4 a.m. - Someone's alarm goes off, abruptly waking me from a deep sleep. Suddenly, I'm wide awake. It's a good thing too, because I need all the time I can get to get ready, since I was too exhausted last night to shower like I planned to do.
We finish packing everything up and we're out of the teamhouse by 5:25. I just hope I didn't forget anything.
Sokla, who has been our tuk-tuk driver this whole time here in Cambodia, is faithfully waiting for us outside, right on time as usual. We pile all of our luggage on two tuk-tuks, and wave goodbye to Lucky and Long, who live at the teamhouse and who have been really hospitable and helpful during our stay.
We arrive at the bus station a short ten minutes later. It is a bittersweet departure - we would love to stay, and spend a whole day with the orphans. But our trip is coming to a close, and we need to meet up with our other group in Bangkok.
Allegedly, the bus ride from Phnom Penh to Bangkok is 12 hours. Yeah, we'll see if that really happens.
People use their horns for different reasons here. In the. U.S., we honk to show our anger at someone for cutting us off in traffic, or to let someone who is about to run into you know that you are there. Here, the horn is used a lot more. It isn't uncommon to hear a car horn every ten seconds or so, in Cambodia. They don't do it out of anger, for the most part. Since the vast majority of intersections have no stop signs or stop lights, when a vehicle is about to enter an intersection, they honk. They also honk when they want to let the person in front of them know that they want to pass them. The rule of the road here basically is the bigger the vehicle, the more people will move out of the way to let them cross the intersection or pass them.
The drive to Bangkok consists of an eight hour bus ride to Poi Pet where we have to get off to walk across the Cambodia / Thailand border. We are supposed to be taking another bus from Poi Pet to Bangkok after we cross the border. As soon as we get off the bus in Poi Pet, a man takes our bus tickets away from us and gives each of us a blue sticker, which we put on our shirts. This makes me a little nervous. I could just picture it: we cross the border into Thailand and attempt to board a bus without our tickets.
"You need a ticket to board," the bus driver would say. "You fell for the blue sticker trick, didn't you?"
It takes us over two hours to cross the border, after waiting in all the lines and showing the officials our passports. It is 4:30. I've been "holding it" for several hours now. I need to find a bathroom immediately. All the blue sticker people congregate together until we are led by some man in a uniform to the bus stop. I ask him if I have time to use the bathroom. He nods and points to where it is. Without paying much attention to my surroundings, I dash to the building he'd pointed to. It costs three baht to use this bathroom.
Now, I've seen some pretty disgusting bathrooms during my stay in Asia. But this one was hands down the grossest, dirtiest, smelliest, most disgusting bathroom I've ever used. When I first enter the bathroom, all eight stalls are occupied. So I wait. I am first in line. Out of nowhere though, this Thai lady and her teenage daughter cut right in front of me in line. I wait till she catches my eye and I give her a look.
"I," I begin, pointing at myself, "was here," I gesture around the room, "FIRST." I hold up my first finger, signifying the number one. Even if she doesn't understand English, my harsh and direct tone lets her know not to mess with me. She nods and gets behind me in line. Her daughter stays in front of me though. Yeah, we'll see about that.
A stall opens up. I push past the girl who'd cut in front of me, preparing to fight her if necessary. I probably outweigh her by about forty pounds. She doesn't try to protest.
If there's one thing I've learned in my somewhat recent past, it's to never let people walk all over you. If you let it happen once, it opens up the opportunity for everyone else to do the same. You have to stand up for yourself or people will take advantage of you for the rest of your life.
So, I enter the stall and latch the door. The floor is flooded with a combination of urine and water. The toilet itself is only about five inches high, and it doesn't flush. There is also no toilet paper. There is only a little faucet to my right that I can use clean myself off (ewwww). I am thoroughly disgusted by this point. Oh, here is the best part. I exit the stall, and go over to the sink to wash my hands. There is no hot water. And there is also no soap. Where is some hand sanitizer when you need it??!?
I exit the bathroom and begin to walk briskly in the direction that I think I'm supposed to go. I don't recognize any of this. There are little shops all around me, cars, carts, and trucks whizzing past me, and people everywhere. I walk for several blocks, getting more and more panicked as I go. I don't remember having to walk this far from the bus stop to get to the bathroom. I turn around. Still, nothing looks familiar. I consider turning down one of the smaller streets, but then think the better of it. I know the bus station is on this street. I try to think clearly, but all I can think of is the fact that I am lost in a foreign country, with no knowledge of the language or how to get home. Maybe I should go back to the building where I used the bathroom? My group will be looking for me there, eventually. But I am too proud - I have to find the way on my own.
It's hard to think rationally when you're lost. I began plotting out worst-case scenario strategies. If I can't find my group, or if the bus leaves without me, I will find someone who speaks English who can direct me to a bus that will take me to Bangkok, where I will somehow catch my flight on Tuesday on my own. My luggage isn't with me. I only have 20 U.S. dollars on me. At least I have my passport. As I'm walking back the direction from which I came, I notice a median in the road with a small building and some people. There is also a bus near it. This looks vaguely familiar. My eyes scan for something or someone that I recognize. Suddenly, I see Landon and Abraham - I have found my way back! My hands are shaking, and my heart is beating wildly. I'm filled with relief.
The same man who'd pointed to the bathroom tells us it's time to board our next bus. Only it isn't a bus at all. It is a 15 seater van. If it weren't for all of our luggage, the twelve of us passengers would fit more than comfortably. However, we are squeezed in together tightly, with bags on our laps, by our feet, and on either side of us.
Only a few minutes into the ride, the man in front of my seat decides that everyone in the vehicle wants to listen to his music.
Oh you want to play that game, huh?
I whip out my phone and turn on good ole' LMFAO - Party Rock Anthem. I make sure the volume is as high as it can go. I need to send a message to the man in front of me that not everyone wants to listen to his stupid pop music (not that all pop music is stupid; but this particular song was).
The song ends and we all get quiet to see if he's turned off his music yet. He still hasn't. I don't want to piss off everyone in the van more than they probably already are, so I refrain from playing another song. But Mike has a better idea. He turns on Boston's "More Than a Feeling", and plays it all the way through. When it's finished, he says, "Your turn, up front!" gesturing to the man, but the man by this point has more or less gotten the hint. Rather than playing music, he watches a quiet movie for the rest of the ride to Bangkok. Epic win.
I'm convinced that our driver is a maniac. He is swerving through traffic, passing all the other cars, and at times getting up to speeds of probably 100 mph or more. I don't see any speed limit signs, and we don't get pulled over. So I wonder if this road is just a free-for-all. It's a dangerous one though; we pass a really bad car accident on our way. This doesn't slow down our driver, however.
We finally arrive back at K.T. Guest house at 9:30 - 15 hours after we'd left Phnom Penh this morning.
Some things I can't wait to do when I get back to civilization:
1. Eat a Wendy's cheeseburger
2. Give my baby sister a big hug
3. Wear high heels
4. Take a hot shower
5. Curl my hair
6. Sleep in my own bed
Some things I'm not really looking forward to when I get home:
1. Make-up homework for my Post Production class
2. Going back to work right away
3. Opening my mailbox, which is probably overflowing by now
4. Jet lag
5. Snow / cold weather
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