Couch + Surfing =

As my time in Phnom Penh winds down (5 days and counting), I find myself thinking about all the reasons why I've loved spending the last few months in this one of a kind city. A vast list begins to pile up, that I will hopefully be able to focus on in another blog. But, for now, I just want to talk about one. Diving into this particular adventure had been lurking at the back of mind for quite some time, but when I finally did, the results were even more incredible than I'd imagined.

You've most likely relaxed on a couch before. Perhaps you've had dinner on a couch. I'm sure you've been involved in lifting a couch at least once. Probably, you've cleaned your couch. No doubt you've slept on a couch. Maybe you've even jumped on a couch. But have you ever surfed a couch??? For myself, I'd only had two personal experiences with this verb being applied to living room furniture. Once I surfed another's couch in Korea, and once my own couch was surfed. I had merely dabbled in the vast world of couch surfing. Finally, here in Phnom Penh, circumstances aligned. We had a welcoming home, boasting a great location, in a city that attracts hoards of backpackers, and we had a whole extra bedroom. Shortly after our bags were unpacked, I updated my dusty couchsurfing profile and tried to make it sparkle. Happily, it didn't take long for the couch requests to start flooding in.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with couchsurfing, let me explain. It's a global network of travelers who create profiles and connect with other traveler type folks. These connections are often made in the form of a traveling person requesting to sleep on the 'couch' of a currently stationary person. It's basically a "Hey, how's it going. Nice to meet you. Here let me help you with your bag. Great, well this is your bed in my house for the next few days. Here's an extra set of keys. Let me tell about this place that I live in..." kinda thing. As well as so much more. Millions of people have hosted or surfed with perfect strangers in faraway lands, and the experiences have been overwhelmingly positive. Kinda cool, huh?

My own interest in couchsurfing arose out of a desire to share with others some of the random and amazing hospitality that I've received over my years on the road. Growing up in the states, I have to admit I hadn't really experienced that sort of blanket generosity, and such unquestionable trust and open friendliness truly humbled me and left me in awe. I wanted to share in that beautiful simplicity of people being good and helpful to other people, even though they were strangers, and without asking for anything in return.

Abraham and Ilana

It was on a random day back in May, that a stranger named Brandon arrived at our door, after pre-arranging his stay. Awkwardly, our rookie hosting skills welcomed him in and showed him around. It didn't take long before we were sitting in our living room together, avidly listening while he told his fascinating story of being arrested in Laos for smoking weed. A week later, Asha entered our apartment with her brother Ken, and with her contagiously bright smile and vivacious spirit. An atypical young Korean woman, who feels more at home in the mountains of India than on the shopping streets of Seoul, one couldn't help but be infected by her enthusiasm for life. The next week it was Shannon and Ben who graced our doorstep. He told fascinating stories of being an army lawyer in Seoul, while she recounted a truly hilarious tale of partaking in an actual shake weight competition in Yeoido. Abraham and Ilana fed our curiosities about their African homes, and proved to be genuinely great people to kick back and swap ridiculous and profound travel stories with. Gavin moved in for a few days straight after that, jumping right into the story of how he'd fallen in love with a girl from Indonesia, almost married her, and the heartbreak that followed. Another week passed, and then it was Massimiliano's turn to crash in our spare room, while he pumped us full of so much information on traveling & living in South/Cental America we might just be experts now! Not to mention that divine Italian meal he made for us as well. Sasti and her friend Sofie only passed through briefly, but she made quite an impression when she helped us mop up the aftereffects of our washing machine flooding our whole apartment! Last but definitely not least, Craig and Amy stayed with us for the better part of a week, filling our rooms with their good vibes and easy smiles.

Craig and Amy

Though nothing is asked in return, we have unexpectedly received a mountain of rewards, (as seems to be the case with so many things when they are freely given). Dave and I have hardly left the city limits of Phnom Penh over the last 10 weeks, but 5 different continents have come to us. Over a dozen people from 9 separate countries have passed through our spare bedroom. It has been a truly incredible way of keeping my lust for travel alive, while also enjoying the comforts of a stationary home. Every new person that walks in with a big smile on their face, brings with them fascinating stories, unique experiences, fresh perspectives, and a healthily adventurous spirit. What an amazing gift to have that energy constantly walking into your house! It's inspiring, and it keeps both Dave and I on our toes, ensuring that we never fall into any kind of hum-drum-every-day-is-the-same routine.

Thank you to the friendly, inspiring, hilarious, interesting, helpful, energetic, informative, open-minded, creative and positive couch surfers who have given us the privilege of hosting them for a wee while in our humble home:

• Brandon, from the USA.
• Asha and her brother Ken, from South Korea.
• Shannon and Ben, US expats living in S. Korea
• Abraham and Ilana, from South Africa and Namibia
• Gavin, from Ireland
• Massimiliano, from Italy
• Sasti and Sofie, from Indonesia
• Craig and Amy, from New Zealand and the UK 

Time to go do some surfing of our own now!

I get around.

In this part of the world, getting from A to B is rarely as straightforward as it seems. The simple attempt to transport myself within Cambodia has included everything from being chauffeured by a tuk-tuk fit for a hero, to breaking the sound barrier in a death defying car journey, to lazy bicycling around remote river islands. The only rule seems to be: No matter what I've experienced before, there's just no way of ever knowing what I'm getting into, the next time I decide to journey outside my temporary home.

Our first major journey here was so shockingly smooth and comfortable, I was ready to vote Cambodian bus services among the best in SE Asia. Course, this was to be immediately followed by a patience testing experience, where the bus tickets we'd purchased bought us nothing more than an hour long wait at a roadside pitstop, as we watched the proprietor futilely attempt to wave down the unfazed buses that whizzed past. A world weathered man eventually pulled up in an even more weathered car, and a realization slowly crept in, that this was meant to be our best hope of getting into a vehicle anytime soon. Not without a healthy dose of hesitation, Dave and I clambered into the backseat... only to realize that there were no backs to the seats. The upholstery fabric still hung, limp and frayed, but all form and structure of what the fabric was supposed to cover had disappeared at some unknown time in the car's very distant past. Great, I thought, so much for being able to sit back and relax at all during this 5 hour journey. That was before we shut the doors, and the driving began. Relaxation turned out to be the last thing on our minds. Race track speeds around narrow turns and stomach flipping swerves through unpredictable traffic quickly sent me into a prone position, trying to calm the uprising tides in my gut. Meanwhile, Dave sat rigid and riveted, every muscle tensed to prepare for the seemingly inevitable collision. Thus we remained for the next 3 1/2 hours, when we arrived at our destination far ahead of schedule... far ahead of what should have been possible... unbelievably with all limbs still attached.

A few days later, it was to be a luxury tuk-tuk Batmobile that provided our motorized mobility. (Yes, everything about what you just read is right.) For the 4 days that we explored this regions most prized ancient structures--the Temples of Angkor-- we shuffled between each of those jaw-dropping marvels of lost civilization, in indisputable style. Zooming past the ragtag numbers of normal putt-putting tuk-tuks, we belted out the Batman theme, knowing it would quickly became a distant hum in their ears as they ate our superhero dust.

Da na Na na na na Na na na na Na na na na Na na na na.... BATMAN!!!

After such chest inflating panache, we dialed it down a notch, and hired wiggly wobbly old bicycles to explore the Mekong River island of Koh Paen. Just getting there was half the fun. Every year they rebuild the bridge, because every rainy season it would be washed away if they didn't deconstruct it first. The material of choice for the entire bridge? Bamboo.
From a distance, it looks more like a pile of matchsticks that a strong wind might disrupt. Yet, even cars can clamber across this temporarily constructed gangway of thin hollow rods. Indeed, up close and underpedal, it proved to be remarkably strong...and crunchy... and sorta like pedaling through sand. Once on the other side, our slowed down pace lent itself perfectly to the slowed down way of life that was on display everywhere. Not for the first time in this part of the world, I was struck by how lucky I felt to truly see and experience so much of these people's daily lives. Wandering around Europe, New Zealand, certainly America, and even Korea, one is always left to guess what a day might look like for any individual. The modern world likes its fences. And tinted windows. And doors closed tightly, with locks secured. The modern world considers privacy an assumed and desired right, instead of a privilege, or even an unsocial snub at the community around you. On Koh Paen, life is public and shared. Open windows and doors (if they existed at all), seemed to breed open smiles, and everywhere we pedaled those warm smiles greeted us.

So much constant motion sometimes deserves a break. And break we did. The first month in Phnom Penh, we boarded no buses, rented no bikes, and undertook no journey more adventurous than an average tuk tuk lift across town. Then, our sense of adventure returned. Though drivers in Phnom Penh defy logic, follow almost no rules, and collide on a regular basis... still we decided, 'What the hell? Let's get a motorbike!' As well as two helmets. (I mean, c'mon, a sense of adventure does not negate a sense of wanting to survive said adventure.) Harrowing is definitely a term I would apply to navigating these streets, and I never even navigated them! I quickly realized I would be much happier relying on Dave's very capable motorbiking skills, and intermittently clutching tightly to his waist as collisions were narrowly avoided. Unexpectedly, our motorbiking days were ended prematurely, though not because of the knuckle whitening traffic, but because of the anger inducing Phnom Penh police force. We were pulled over three times in two weeks. Our western skins made us blatant targets and apparently meant that it didn't matter whether we were actually following the rules that nobody else follows. Twice we were bullied into paying exorbitant bribes far beyond even the expected levels of corruption in this part of the world. Blood pumping, fists clenched, and voices barely controlling our pissed off frustrations, we thought it best to avoid another such instance. The next one might very well have broken our precariously controlled temper, and ended up with one or both of us rotting in a Cambodian prison!!

irony.

Getting around in Cambodia serves as a constant reminder that the journey is at least half of the adventure. In hindsight, all these experiences also provide another lesson for me: realizing again that my expectations so often serve only as a roadblock, leaving me blocked into a place of annoyance and frustration, while barricading me from moving into a place where I could simply relish in the pure experience of it all. Whatever doesn't kill me.............. right? :)

Well, now that you've made it to the end, it's time for another rousing game of NAME THAT FRUIT! The winner from my last blog was Shona Simon, who correctly identified the hairy red & green fruits as: Rambutan. They're similar to - but not to be confused with! - lychees, and they're quite delicious. This week I'm upping the challenge, and including two exotic Asian fruits. Can you name both of them?

a taste of phnom penh

8:30am: i wake up...slowly. too much movement only worsens the film of sweat that has accumulated since the sun began to make it's presence known. stumbling on to my half asleep limbs, the very first order of business is opening the balcony and the back doors of our apartment, in order to take advantage of any possible breeze that might waft through. these days it's not uncommon for it to be over 90 degrees before 9am, with humidity levels above 70%. fast forward to 1pm, and well... yeah. (oh rainy season, where art thou???)

eventually hunger takes over the desire to do nothing, and breakfast is approached. everyday it's the same deliciously simple combination of fruit, muesli, and yogurt. with combinations of up to five different fruits at a time perched in our fridge and awaiting my morning taste buds, this is a meal to look forward to. did i mention it's mango season? and with a ridiculous price tag of 3/dollar, those sweet receptacles of heavenly nectar are never absent from my breakfast bowl.

hey! speaking of fruit, how about a game? i'll post a picture of a fruit (or vegetable) not commonly found in the west. the top prize, (my unending admiration and respect), will be awarded to the reader that can correctly identify it first. we'll start out with a relatively easy one:

name that fruit!

after breakfast, any number of activities begin to fill my day, one of which will typically be a small trip to the outdoor market that sits a 1/2 block away...

(the blue arrow is roughly where our apartment is located)

this incredibly lively smattering of stalls, sellers, smells, and smiles is cambodia's version of walmart, with just about everything one could possibly need, for sale under 'one' roof.  it's our local one-stop-shop for:

• fruit/veg (ie: a heaping bag of tomatoes, zucchini, carrot, limes, cilantro, & pineapple... for $3)
• every kind of household item (ie: a box full of new kitchenware, for $5)
• rejuvenating ice coffees (50 cents)
• fresh free range eggs (10/dollar)

...in addition to a random list of who-knows-what-else, that might make it onto our list for the day. unlike other parts of the world, where having to shop for food so often becomes a mundane 'chore'... here, this routine activity remains an unpredictable adventure to look forward to. at the very least, it never fails to be a poignant reminder of exactly where i am... and where i'm not.

delving full force into this local market requires no small amount of resolve. the smells attack and overwhelm. mystery items commonly end up in my shopping bag. the piles of freshly caught, wriggling river fish are not unknown to wriggle themselves right off their trays and onto your feet. flies swarm wherever heaping slabs of meat or the sweet juices of produce abound. stares sometimes follow me. beggars with gray hair or pig-tailed hair often approach me. and the corrugated tin sheets that roof the maze of lanes underneath act as a highly effective heat trap, raising the already sweltering temperatures to almost unbearable heights.

i absolutely love it.

Paired Phi Phi's, and Asia-virgin eyes...

An interesting thing happens when I'm trying to tell myself to write about things that happened nearly two months ago instead of the ever-fascinating array of moments that are happening in the now... I feel a bit uninspired. For the past two weeks, since starting this blog, I find myself pulling out my ol' trusty journal and filling page after page trying to record the vast layers of colorful experiences that I have partaken in throughout Vietnam, and now into Cambodia. Yet, I struggle to churn out a few paragraphs that would contribute to the continuation of the Thailand story that I began here. Not because there is any inherent degree of 'less amazing' to attribute to those travels, but simply because they are of the past, and what's bouncing around in my head NOW is the incredibly contrasting sights of Phnom Penh, my first introduction to Khmer food, aimless wanders through this city that have uncovered a wealth of treats, and my visit today to the haunting rooms of the most notorious Khmer Rouge prison, S-21.

So, as it seems my eagerness to catch up to the present outweighs my desire to fully detail the past ... here's an attempt to summarize travels that no doubt deserve more attention than I currently feel like doling out:

•  Scuba diving is as powerfully amazing as I've always heard it described. Also, slightly nerve wracking at times... like when, say, you have been harboring a substantial conviction that a shark is going to eat you someday, and on your very first dive ever you are blessed with spotting not one, but two, swimming around and about you.
• The vibe of Koh Phi Phi Don, with all of it's temporary Thailand holiday partiers, is not really my bag.
• Yet, the Phi Phi islander's stories of Tsunami survival, (including one local whose life was saved when he was pulled from underneath collapsed wreckage--thanks to Buddha--and who then went on to open a supremely welcoming restaurant heavy with local patronage and serving up the best damn Thai Chili Paste Stir-Fry on this planet), are distinctly humbling.
• An overnight camping trip to 'The Beach' (yes, that one), on Koh Phi Phi Ley is beyond magical, offering up memories I will always cherish.

...This island is uninhabited save for the national park workers that look after it, but every morning and afternoon 100's of beach (Beach?) enthusiasts make day trips out there to stake out a small patch of sand amidst the teeming crowds. No doubt the draw of this island's raw beauty is enticing, but the circus of followers would put me off of it in a heartbeat, were it not for the surprisingly unsought out option of an overnight trip there. Less than 40 souls skipped about the expanse of this island's sparkling surfaces for the 15+ hours that I spent there, lending it exactly the kind of deserted feel that I wanted it to have.

•  Railay beach is divinely chill, displaying more dreadlocks, rasta beach bars, hippie inspired designs, and artistically infused decor-creations, than anywhere else I saw in Thailand. An unfortunate time crunch allowing for only one night there, left me wanting so much more. 

A pause in the bullet-pointing is necessary, as I must explain that from Railay beach Dave and I journeyed up to Bangkok in order to pick up his admirably adventurous, and absolutely lovely, parents from Suvarnabhumi Airport. Now, maybe in some circles it would be considered rather odd that after only a handful of months dating Dave and I were enthusiastically jumping into a two week, non-stop, meet-the-parents extravaganza. But, when you consider that after only a day of knowing each other we embarked on a week and a half long trek through Mongolian countryside together, and with less than two weeks of existence in each others worlds we set off on a course through China that ended with him on my doorstep in Seoul, effectively moving in for the better part of a month... well, it's not so odd then.

Tony and Shona Simon are, self-admittedly, not of the seasoned traveler variety. Yet as their son began eking out an unknown route through unknown lands month after month, inspiration struck and travel plans began emerging. From the moment my path found itself suddenly intertwined with theirs, as we exchanged flurried hellos amidst airport tile traffic, I could sense their eager bravado, absolutely endearing them to me immediately. As we began navigating the streets of Bangkok together, I quickly discovered much more to love about their presence. See, there's a certain amount of travel awe-luster I manage to lose sight of at times, after traipsing through more and more cultural landscapes that are so different to my own. My first day in Asia? Unabashedly awestruck. After almost 3 years in Asia? Decidedly less so. Yet the surroundings are no less deserving of awe. The Asia-virgin eyes that paralleled my gaze for the next two weeks reminded me in the most welcoming of ways, just how rich in sensations this part of the world can be.

 Right! Focus, Laura. This blog is meant to engulf the rest of my time in Thailand, and I'm still only 2 out of 6 weeks in. So, back to my increasingly failing attempts at brevity...

I made it!

Within 24 hours, the fearless foursome quickly jumped aboard an overnight train to a place called Chiang Mai in the Northern reaches of Thailand's jungles. Chiang Mai is: 1. Bigger than I expected. 2. Even more of a tourist hot-pot than I expected, (I knew it was of course a popular destination... but wowzers.) 3. Home to some seriously delicious restaurants. 4. The perfect place to wander in any random direction and unknowingly happen upon serenely picturesque temples, complete with the sun colored robes of monks scampering about. 5. A fantastic place to partake in a cooking class, which left Dave's mom and I with a veritable wealth of knowledge to call upon when trying to recreate the mouth-watering flavors of the Thai Kingdom...and, 6. The location of a somewhat poor decision regarding our travel activities.

Hmmm. Kinda tired now. Alas, for more on week 3-6's adventures and misadventures in Thailand, I guess I'm just going to have to write another blog. Damn. Except, not really, cause once I got going I realized I rather enjoyed pulling out those too-quickly-fading memories and making them live and dance before me again.

A beginning, of sorts...

This website right here, this is "Laura's First Travel Blog". This picture, is me.

Hi   :)

Though I've constantly kept a travel journal with me over the past few years, and managed to fill up several books with my 'thoughts while on the road', blogging is quite a foreign concept to me. Similar to those journal writings, those of you who know me well have probably received a lengthy email or two throughout the years, as I attempt to detail and sum up all of my recent experiences while traveling in foreign lands, in order to stay connected to you. In some ways, this blog might be a combination of those two things... a way to write about my personal thoughts and experiences in a way that allows the people in my life to tune in, whenever they feel like it. Should anyone else ever tune in, well hopefully I can keep them entertained as well.

My greatest fear in writing a blog is to be misconstrued, or to come off as sounding far too self-important. For that reason, there are a few things that must be said before anything else is said. Disclaimers, I suppose.

No matter what I write in this blog; no matter how I feel about a place, an experience, an interaction, a culture, or a meal; no matter how strongly I feel that way, I am never presuming to try and tell anyone what something IS. Subjectivity will reign supreme throughout, and behind every one of my statements is the unwavering knowledge that the opposite statement can be equally true and equally valid... in another person's blog perhaps. Not only is everything I experience being filtered through my own perspectives and beliefs, (even when I'm trying hard to quiet those), but I'm also fully aware that for every experience of mine that left a certain impression, there are uncountable other people who have came away with an entirely different impression. Different days, different moods, different interactions, different weather, and a hundred other variables... all these things color our intake of every situation. These are my intakes. 

Also, I travel in a particular manner. I prefer some kinds of experiences over others. I often gain greater fulfillment from more challenging, authentic, off-the-beaten track routes, while I am often left wanting, and uninspired by typical, touristy places and activities. Tour groups and tour packages are almost never my friends.This is not to say that those kinds of travel don't have their place in the world, it is simply to say that they do not have a place in my heart. My own finances dictate a large part of my travel style, but it goes beyond that as well.

For example: I sometimes prefer to stay in cheap backpacker digs, instead of opting for more comfortable and convenient hotels, even when the price is only a small difference. YET, the dichotomy of my psyche is that that does not mean I don't enjoy hotels. Quite the opposite actually! Of course it's cozy to have a looked after, spacious room, a bed that's made every day, a/c in hot climates, hot water in cold climates, privacy, and perhaps a bit of insulation from the sometimes chaotic environments I find myself in. I've stayed in those places, and by no means did I just tolerate it... I quite LIKED it. However, I've noticed a price that is paid beyond the room rate. When I have a cozy hotel room, I am less likely to spend most of my time away from it (cause it's just so nice in there isn't it?), but when my room is a simple bed within four walls, I am far more likely to only sleep in it (there's always somewhere more interesting to be than a dingy, simplistic, or borderline uncomfortable, room).

On top of that, there's the matter of the people one meets. In the budget, backpacker guesthouse I am far more likely to meet independent travelers who can offer tips, stories, and information about independent traveling. In pricier hotels, I am more likely to meet travelers who book tour packages, and will recommend agencies, guides, and drivers who will 'take care of all of the organizing', whilst many times allowing me only glimpses of the most common, pre-approved, 'sights'. Each to their own. Even though it sometimes goes against my very natural desires for comfort and ease, I choose to inconvenience myself and hope for the reward that that can bring. Many times I pay the price for that choice too, and only end up frustrating myself, achieving none of the 'pay-off' that I hoped for when I chose the more difficult route. Choices have to be made though, consequences weighed out... and more often than not, I'll choose to take my chances on the cheaper, more challenging options.


Allow me yet one more disclaimer. Though I have just rhapsodized about how I fancy myself an independent traveler, seeking 'off the beaten path' opportunities, that is NOT to say that I am by any means a gold-star member of that club. I am constantly aware of (and sorta jealous of) the plethora of travelers out there, who could easily run circles around my travel experiences. In a world that is becoming more accessible by the minute, finding untraveled areas is practically impossible, and it is not my be-all/end-all intention to be the only traveler in every destination. I just want to travel everywhere and experience everything I can! If that means covering the 'tourist trail' at times, (which has become popular for a reason), I have no shame about doing that. And, damnit, the Lonely Planet is helpful to me. Perhaps I many times end up traveling the more beaten, off the beaten, path. I'm very aware of, and perfectly okay with that.

Alright folks, I think I'm done trying to explain myself, and ready to begin explaining my travels instead. With an entire, lengthy, posting about my intentions and my hopes for how my words will be read... I must now leave the rest of your perceptions up to yourself and simply write what I want to write. In the words of Anthony Burgess, "Eat this sweetish segment or spit it out. You are free."