I reached Phnom Penh at about 2.30pm. Cambodia is one hour behind Singapore. I met this old Singaporean man at the airport while I was searching for tourist information. He said that was his first time in Cambodia and asked me how to get to the city. He further asked me where he could get a hotel to stay, what places could he visit and where to find girls. He even asked me how much would the girls charge for a night. I wander. Do I look like a GSO?
I told him I have booked a hotel through the Internet and if he likes, he could come and stay in the same hotel. He paid for me a SIM card at the airport. He said he doesn’t need the SIM card as he cannot read English and does not know how to use the Internet. I walked him to the bus stop.
While we were waiting for the bus, 5 young people approached me and asked how could they get to the city. I wander. Do I look like a tourist guide? These 20+ Chinese young people are working in Singapore and came to Cambodia for holiday during the weekend. I asked all of them to take the public bus 3 with me to the market centre. On the bus, we realised that it was the first day of the New Year in Cambodia and the public buses are free for all. We saved 53 cents each.
The old man decided not to stay in the same hotel with me because I was staying with 9 other foreigners in a room and he couldn’t bring girls into the room. He stayed in a hotel not far from mine and paid S$45 a night. Well, I paid S$8 a night for a bed in a dormitory with a swimming outside of the room.
Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum
While we were waiting for the Tuk Tuk to take us to the killing fields, one of the guests was reported dead by his roommate. When they carried his body down from the second floor, his face was pale and his body looked frozen. Both of his hands and mouth were open. I got the feeling that he was choked to death.
It was a sad day to see someone died in the morning and later visited the sites where more than a million people were killed and buried. We also visited the old prison and saw pictures of people being tortured.
Because I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves – And Immortality………… Emily Dickinson (1830 – 1886).
