Happee Monkee

I love traveling. If it was a sport, I would be a Arnold Scha-whats-his-name. If it was a dish, I would get fat eating it. If it was a song, my throat would be sore singing it. Yes, I love to travel. But more than seeing different countries, smelling different degrees of air and getting on an airplane, it’s my passion to learn about a culture. I dig culture. It’s what connects me with the place. A country is a country is a country until I connect with a person. And then, it starts to have a face, a voice, a personality, a dream, a life. I get high on the stuff.

Cambodians, I find, are incredibly poor. Like most third-world countries, it’s corrupted, it’s over-populated, sprawling with street children and prostitutes. Yet, I walked down the streets and back alleys of this bustling dusty city, and didn’t feel an ounce of *danger.

The people were warm, friendly and quite helpful. Naturally, I got ripped off the first day I was there but I tend to let it go just so I can familiarize myself with the market price. No point beating my self up on Day 1. (Besides, if I’m trying to figure out the art of happiness, this is something not worth frowning about).

I made a point not to go to the Killing Fields because it would make me really sad. It gets me down. It’s a personal choice so I’m not saying don’t. I tend to avoid places with tragic pasts because I feel that there’s still a part of suffering attached to that place. And with my psycho-hyper imagination (and spidey senses) it doesn’t do me too good.

I had an amazing time meeting new people (like Gabby, who no one would believe us when we said we had just met a day before). I went on a scooter ride around the city with a local and watch football at the national stadium. I chatted with my waiter for a whole hour about life in Phnom Penh and his dreams to go far in life (of which I wished him the very very best). I climbed the magnanimous ancient steps of Angkor Wat and met other tourists and backpackers.

It was a glorious, glorious journey – within and external. Bless budget airlines. A quote I must share you: “A journey is best measured in friends, rather than miles.” – Tim Cahill. To me, that speaks right through the heart.

(*Note: I’ve got spider senses. Seriously. I feel danger and it tingles. I’ve developed this innate, uncanny ability having lived in Kuala Lumpur where life can be difficult and threatening.)

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