Tuk-Tuk or Taxi?

“Should we take a tuk-tuk or a taxi?” Daniel’s earnest question stymied me. His face was beaming with anticipation to have finally landed in Cambodia. He was honestly happy to take either mode of transport to our guesthouse. But, what did he mean...“tuk-tuk?” Not only do I have a penchant for taxis, as was clear from the roast at our wedding, I usually choose the most seemingly secure option at all possible decision points. Maybe it was the honeymoon adrenalin or massive chartreuse backpack with a little yellow amaryllis on one of the buckles that inspired me...I’ll never be sure, but I went for it. We took my first tuk-tuk ride to our guesthouse.

The ride was exhilarating. I think I may have been squealing. Alright, I was squealing. The gasoline, wind, dust, pollution, incense, rubber, and sun were all competing to touch my face first as we whisked along. A tuk-tuk itself is not terribly complicated, but I had never seen such a clever idea executed en mass as on the streets of Phnom Penh. A tuk-tuk is a covered two-wheeled wood and metal wagon attached to a motorcycle. The hitch attaching the wagon section to the motorcycle is metal and then screwed on by a bolt to the back of the adapted motorcycle. Usually a driver will place a small piece of plastic—the top of a bleach or water bottle—between the hitch and the bolt to “secure it” in place. Tuk-tuks live in a world of only Plan A. This plastic bottle shard, bolt, and metal adapter is the plan. There is no need for Plan B since Plan A is working.

The mindset of making Plan B after Plan A does not pan out, is far from how I live my life in bucolic Cambridge. No, I have four insurances: two medical, one renters, and one life policy. The driver saw my hesitation as I mounted the wagon and I motioned “why not?” with my shoulders and eyebrows. His laugh and assuring nod constituted my fifth form of insurance.

As we zoomed past open air markets and stopped at traffic lights next to families of five on one motorcycle, I searched for anything familiar from my experiences in Latin America. It was not until about the fourth day in Cambodia that I realized what I was missing from Latin America—the sensuality, openness, and unfettered boldness of Brazil, Argentina, Dominican Republic, and Mexico. In most every setting I have visited in Latin America, everyone lives with such vim and vigor for life. They dance with zeal and frilly skirts in the streets, stand tall and ready to meet you, and smile at every opportunity. I was looking for similar characteristics in the Cambodian people, until I realized that I was not going to find it and I should rather look for unique dissimilarities from my Latin American base. Cambodians seemed reticent, docile, and seemingly accepting of their station in life. After visiting one of the famous prisons during the Khmer Rouge regime, I began to understand the atrocities that the Cambodians experienced as a people and saw their nature with more clarity.

I had seen filth in the streets and poverty throughout Honduras and Guatemala, but was surprised with the severity of both the three feet high piles of trash and extreme poverty at each turn in Phnom Penh. I could not help but think about a recent flyer I had received upon leaving Cambridge notifying us that there would be a neighborhood meeting to discuss what to do about the dead tree at the end of our block. Distance brings clarity and this was no different. The “problems” of Cambridge felt very far removed as I dodged dust and burning trash.

Cambodian food was a delight. We kept scouring for soy sauce on tables and asked waitstaff continuously if there was soy sauce used in dishes served to me...but there was none to be found. Hallelujah! We took a cooking class where I learned how to make curry from beginning to end, by grinding fresh ingredients into a paste with a wooden mortar and pestle. The yellowish hue on my fingers is a constant reminder that I need to find turmeric root in Cambridge. Wish me luck. I watched the pros roll fresh rice paper spring rolls until they looked factory-made. I watched morning glory leaf and galangal chopped with perfect precision. I have ordered fresh spring rolls at every juncture and still cannot decide which roll was best.

Dan's addition:

I am LOVING being back in Southeast Asia, and, as you can see, experiencing things anew through Julia’s eyes. Phnom Penh was fine, but Siem Reap, Ankor Wat, and the nearby temples were amazing and totally lived up to the hype. It felt a bit inappropriate to be scrambling over such ancient structures—there’s no way that's sustainable with the volume of visitors they’re seeing. If you've been thinking of going, don’t put it off, because they’re going to have to close down more parts of it before too long. If you do go, we highly recommend staying at Green Park Village Guest House. It’s a bit outside the downtown area, but it’s quiet, has high levels of service, delicious breakfast, and free tuk-tuk rides to and from town and the airport, all for $15 per night. Hard to beat.