Excuse me, Bartender, we're out of crickets.
The night before we left Siem Reap, our tour guide was nice enough to invite all of us to his house for a traditional dinner. His wife and sister-in-law (and likely daughter and mother-in-law) cooked for us, and we all piled into the tiny main room and ate on mats. It was beautiful to see them in their home and how the people there really live. They do not have much, and were a bit embarassed that they didn't have chairs and a table to seat everyone, but we thought it was wonderful. The food was great and we each gave them $5, which I know made a big difference to the family's short term finances. Mom/Auntie - not to worry, you have raised us well. We asked another guide what the tradition was, and thus we brought them a lovely fruit basket as a thank-you for having us. They were very surprised and grateful for this gesture... we told them it was for our own benefit so that we weren't shunned when our moms found out we were invited to dinner and didn't bring food! Of course, the Canadians were the only ones to bring anything. We are repping the country well :)
After touring temples in the blazing heat and loving every moment of it, we set off on a day long bus ride through very rural parts of the country on our way to the capital, Phnom Penh. Authentic may not even be the word to describe the things we saw and ate while en route. First off, it is evident within 30 minutes of being in this country that it is vastly different from neighbouring Thailand. It is far more underdeveloped (I am literally on the slowest internet connection I have ever used. Ever.) and the people here are the most kind, funny, and generous people I have ever met while traveling. Most of them live barely above poverty, yet everyone you pass on the street says hello to you and there is very little in the way of in-your-face bargaining, selling, or leering. The fruit sellers always give you extra fruit and anyone who speaks English, even a little bit, is eager to help you with questions or directions. One of my first "Cambodian life lessons" was crossing the road. There almost no traffic lights here, no road signs, and certainly no cross walks. The streets are crowded with mostly motorbikes and bikes, as well as some cars and trucks. Driving into oncoming traffic is normal if it gets you where you need to go. Thus, as tall white girls standing on the side of a dusty road in a mostly non-tourist area, looking both ways to wait for a clearing in traffic... we got the sense very quickly that if this continued, we would never cross. So, taking a cue from an old local lady, we literally just stepped into the road and walked across as the cars and bikes swirved around us without a trace of hesitation. The key to the raid crossing being successful is DO NOT RUN. If you walk at a sauntering pace, the drivers see you from a mile away and just go around you as if you were a pothole. Running makes you look like a crazy person and confuses everyone. The picture below is taken from our bus, as people are just walking in front and not even looking! This is fairly "light" traffic. Must remind myself not to do this when back at home.
On our ride, we saw almost any and everything you could possibly imagine strapped to the back of motorbikes: doors, baskets, a full matress set (including boxspring!), multiple people. However, what none of us expected to see strapped to one was full grown LIVE pigs. To transport the pigs from the farm to the market, they somehow manage to strap 1 or 2 live, full grown swines to the back of the bike, legs up, in a bamboo mat. See picture. I can't make this up. We felt terribly sorry for the poor pigs, especially since it was quite evident that they were scared and also getting badly sunburnt. Alas, I am trying to observe the culture here without making judgements, but that is sometimes difficult when it comes to the animals! We also stopped at a silk farm where, after watching the silk making process, we ate a boiled silk worm. It was disgusting, with a crunchy outside and milky guts inside. Our tour guide was eating them from a bowl like they were candies. Also on our drive, we saw large amounts of people working at the extremely manual task of planting rice... one grain at a time.
At a local market set up at one of the rest stops, we got to also try out friend tarantulas and giant crickets. This is not a tourist scheme. The locals buy these items as snack food. Literally like the cheap version of beer nuts. We both tried them, but drew the line at eating the beetles as they required a lot of work to rip the shell and wings off. In the pics below I am trying the tarantula (you can taste the little hairs!) and mars is chowing on a cricket (I think I still have cricket head pieces stuck in my back teeth!)
On our way to dinner in the city, we walked through the National Gardens, where the local families gather on the weekends to socialize and have fun. The kids/teens set up speakers anywhere there is space. Then a few "leaders" go to the front and lead the crowds in simple dance moves that everyone follows and repeats. Are there four more uncoordinated looking white people anywhere in the world? I think not. This is the United Nations of sweaty, big tourists trying to go native... 2 Candians, a little British lady, and a Yank. We stopped after 2 dances, but I'd like to think we could have improved given a bit more time and a lot more alcohol.
After touring temples in the blazing heat and loving every moment of it, we set off on a day long bus ride through very rural parts of the country on our way to the capital, Phnom Penh. Authentic may not even be the word to describe the things we saw and ate while en route. First off, it is evident within 30 minutes of being in this country that it is vastly different from neighbouring Thailand. It is far more underdeveloped (I am literally on the slowest internet connection I have ever used. Ever.) and the people here are the most kind, funny, and generous people I have ever met while traveling. Most of them live barely above poverty, yet everyone you pass on the street says hello to you and there is very little in the way of in-your-face bargaining, selling, or leering. The fruit sellers always give you extra fruit and anyone who speaks English, even a little bit, is eager to help you with questions or directions. One of my first "Cambodian life lessons" was crossing the road. There almost no traffic lights here, no road signs, and certainly no cross walks. The streets are crowded with mostly motorbikes and bikes, as well as some cars and trucks. Driving into oncoming traffic is normal if it gets you where you need to go. Thus, as tall white girls standing on the side of a dusty road in a mostly non-tourist area, looking both ways to wait for a clearing in traffic... we got the sense very quickly that if this continued, we would never cross. So, taking a cue from an old local lady, we literally just stepped into the road and walked across as the cars and bikes swirved around us without a trace of hesitation. The key to the raid crossing being successful is DO NOT RUN. If you walk at a sauntering pace, the drivers see you from a mile away and just go around you as if you were a pothole. Running makes you look like a crazy person and confuses everyone. The picture below is taken from our bus, as people are just walking in front and not even looking! This is fairly "light" traffic. Must remind myself not to do this when back at home.
On our ride, we saw almost any and everything you could possibly imagine strapped to the back of motorbikes: doors, baskets, a full matress set (including boxspring!), multiple people. However, what none of us expected to see strapped to one was full grown LIVE pigs. To transport the pigs from the farm to the market, they somehow manage to strap 1 or 2 live, full grown swines to the back of the bike, legs up, in a bamboo mat. See picture. I can't make this up. We felt terribly sorry for the poor pigs, especially since it was quite evident that they were scared and also getting badly sunburnt. Alas, I am trying to observe the culture here without making judgements, but that is sometimes difficult when it comes to the animals! We also stopped at a silk farm where, after watching the silk making process, we ate a boiled silk worm. It was disgusting, with a crunchy outside and milky guts inside. Our tour guide was eating them from a bowl like they were candies. Also on our drive, we saw large amounts of people working at the extremely manual task of planting rice... one grain at a time.
At a local market set up at one of the rest stops, we got to also try out friend tarantulas and giant crickets. This is not a tourist scheme. The locals buy these items as snack food. Literally like the cheap version of beer nuts. We both tried them, but drew the line at eating the beetles as they required a lot of work to rip the shell and wings off. In the pics below I am trying the tarantula (you can taste the little hairs!) and mars is chowing on a cricket (I think I still have cricket head pieces stuck in my back teeth!)
On our way to dinner in the city, we walked through the National Gardens, where the local families gather on the weekends to socialize and have fun. The kids/teens set up speakers anywhere there is space. Then a few "leaders" go to the front and lead the crowds in simple dance moves that everyone follows and repeats. Are there four more uncoordinated looking white people anywhere in the world? I think not. This is the United Nations of sweaty, big tourists trying to go native... 2 Candians, a little British lady, and a Yank. We stopped after 2 dances, but I'd like to think we could have improved given a bit more time and a lot more alcohol.
No matter how poor people are - they still have a TV - amazing! Can't believe "picky eaters" you and Marissa -tried all those critters! Yuck!! Poor pigs - what a culture - here you just don't see them being transported to be killed - does that make it any more humane?? Glad you brought some "gifts" to their house - quite the meal - did they serve beer/wine?? Really makes me want to travel that part of the world. Take care:)
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