It has been four days since I set foot in Cambodia again. Third visit to this country, and my return has been a bag of mixed feelings I'm not 100% sure I could ever explain to someone else. My coworkers decided that they wanted to travel with me, which I was hesitant but okay about. History has not been on my side when it comes to me traveling with others, and though I have always longed for it, I usually end up getting into arguments, or just bored, with the person I travel with. Thus far, I have not argued, but tonight I began to feel the strain of being with other people.
They were deciding if they wanted ice cream, then what type they wanted. No big deal, and they took a reasonable amount of time to decide really- about 2-3 minutes. Yet I could feel my irritation level rising, my frustration at having to wait as they decided over every little option growing, and my need for some alone time pressing in. I parted ways shortly after, going to the gelato store on my own for a few minutes of quiet thinking time. It's been a long day, and I needed space.
I love Cambodia, desperately, and wish more than most know that I could live here for a long time and help this country continue to climb back on it's feet after decades worth of destruction and damage. My desire to return used to be so strong, that I would be walking in Seoul and have vivid flashbacks to my first trip- something would set off a memory that sent me sky rocketing back, leaving me seeing not a city-scape before me, but a country side with a wood fire burning, little kids playing, a field of dull golden yellow grass and random palm trees swaying in the breeze. I had fallen in love.
Yet now that I am back, I have found it changed.
There are more tourists- lots more. Especially Chinese, Korean, and Japanese. It is the Chinese that I dislike the most, cluttering up the pathways with their large groups, disturbing the peace with their spitting, and virtually threatening the existence of the ancient temples here by touching them. The once quiet temples are busier, the formerly peaceful floating villages now littered with a constant stream of boats showing tourists around, and the quaint little restaurants by the river replaced by large and standardized restaurants from America and Korea.
While I am happy that Cambodia is growing and being paid attention to by people who seek to improve the living conditions of the local people through worthwhile programs- I miss the Cambodia I feel in love with. The quiet one, hidden away, secret, that no one wanted to visit, or even knew about. Then again, that was why I went in the first place. When everyone I knew was flying away to Thailand for winter break my first year in Korea, I purposefully choose Cambodia /BECAUSE/ no one was going there. It's discovery was bound to happen eventually, and truthfully it was on that road already when I came. I guess I just didn't realize how much things could change in three years, and it's been hard for me to adjust.
During my slow walk back to my hostel, I allowed myself to take in the city of Siem Reap. The neon lights on the pedestrian bridge reflect in the small river below, and tuk tuk drivers honk lightly as they drive around the round-about. Looking at the road in a state of slight disrepair, the dog limping by with a severely injured paw almost making me cry, and the child playing nearby who calls out "goodbye" to me, I realize that I still love Cambodia, and I don't love China.
It didn't hit me like a brick wall, or rock my world, as you might think.
The realization came to me quietly, the way a sunflower unfolds quietly when the sun first touches it with it's early morning rays, the truth hidden like a grain of sand within. The fact is, the way I feel had been there all along, and I didn't know it till now. Or maybe I couldn't admit it till now.
Cambodia is broken. It is corrupt, uses people, hurts each other, and wears the scars and injuries of it's past plainly for any tourist who isn't too too drunk or oblivious to see it. If you know where to look, no number of fancy stores/restaurants hides the reality here.
Yet they try. In any way they know how, they try. Cambodians are doing everything they can to make the world they have available to them better, or to survive in it at least. Maybe the people don't have much, and the government doesn't work like it's supposed to, and they are poor- but every year the people work a little more towards what they hope will be a better Cambodia. You can see it in their eyes. You can see it in their smiles- the ones that appear on their face, almost breaking it wide open with joy, love, and kindness, making you want to smile back, and spreading out rays of hope to those who look at them.
China, I feel, does not try. The people know that their government is broken, yet claim every day that they can do nothing to fix it. Students complain about the bribery, back door dealings, and the completely unbalanced education system that places all it's emphasis on the college entrance exam and then finals in college. Yet they will turn around and engage in these same activities, feeding the system should they need to as well. So many students sit back and simple shrug their shoulders, feigning helplessness. The former beauty, glory, and history of China is diminishing each year, as the country paves its way forward by demolishing everything in sight in order to /LOOK/ like they are progressing. Always, the most important thing, is saving face, no matter the cost.
It is this that I cannot stand.
It is this understanding that has helped me to realize, I love Cambodia, and do not love China.
With a heavy heart, reflective mind, and hopeful heart that tomorrow will be better,
Rita
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