Day Six: Misunderstandings and Miscommunications.

Today is the long awaited day in which we get to meet with the orphans; or the girls who have been rescued from the sex trade. We leave Landon, Mike, and Abraham behind. We're told that the girls will open up more if there are no boys there. We tour the girls' house, then sit down in their common room. They are having bible study. We read Psalms 25, then all the girls take turns bearing their testimony. I can't believe how strong these girls are. They have so much hope. So much love. They've all been through so much, and overcome so much. I am amazed by their strength.

Where we're sitting at the girls' house is COVERED in ants. Little tiny baby ones. They are all over my chair. Soon, they are all over ME. But I can't do or say anything because everyone else sitting in that room probably has just as many ants all over them. Be strong, Jessica.

Our plan is to interview the girls and find out their stories. Simple enough, right? We had been assured before we ever left the U.S that this would be possible. We turn the conversation to the subject of the documentary. We ask Holly, the girls' house leader, if we can ask the girls some questions about their past. She nixes that idea immediately. She also tells us no pictures and no video, to protect the girls. It's as if they think we're exploiting them or something. The thing is, she told us last night that it would be fine to film them, to talk to them, and to ask them questions. Now we're finding out that we're not allowed to interview ANY of the girls. Why are we even here?!!?! After I think about it for a while, I realize that Holly tricked us, or lured us into coming over by promising us an interview. Then once she had us there, they bore their testimonies and shared with us their Christian beliefs, then encouraged us to share as well. They were trying to help us "find Jesus". Tricky bastards.

Today is the hottest day of the trip so far: 93° F and 74% humidity. We are all drenched in sweat. I don't think there is a square inch of my body that does not have at least some sweat on it. There are also mosquitoes everywhere. I haven't quite been eaten alive yet, but in spite of my best efforts to prevent mosquito bites, they still happen.

We thank Holly and the girls, and exit the premises. We need to go pow-wow with the guys. There is silence for the first 30 seconds of our walk. We're all waiting to be out of earshot of Holly's place. The moment we are, the three of us start ranting at once.

"--Why are we even here?!?--"

"--I'm going to KILL Judah--"

"--Is it too late to change the subject of our documentary?--"

"--They PROMISED us that we could interview the girls!--"

"--So, be basically came all this way for nothing!--"

"--Let's just go home now, since no one will let us accomplish anything."

We're discouraged because all we've gotten so far on this trip is B-roll footage. We basically only have two more days after today to get the footage we need. Then we meet up in Thailand with the other group that we came here with. We feel the day is wasted. We round the corner, still ranting to each other, and run into Mike and the other guys. We start all over again on our rant, telling him what happened and what we weren't able to get. We vent to him all our frustrations about the footage we still don't have, and won't be able to get. So far, this documentary is going to suck. It will be nothing but a tour of Cambodia, with a lot of shots of just the street out of the back of the tuk-tuks. LAME.

Mike listens patiently, the sets off to go resolve some of our issues. We need to talk to Randy, who is in charge of the orphanages, to see if he won't change his mind about the interviews. We also have an interview with Rin, a very charismatic and talented 30 year old Cambodian who is a teacher and mentor at the boys' orphanage. He speaks English well, and he is willing to be interviewed about his past.

His father abandoned him when he was very young, and his mother died a few years later. He was taken into the home of some relatives, but they abused him and made him feel worthless. He ran away and lived out on the streets, turning to a life of gambling and cheating, stealing, and prostituting himself for money. Male prostitutes here aren't like what you might think. Women don't pay them for sex. It is the men who take advantage of their services. I won't go into detail.

The whole interview is cinematic gold. Success.

This is Rin:


We interview Solomon, another local with a similar story. He doesn't speak English as well as Rin, and he isn't as open about certain aspects of his past, but it is still footage we can use. Another success.

Today isn't totally wasted after all. In fact, we got more done today than we have so far on this trip. We go eat dinner at a Thai restaurant. They serve yellow water there. I decide to be brave and try it. It tastes exactly like popcorn flavored jelly beans.



Mike orders a plate of what looks like testicles of some animal. No, thank you. He assures me it's delicious. Nah, I'm good. Now everyone at the table is staring at me, waiting for me to try one. Fine. I'll cave to peer pressure. I take one and put it in my mouth, chewing slowly. It's pretty good. Tastes like sausage.

We then make our way to Jars of Clay, the internet cafe, for some desserts and free Wi-fi. Mike is happy with how the day turned out, in spite of our stumbling blocks. He pays for all of our desserts. We are all in an especially good mood tonight. We're all laughing and joking and teasing each other. This is the best mood anyone has been in this whole trip. Before this trip, we were okay friends. In my case, I didn't know anyone except Mike before Fall Semester began. This trip has forced us to all get to know each other on a deeper level, and now we're like a family. We've seen each other's grumpy sides, but we still like each other. We've had to share some tight spaces. We've squeezed in uncomfortably close to each other when the situation called for it. We've been there for each other on bumpy bus rides, when we're tired and we need a shoulder to rest our head on. We know way too much about each other at this point, but it only makes me like everyone more.

Stairs that lead to nowhere:


Girls from Children of Hope orphanage sitting on a shelf outside their bedroom:


Kids at school, writing in Khmer:




Some observations of Cambodia:

- Maximum capacity of a scooter: five people.

- Maximum capacity of a small sized tuk-tuk: As many as are willing to pile on each others' laps, or up to 8. Just know that the more you pile in, the slower the tuk-tuk will go. Ours yesterday could only go about 15 mph.

- All the staircases here are incredibly steep, and each stair is really narrow. I have to turn my feet sideways as I walk down the stairs, because my big, giant American foot is too big for each stair. Landon made the point that it is because they don't have the luxury of laying out a ton of room for a regular sized staircase. Everything basically has to go straight up.

- There are dogs everywhere, just roaming the streets. You get used to how it is in America, where everyone keeps their dogs indoors, behind a fence, or on a leash. If you did that here, people would think you were crazy.

- Everyone wears hot pink, all the time--even the guys. Especially the guys. Giant buildings here are painted completely hot pink. Pink is everywhere. I love this country. Why can't it be like that in the U.S.?

- Everyone wears shorts and flip flops here. Even the construction workers. I saw one construction worker today in a tank top, shorts, and flip flops, with a giant beanie looking thing covering his face, with eye holes cut out. He was welding something. Someone needs to come over here and teach these people about safety.

- These people have nothing, but they smile all the time. I think these people are happier with their nothing than we are with our everything.


Smells of Cambodia:

- Dog
- Human feces
- Incense
- Dog
- Thai food that has been sitting out for several days
- Human feces

I've also picked up on some Khmer (pronounced K'my):

Thank you: akun
Hello: sosadai
Good luck: sosabai
Sorry/Excuse me: sumto
Goodbye: lehi
No: atay

(Note: The spellings are probably way off, but google translate doesn't translate to Khmer, so I couldn't look up proper spelling.)

Day Five:

It is a new day. We are awoken at 8:15 a.m. Mike and Judah have left to go check out a potential location to shoot at. We get ready for the day and then offload our files onto our hard drives. It takes us a while - the hard drives are getting full. Finally, we're ready by ten a.m. Abraham meets us downstairs and the five of us set out to find breakfast.

This is our first real glimpse of Phnom Penh. Yesterday doesn't count because what we saw of the city was under the cover of darkness. We have no idea where we're going. You can't just walk into any restaurant here; the food can't always be trusted. And since we know virtually none of the language, we need to make sure we find a place where they speak or understand at least some English. We circle the block and make our way back to our teamhouse for directions. There, we meet Ping, a local boy of thirteen, wearing a preppy blue shirt and some matching plaid shorts, who offers to be our guide. He takes us to Jars of Clay, a restaurant affiliated with Judah's organization. There, we partake in the best food I've had thus far in our journey.

Water of Life is the name of the orphanage we visit first. We meet Nita, who loves getting her picture taken. She cuddles up to me as we look at the pictures I've taken of her.

I want to take her home with me.

We leave the orphanage in a tuk-tuk and it drops us off about ten blocks from the restaurant where we plan on eating. The first block, we meet several kids carrying baskets, selling some merchandise.

"You buy? Only three for one dollah," one boy offers, looking at me. I tell him no, thank you. He asks again. And again. We start walking away, and he follows us. The whole time, he is talking.

"You buy, three for one dollah. You buy. One dollah, for three."

No matter how many times I tell him no, and no matter how far from his store we walk, he keeps following me and asking me to buy from him. Well, as long as he is here, I decide to strike up a conversation with him.

"What's your name?"

"Ching."

"How old are you, Ching?"

"Ten."

"You speak pretty good English."

"Yes, because I go to school."

"Oh yeah? What grade are you in?"

"3."

He is cute. I could take this one home with me too. He finally breaks me down.

"Okayyy, what are you selling?" I finally ask. He knew when he first saw me the sucker that I am. I find a bracelet that I like in his basket and realize at the same time that my smallest bill is a $10. He doesn't have change. I apologize and start walking again. He follows us all ten blocks to the restaurant. I snap a picture him from behind - if he knew I'd taken the photo, he would expect me to pay him for it.



We eat lunch at a place called Sugar and Spice cafe. It is a restaurant that helps girls and boys get out of prostitution. All the workers there are young people that have been rescued out of prostitution. We make a group decision to go back there and interview some of the girls.

Part II: The Building

We set out for a place called "The Building". Even the title sounds ominous. The place itself is even more ominous than it sounds. The Building is a place full of children and young women who sell their bodies for money, that all the locals seem to know about. We get in our tuk-tuk and tell the driver, "The Building," and he knows exactly where to go. This is the building:



We climb the first set of stairs and start making our way down a long, dark hallway. It smells of dog and piss. I can't see my hand in front of my face. At times I get the feeling that there is someone standing against the wall as I pass, watching me. I keep walking and try to stay with the group. A group of old ladies sitting on the floor are gambling and giving us the stink-eye.



Judah talks to a lot of the people we pass in the halls, asking if there are any girls here that sell their bodies that are willing to be interviewed. An old woman lets us in her house and is willing to talk to us, but doesn't admit any knowledge about the prostitution that goes on here.



We search around some more, and talk to a few people, but the general consensus is that because of Chinese New Year, everyone is away, visiting their families. We get back in the tuk-tuk and head back home.

There is a lot of traffic. While we're stopped behind a line of cars, a girl that couldn't be older than seven or eight approaches our tuk-tuk from the sidewalk. She looks at Judah and offers "yum-yum". Yum-yum is what they call oral sex. Words can't express the sadness that I am filled with when I look into her eyes. She is so young, so innocent. She doesn't know that what she is doing is bad. Her parents tell her that this is what she needs to do to help support the family. If I met those parents, I would probably murder them.

We return to Water of Life, where the boys stay. All the girls and boys are there for worship. Accompanied by the piano, everyone sings Christian songs and takes turns reading from the Bible. Nita, a little tiny girl with big brown eyes, cuddles with me on my lap.



Then I find out Nita has TB. Crap. I probably have it now.

Day Four: You Take Your Sorry Back

Part I:
I wake up at exactly six a.m. on the nose. The sun is just about to rise over the city of Siem Riep. My alarm isnt supposed to ring until 6:30, but I don't try to fall back asleep.

Have you ever been conscious of the fact that you're showering in the same room as a spider? So you keep an eye on it the whole time, just in case it moves? Yeah, that was me this morning. It was just a daddy long leg. But who wants ANY kind of spider crawling on their skin??



There are a lot of "Engrish" signs at the Angkor Tep guest house. Here are a few examples:







We leave the guest house around nine a.m. Destination: Angkor Wat.











Angkor Wat is a temple built around 1100 A.D. It is also the birthplace of prostitution in Cambodia. We get some photos and footage of the structure, which is, in and of itself, very beautiful. Judah points out some engravings and describes how, allegedly, they depict children being sold as sex slaves to the king. It is a commonly held belief in Cambodia that having sex with a virgin will give you power, veracity, and can cure AIDS. That is why the children are sold so young - the clients want to make sure that they really are virgins.

We make our way to the market, just across the way. Judah knows some people that have a shop here. They give us all coconut water, which we drink through a straw straight from the coconut. The shops here (and I'm not trying to be racist or anything) are EXACTLY like China Town in New York City. If you've never been there, all the shops are the size of the inside of a large van, they're all divided by a single, thin wall, and all the store owners and their families (who work there) are VERY persistent. They will follow you everywhere you go and guilt you into coming into their shop, or into buying whatever merchandise they are carrying around. One kid with big buck teeth that looks like he is ten or twelve starts following Landon around, trying to get him to buy a souvenir magnet with a picture of Angkor Wat on it.

"You buy magnet, only one dollah," he insists.

"No, that's ok," Landon politely replies.

"Three for two dollah?"

"No really, I'm ok." We keep walking away.

"You buy magnet. Only one dollah!"

"No thanks, sorry," apologizes Landon, still walking away. The boy stops dead as we continue to walk away.

"You take your sorry back..." the boy says in his soft voice, trailing off, the tone reminding me of Stuart from Mad TV. Asian Stuart.

At the market, I have offers from three different people, offering to buy my shirt. That was kind of a weird experience.

Judah introduces us to Lei:



Lei is a small-framed girl who looks to be about 14 years old. She claims she's 22. She is also a prostitute. We need to interview her quickly, because she has an appointment with a client in thirty minutes. Judah sits down with her and starts asking her questions. I am floored by her answers. She's been a prostitute since she was ten years old. She does it because her family is poor and she needs to help make money for them. In spite of everything, she never stops smiling. My heart breaks for her situation.

We have to stop the interview, because a police officer and a large crowd has gathered. They don't like the idea of a bunch of Americans exploiting Lei's situation. The seven of us get out of there fast.

Later, we pass these two adorable kids sitting on the ruins.



"Can I take your picture?" I ask. Even if it's a child, it is polite here to ask for permission, rather than to just assume it's ok. They excitedly oblige. When I've finished taking the picture, one boy speaks up.

"You give us one dollah?" he asks with a hopeful smile. Uhhh...I hadn't expected to pay the kid for the picture! Then he noticed I was carrying a bag with all of our empty water bottles (garbage cans here aren't all that common, and I'd been looking for one for a while). The boy points to a bag on the ground in front of me that I hadn't noticed. It was a small bag with only a few bottles in it. As I kneel down to put my empty bottles in their bag, I realize that these kids are here to attract tourists. Their parents coach them to ask for money if someone takes their picture. They sit in the hot sun all day and wait for people to come along so they can collect their empty water bottles.

I guess my childhood wasn't so bad.

We finish touring the grounds of Angkor Wat, and get back in the tuk-tuks we've rented for the day. They take us back to our guest house, where our luggage is. We eat lunch at the restaurant there, inviting our two tuk-tuk drivers to join us, which they do.. Mike points out that it is probably the biggest meal they've had in a long time. When we finish, it is time to gather our belongings and leave again. It is going to be another long day of traveling from this point on. Our tuk-tuk drivers take us to the bus station, where we are to board a bus to Phnom Penh. We are told it will be another five and a half hour ride.

I guess there'd been some miscommunication between Judah and the tuk-tuk drivers as to the amount we'd be paying them for renting their services for the day. He's given them each $7 dollars.

"Too cheap," one argues. He holds out his hand for more. Judah doesn't budge.

"That was our deal," he says. Something tells me that the details of this "deal" have gotten lost in translation. The drivers look pissed. I tell Mike of what's going on and he finds the drivers and gives them each an extra $5. They seem a little more satisfied with this arrangement.

Part II: Satan's Bus

We board a bus. Destination: Phnom Penh. It departs at 4:45 p.m. It is scheduled to arrive at our destination at 10:15 p.m.. It soon gets dark. There are no street lights, or lights of any kind to light our way, aside from the bus' headlights. It then becomes ice cold aboard Satan's bus - the air conditioning is relentless. There is no way of turning it off or even redirecting it. We try to get some sleep in spite of this. This effort is futile.

We can't possibly sleep, because the ride is so bumpy. It is more than bumpy. It's like we're traveling the road into the depths of Hell. The road has so many potholes and inexplicable mounds. Why are the mounds there? How did they come to be? I would like to know. Suddenly the road construction that seems to be ongoing in Utah doesn't seem to be that much of an inconvenience. Most of the roads we travel on are unpaved, here aboard Satan's bus. It feels as though we've traveled back through time, to when dinosaurs ruled the earth. Each giant dip and mound are just dried up footprints of a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

It is pitch black. We can't see a thing outside the bus. All we know is that inside the bus, there are knuckle marks on the seats in front of us where the handles are, from people that have come before, holding on so tight. We wonder if the last bus had had any survivors, or if they just removed the bodies with a shovel. It's almost like we're in a crappy Universal Studios ride, where the seats are moving and jolting you all over the place, but the screen projector is broken, so you can't see a single thing that is going on.

9:00 p.m: We stop in the middle of a Cambodian ghetto where the driver fills up on gas and the passengers have the chance to use the bathroom. I exit the bus and stretch my legs. I don't really have to pee all that bad, but I figure it's probably a good idea, since I don't know when will be the next chance I'll get.

The bathroom is dimly lit, with only one small, flickering florescent light in the far edge of the room. There are ten stalls. I look in each one...there is no toilet paper. Instead, there is a spray hose next to each toilet - the ghetto version of a beday. I rack my brain for ideas. Paper towels perhaps? But there aren't any. I get back on the bus without "going". I'm sure we'll be there soon enough, I think.

10:15 p.m: This is when we were supposed to arrive at our destination. The word on the street is that it'll be another two more hours. At this point, I can't feel the lower half of my body.

12:15 a.m: It is now two hours later. We have been on this bus for seven and a half hours. Judah gets up to ask our estimated arrival time.

"One more hour," the driver assures him. Yeah, right.

12:45 a.m: I have to pee. Reeeally bad.

1:00 a.m: We arrive at the bus station. And I'm in a pissy mood. Just as taxi drivers in New York wait at train stations for trains to come so they can be the first to bid for potential passengers needing a ride home, the tuk-tuk drivers wait at the bus station doing the same thing. I step off the bus and am immediately bombarded by three different drivers, each asking me where I'm going, how many people are with me, and if I need a tuk-tuk. The LAST thing I want right now is for someone to talk to me, let alone pester me about giving them business. The offers keep coming, and I blow them off. We've already reserved our own tuk-tuks. Leave me alone.

1:30 a.m: We arrive at the team house, a block away from the orphanage.

2:00 a.m: It's the second day in a row where we haven't had access to the Internet. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't be that big of a deal. But I'd been promised that we'd have Internet tonight. I'd been counting on it. Andrea and I agree to go to the internet cafe tomorrow.

Day Three: Milking the Tiger

12:30 a.m. - I'd been asleep since 7 pm by this point; five and a half hours. (my body is still not quite adjusted to Thai time yet). I wake up and Allie and Andrea are asleep. While I was sleeping, my hat and camera had been relocated to a safe place on a shelf, as I had fallen asleep with them earlier. I'm not tired enough to go back to sleep. I bide my time, editing some photos on my computer that I'd taken yesterday. Suddenly, to my left there is a bright flash of light and the jolting sound of an electrical power surge. Andrea's converter that had been plugged into the wall, charging her Mac has fried. Neither Allie nor Andrea are awoken by this, so I shake Allie awake, who had been sleeping right next to the converter, to tell her about what just happened. She unplugged the converter. It was hot to the touch. Macs convert voltage automatically to the appropriate voltage it needs, no matter your region. Lesson learned. When charging a Mac in a foreign country, use an adaptor, not a converter. Or else it will be converted twice. Or something.

6 a.m. - ring! ring! We're awakened by the abrupt and harsh sound of the hotel phone by the bed. Allie answers it.

"It's six o'clock!" the voice on the other end announces in a very thick Thai accent. It is the man at the front desk. Mike had ordered a wake up call for us. Allie thanks him and hangs up. There is good news today: we found Judah! There had been a misunderstanding with the meet up date, but at least he is finally here. He arrived late last night from Cambodia, and is here to bring us back there.

We shower and get ready. The thing about humidity is that no matter how much you towel off, you're never dry. Our skin is in a perpetual state of hot and sticky. The bug spray and sunscreen we apply every morning only make it worse.

Our hotel serves breakfast. It isn't free, but everything is less than 150 baht, or five U.S. dollars. We sit at a table and begin reviewing the menu. Something small on the table moves and catches my eye. I look and notice the table is crawling with ants. I point this out to the group and for some reason, no one else seems to mind. I feel stupid for pointing it out. I already have the reputation with this group of being the "girly-girl". I try to hide my really girly side. It's a good thing we haven't encountered any giant bugs or spiders...yet.

I order some toast, hot chocolate, ham & scrambled eggs, and a plate of fruit. It is a lot of food, but I hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday, so I am famished. The hot chocolate tastes like tea with a hint of unsweetened chocolate flavor. It's not terrible. My favorite part of the meal is the fresh pineapple on my fruit plate.

I feel like there are ants in my nose.

We pack up and leave the hotel in two taxis. Our destination: the bus station. We need to take the express bus to the border of Cambodia, a six hour drive. It is hot and humid outside, and the air conditioning on the bus doesn't seem to work all that well. I take some Dramamine and try to get some more shut-eye. I wake up to a really weird part of a conversation that Allie, Andrea, and Landon are having. Something about girls pretending to be lesbians to get guys' attention....by this point in our trip though we've pretty much covered all other subjects, so I guess it is only natural for the topic to head in that direction. If nothing else, let's talk lesbians.

4 pm - We arrive at the Cambodian border. We go through the motions and wait in line, show some officials our passports, wait in line again, show some more officials our Visas, all the while hauling all of our equipment and luggage. We enter the city of Poi Pet.

Cambodia is VERY different from Bangkok. A lot of the roads are unpaved. There's garbage everywhere. EVERYONE is on scooters. Remember a few years ago when some papparazzi caught Britney Spears holding her baby on her lap while driving her car? And how everyone made such a big deal about it? Well here, they fit four people, including young babies, on one scooter. And no one cares. I really don't think they have any safety laws here.

It is incredibly hot, we're exhausted and drenched in sweat, and we haven't eaten since breakfast. It is Chinese New Year though, so not every restaurant is open. We take another bus that takes us a few miles into Poi Pet. The cars here drive on the right side of the road, unlike Thailand. We exit the bus after a few minutes, and then it's back to walking some more. Soon, we come to a coffee shop. Judah removes his shoes and enters the cafe. The rest of us follow suit. A man named Cham No owns the cafe and is a friend of Judah's. He takes us to another restaurant that he owns down the road, and feeds us there. Because I am afraid of the other items on the menu, I order grilled cheese, a decision I regret the instant I finish eating it and realize that I am still starving. Perhaps it isn't hunger that is making me weak, but rather heat exhaustion and lack of water and sleep. Allie generously shares some sweethearts and laffy taffies with me, which helps boost my energy levels immensely.

We have to push through the tired, because we're not on vacation. We've got work to do. Our next stop is the orphanage that Cham No owns. It is a gated farm with several fish ponds, banana and coffee trees, chickens, geese, and ducks. This orphanage houses 32 children of different ages. We interview him as he is fishing in one of the ponds at sunset. He has an amazing story to tell, but it's too long to share here.



The sun sets and it's time to go. Andrea finishes recording the ambient noise of the farm (birds and crickets chirping, water splashing, ducks quacking) and we set off for Siem Riep by van. It is a two hour ride. At least we had some really good air conditioning this time. We get to the Angkor Tep guest house and Judah books four rooms. There are seven of us. One of us will get their own room. Abraham and Landon decide to share. Judah and Mike take another room. Which means one of us girls gets our own room....so I call it. I really do love and get along with everyone in our group, but I need some alone time.

We each find our rooms and all of them are hot, just like the rest of this place. We see that there is an air conditioner in each room, but none of us can figure out how to work it! I volunteer to go ask the man at the front desk how to work the A/C.

I keep telling him, "Air conditioning. How do you turn it on?" he doesn't understand. "Air, cold!" I say. He leaves the room and I am thoroughly confused.

Man, this communication barrier is frustrating.

Then Judah comes downstairs and I ask him to ask the man how to work the A/C. The man from the front desk is back with his wife. They are carrying a mini fridge to bring upstairs to my room. Judah straightens out the situation for us.

It is now ten pm. We eat dinner at the restaurant just outside the guest house. I don't remember really being there at all, because I'm beyond the point of exhaustion. I sit in my chair, staring blankly at a wall. I've mentally checked out.

We get back and the four of us group members, Landon, Allie. Andrea, and I, meet up in the girls' room to discuss the focus of our documentary and what we want to do tomorrow and for the rest of the trip. It is productive, aside from all of the giggling. Again, we're way beyond the point of tired. And with that, I'm going to pass out now.

Day Two: Dog Meat?

We arrive in Bangkok on a "Bus Plane". There is no terminal; we exit the plane by climbing down some stairs and are greeted with the hot, humid air of Thailand. We take five steps on solid ground before boarding a bus that brings us to a building. It is midnight here in Thailand, but only ten a.m. in Utah. On the seven hour plane ride from Tokyo to Bangkok, I'd slept almost the whole time, so my body is still on Utah time. It's dark outside, but it doesn't feel like it should be midnight. My body is so confused. And a little angry at me for messing with it's routine. I guess I never knew the true meaning of being jet-lagged until now.

Judah is our client. He came to Bangkok a week ago. He's been corresponding with two of our group members as to when and where we should meet when we get here. We thought he was going to pick us all up at one in the morning today, the 21st. But Andrea checks her email again and re-reads his email.

"I'll meet you at Bangkok airport at one a.m. on the 22nd."

The 22nd? Crap. We're going to be sitting here at the airport for a while.

We wait until almost 2 a.m. then decide to take a caravan of three taxis (there's 12 of us) to the K.T. Guest House, since none of us have any idea where Judah is. I get to ride in a hot pink taxi.



Cars here don't exactly seem to have traffic laws, or the laws don't seem to be enforced, anyway. We spend most of this ride halfway between two lanes. Turn signals are scarcely used. The lanes and the driver's seat are all on the opposite side than we're used to. It is two in the morning, and apparently this city doesn't sleep. We're passing cafes and restaurants and people are just sitting outside drinking coffee and chatting.

We arrive at K.T. Guest House. I've never wanted a shower more in my whole life. The shower in this bathroom has no curtain, no divider from the rest of the bathroom. Just a small step down, and you're in the shower. I don't care. It is the most glorious and most needed shower I'd ever taken.

It is 1 pm in Utah. It is 3 am here. I slept enough on the 3rd plane, so I'm not tired enough to sleep. I spend a few hours on my computer until I decide it would be a good idea to sleep a little bit before we get going again at 7 am, Thai time.

It is 7:30 a.m. We still can't find Judah. He was supposed to meet us at 7 a.m. Our plan today was to take a bus to Poi Pet to ride the elephants and play with baby tigers. But we really need Judah to be our guide and our translator. So we work on plan B. We'll stay here in Bangkok for an extra day, practicing using our recording equipment and getting some shots and sound recordings of things we can use in the documentary. This way, even if we can't find Judah, today won't go to waste. We only have eleven days. Two of those days are travel days; which gives us nine days to shoot everything we need for our documentary. We need to get busy.

We're hungry, so most of us leave the hotel in search of food. 7 Elevens are on every corner here, so we get some breakfast there. Around the corner, a woman cooks some meat in her little food stand. It smells pretty good. Landon decides to be brave and buy some, although he has no idea what kind of meat it is. He takes a bite. I am debating as to whether or not I want to be brave too and try some. Landon lets me try some of his. It has an interesting flavor - not really in a good way. We decide it's dog meat. Landon waits till we're out of sight of the woman who sold it to him, then throws the mystery meat away.



9 a.m. rolls around. Still no Judah. Plan B goes into effect. We assemble our recording gear (cameras, lenses, microphones) and set out for the streets of Bangkok.

You may think this is a nice, pleasant little river. But that's poop water right there.


This is a tuk-tuk:








Everyone loves getting their picture taken here.
































We come across a man in the market. He has one leg, and is wheeling himself around on a tiny platform with wheels. His young daughter follows closely behind as he slowly wheels himself back and forth, up and down the pathway of the market. He holds out a bowl with only a few coins in it - he's a beggar. We give him 40 baht (slightly more than one American dollar) and ask if we can take his photo. He nods.



We meet back at the K.T. Guest House. Still no Judah. We part ways with six of our group members, who are going off to another part of Thailand to shoot a different documentary. It is down to Alauna, Andrea, Landon, Abraham, Mike, and I. Mike arranges for us to stay another night at the Guest House, as it is becoming more and more apparent that we aren't meeting up with Judah any time soon. We book two rooms; three of us in each room. By this time, we are starving! We take our cameras and audio recorders and head out again for a quick bite and then for more camera work. Mike has gotten the address to a restaurant nearby. We hail another hot pink cab and the driver gestures for all of us all to get in. All six of us (seven, with the driver). In a four seater Toyota corolla.

Mike and Abraham cram in front, while the rest of us squeeze into the back. I am defaulted to someone's lap, of course. Fortunately, the cab ride is short, and before we know it, we've arrived at the restaurant.

We eat, and everything is delicious. Mike and Abraham each order the same thing, and it is so spicy, tears stream from Mike's eyes, and sweat beads on Abraham's forehead. Although it may have burned holes in their insides, they claim they liked it anyways.



We hail another cab, and this time, Landon and I get to sit up front, while the rest of the group crams in the back. This time, it's a forty-five minute cab ride to the pier, where we run to catch a ferry, just as it's about to speed away from the dock. We make it in just in time. The ferry ride is only 15 baht, which is less than 50 U.S. cents. This is my favorite part of the day.









The ferry takes us to The Grand Palace, which is where the king stays when he visits...I think. I'll have to do some more research on that.

Next, we take a tuk-tuk around this part of the city. We stop at a Buddhist temple, and take some pictures of it while our tuk-tuk drivers wait.

4 pm: I don't know about everyone else, but I'm losing steam by this point. I haven't really had a full night's sleep since Tuesday night. We take the tuk-tuk over to a suit shop, where some of our group members order custom made clothes. Here, you can get three custom made shirts, a custom made suit, and two sport coats, also custom made, for only around $400 U.S. dollars. Alauna gets fitted for and orders a long, purple evening gown, and it's only $130.

5, or maybe 6 pm: It's time to go back to our hotel. We're all exhausted. We try to hail a cab, but instead, another tuk-tuk pulls over. We exchange glances. It's a long way home....should we really take a tuk-tuk, which would be smaller and less comfortable than a taxi? The tuk-tuk driver claims he can take all six of us. Yeah, right. We hail another tuk-tuk. Three of us get in the first tuk-tuk, and the other three climb into the second one. Some of us are more than happy at the chance to ride home in tuk-tuks, since there are two of them, rather than cramming everyone into one Corolla. It's a long ride, and it's getting dark outside.

The night life has already begun to emerge. The streets are crowded with shops and little carts with people selling food. We notice the prostitutes standing out on the corners with their pimps standing behind them, ready to make a deal. It's sad to watch, but at least these ones appear to be over the age of eighteen. We have yet to witness any younger ones, although we undoubtedly will several times over the course of our journey.

When we arrive back at the hotel, around 6 or 7 pm, I lay down on the bed, fully dressed, hat and all, and pass out. For several hours. I hadn't meant to! I was just going to rest my eyes for a bit, before getting in the swimming pool. But I was much more tired than I'd thought I was. I miss dinner, but that's ok. I wasn't really hungry anyway. I may or may not have eaten dog meat today.

Day One: 20 Hours of Daylight

The Plan: Meet at Andrea's house in Orem at five a.m. I dont trust myself enough to wake up on time, and I have a lot to do. I'll get plenty of sleep on the plane, I think. So I stay up all night, packing for the trip and cleaning my house. Listening to Muse and Skrillex to keep my eyes open. It works. 4:40 rolls around and the knots form in my stomach. Time to go.

I'm nervous because I've never left the country before. I've never flown over the ocean. Our destination seems dangerous, with sex traffickers and brothels all over the place. None of us know the language. But I worry too much! So I stop psyching myself out. Worrying accomplishes nothing.

Landon and I meet at Andrea's at 5. We load up our gear and are off by 5:15. We pick up Alauna in Lehi, and arrive at the Delta terminal of the airport by 6:30 a.m. The rest of the team are already there, waiting for us. We check our bags at the front and make our way through security and to the gate, passports in hand.

We will take a total of three planes over the next 28 hours. Our first plane takes off from Salt Lake and lands in Portland. I sleep for probably a couple of minutes, but for the most part I just stay awake, entertaining myself with a movie on my computer. We arrive in Portland and wait two hours. Then we board our 767 plane - it is the biggest plane I've ever been in. There were at least 40 - 50 rows, and 3 columns. My seat is in the middle column. It is 12:10 Pacific time when we take off. I think to myself, I should take some Dramamine now so I don't get sick during take-off. I am already feeling slightly queasy. But by the time I think to ask a flight attendant for some water, we're already about to take off, and it's too late.

It's our plane's turn for the runway. The engines roar and vibrate the cabin. We start moving. Faster. Faster, even. It's rainy outside. Visibility is low. We leave the ground and immediately there's turbulence. I just know I'm going to puke. I can feel it coming on. I am holding a Dramamine tablet in my palm, trying to muster up enough saliva to put it in my mouth and swallow it without water. After a few minutes, I am fairly confident that I have enough moisture in my mouth to swallow my pill. I take the pill between my two fingers and put it in my mouth. Immediately I am filled with regret. The pill begins to dissolve almost instantaneously - it's disgusting. I can tell that if I were to swallow it now, I would surely gag. I put my hand over my mouth and focused on getting more saliva in my mouth. Mike and Jack, who are sitting on either side of me are worried that I'm going to hurl all over them. I don't blame them. Finally, the bitter pill dissolves completely in my mouth, leaving my mouth entirely numb, and I manage to swallow what's left. I start feeling better.

This plane ride is eleven hours long. I try to sleep for a bit. Read a few pages of my book. Listen to music on my phone. Sleep a few minutes more. Play a game of Mahjong on my phone (in honor of being in Asia, I guess?). Sleep again. Mike and I watch The Island on my computer, using my headphone splitter. More sleeping. The flight attendants give us dinner, and then breakfast - in that order.

12:36 a.m. MST: We finally arrive on solid ground. In Utah, it is the middle of the night. It's 4:36 p.m. and still bright outside in Tokyo, and we have another two hour layover before catching our next plane to Bangkok. The last thing I want to do is sit, so we go walk around for a while. Some of us exchange our dollars for yen, and the cashiers at the souvenir shops help us with counting out the coins.

It reminds me of when I was on the other end of this situation, working at the outlets in Gilroy, California. Apparently it's a pretty famous outlet mall, and we got visitors from all over the world. One time two girls that were from Asia were at the checkout, buying some clothes. I told them their total, and they looked at me and just handed me all of their dollars and American change. I counted it out for them, and took what they owed for their purchase. It is strange being on the flip side of that.



It seems like no time at all has passed by the time we start boarding our last plane out of Tokyo to Bangkok. This time, I've learned my lesson. I ask the first flight attendant I see for some water so I could take my Dramamine. I am already so exhausted, and the Dramamine only makes it worse. I fall asleep almost immediately after I board the plane. I don't even remember taking off. For pretty much the entirety of this plane ride, I am dead to the world. That sleep was much needed. And now it is tomorrow.