in Siem Reap. The van is on the way to collect the students and the school will continue to call the missing student. Class will now be starting at 1:00PM

1:00PM: Head to classroom. The two students who are contactable will be another half an hour. If no one can get hold of the other student by tomorrow they will contact the D.P.R Korea embassy.

1:20PM: Class begins!

So for my first class I had two young Cambodian girls. They’re great. So. Much. Giggling. We wrapped up at 4:00PM, I survived the journey home, and had a cold, cold beer.

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17/4/16 - Khmer Cooking Class with La table khmere

(I have some better pictures on my camera, but you know the story...)

This afternoon I went for a khmer cooking class at a restaurant called La table khmere. Because of the New Year I was the only one booked so had the class (and the chef) all to myself.

I’ve decided I’ll probably never make it as a cook in Cambodia for two reasons; first because you have to cut everything up really really really small, which I’ve got no patience for (it’s called rustic, right Paki?) and second because I asked her if I could make mine without the fish sauce, shrimp paste or chicken powder.. Yeah I’m that guy. Luckily for me she was super cool about it and happy to substitute bits out. What a legend!

For the entree we made Green Mango Salad, for the main we had Tofu A-Mok and then we had a Coconut Banana pudding (which has a real name but I’ve forgotten it).

Guess who got to sit down and eat all three courses? Me. Oh yeah.

My favourite was probably the mango salad just because it was so quick and easy to make, and full of delicious flavor-flaves.

If you’re in Phnom Penh with a free afternoon and $19 burning a hole in your pocket I’d highly recommend taking this class.

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17/4/16

Hi!

So I’ve established that the wi-fi where I’m staying sometimes can’t handle uploading the bigger pictures that I’ve taken on my DSLR to this site. Which is a pain in the butt, because those are the pictures I want to put on here. There doesn’t seem to be a problem uploading them to Facebook, but I guess they get compressed and are smaller for FB... And don’t get me started on how long it took to upload them to my cloud...

Anyway, here’s just a few snaps from my cellphone, some of the local food and beer. They sell brands like Heineken too but it’s twice the price and still rubbish. I’ve spent the last couple of days just sort of chilling out and resting. I start teaching tomorrow so I’ve been getting organized for that too.

I’ve signed up for a Khmer cooking class this afternoon, I’ll take my camera along so I can take a bunch of photos that I’ll upload someday, somehow.

Arohanui x