Fourth Week in Phnom Penh + Koh Rong Samloem
Another week, another adventurous dietary excursion! I feel like in every blog post I wind up writing about some new, outrageous Cambodian delicacy I’ve tried, so I’m just going to cut to the chase: tarantulas. Oddly enough, I had very little trouble eating several whole, lightly fried spiders, especially once they were dipped in a lime-pepper sauce. Jean and I had seen them on the menu of a restaurant near ODC and had decided on a whim to be brave for lunch. I wish I could say the texture was unsettling or that they tasted vile. Honestly, however, they tasted like any other savory, fried snack you might have by the TV at home. Just good.
I have settled into work, spending most of my days researching Cambodian legal regulations. I continue to have problems finding recent primary sources on the legal aid situation in Cambodia, which is not terribly surprising. This year, Cambodia was ranked as having the least accessible civil justice system in Asia by the World Justice Project, sitting behind Myanmar and Pakistan. A lot of the NGOs that provide legal aid are suffering from “donor fatigue,” with donors moving their funds to newer, shinier projects in the past few years. As such, I have decided that, with the vacuum of recent data, I will reach out to legal aid providers directly to learn about their practices and capabilities. This feels like a pretty daunting task and I still have a lot of questions about how to proceed but, ultimately, I am game.
My summer is front-loaded with weekend trips because, currently, Cambodia is resting on the precipice of rainy season. On the one hand, this is great. Instead of being unbearably hot outside, it is just… very hot. On the other hand, I pretty much take the precaution of a rain jacket with me everywhere. For the same reason, I am trying to get my weekend trips done sooner rather than later. Shockingly, I would prefer to not be stranded in the provinces, unable to get home to Phnom Penh because the roads are flooded. Hence, this weekend, I went to the beach.
Pretty much everyone Jean and I consulted emphatically recommended we visit a tiny island off the coast of Sihanoukville called Koh Rong Samloem. Sihanoukville is a tourist destination in its own right, with several long stretches of beach. However, in the past few years, the beachside city has been developed considerably, now a hotspot of Chinese casinos. Koh Rong Samloem, just a forty-five-minute ferry ride away, is still relatively untouched and tranquil. The overwhelming consensus of advice was, “If you take the time to go to Sihanoukville, do yourself a favor and take the extra step to get to Koh Rong Samloem.” Sounded pretty good to me.
Jean and I took a six-hour bus to Sihanoukville on Friday morning. Upon arrival, we found a ferry leaving shortly for Samloem. While we spent only a few hours total in Sihanoukville, everyone’s description seemed accurate; the city was crowded, touristy, and the main beach had a serious trash problem. That said, I believe some of the other beaches are quite pleasant (Otres, for instance), though we did not have time to see them. Regardless, I was pretty happy we had committed to visiting the islands.
Koh Rong Samloem is the sleepy sister island to Koh Rong, an equally beautiful island that boasts a vibrant nightlife. However, Jean and I had opted for the more serene beaches of Samloem, which are practically devoid of tourists during the low-season. When our ferry arrived at Samloem, we had a stunning view of Saracen beach, the most “developed” stretch of white sand on the island. Quaint island resorts dotted the beachline, bungalows facing out into the bay, each with their own unique mood and mien. Every so often, café seating would creep up to the water, a few lazy beachgoers enjoying their meal with their feet in the sand. For the most part, the water was crystal clear, calm, and, as I would discover later, comfortably warm. Several fishing boats rested along the shore too, accenting my already perfectly composed photographs. I found it somewhat difficult to put my camera down, my jaw permanently dropped for our entire walk along Saracen.
We finally made our way to our “resort.” Jean and I had opted for affordable accommodations, our bungalow austere, cramped, but clean. We dropped our bags and tried to take advantage of the fading daylight, grabbing dinner and walking the beach. Perhaps the most accurate impression of Koh Rong Samloem is synopsized in a conversation we had with a local Khmer waiter that evening. After chatting with him about the island and our plans, he asked how long we were staying. We answered, “Just until Sunday morning.” He then smiled and sheepishly replied, “And what day is today?”
The next morning, Jean and I awoke early with a mission to see the island's best beach. Our friend Alex from ODC had recommended we visit Clearwater Bay, perhaps the most secluded location on Koh Rong Samloem. Having spoken so highly of the beach, which boasted only one tiny hostel along its shores, Alex’s recommendation carried some weight. In fact, the beach was so remote that heavy rains had stranded him there for an extra night when he visited. With some unease (maybe only on my part), we endeavored to avoid that fate. Enlisting a local fisherman willing to ferry us on his creaky wooden boat, we managed to find ourselves on the way to Clearwater Bay before nine am.
Arriving at the bay was unbelievable. Just when I thought Saracen Beach could not be outdone, I was handily proven wrong. Alex’s recommendation had been spot-on, the beach absolutely deserted, save for the smattering of small fishing boats out in the bay. Aptly named, Clearwater Bay had incredibly clear water that was completely still, causing the whole beach to be eerily quiet. When walking along the uninhabited shoreline, Jean and I could not help but whisper to each other, the sound of our voices deafening in the natural silence.
We spent an hour or so in peaceful quietude, swimming and floating in the warm waters, enjoying our effectively private beach. In all my life, I had never experienced anything like it, and I was lost for sufficient words to express my awe. While I had maybe seen equally beautiful beaches in the Caribbean, they had been developed and become host to mega-resorts. Gloomily, I faintly wondered how long until Clearwater Bay would become over developed too, as I’m sure it eventually will. My reverie was cut short after not too long, dark clouds beginning to gather overhead. Before we knew it, we were caught on the beach in the pouring rain.
Running to the tree line, we found the one hostel on the beach, Driftwood Hostel, tucked deep into the forest in an elaborate, makeshift treehouse, practically invisible from the water. Hiding in the hostel common area, I was beginning to sweat, nervous about being stranded away from the comparative comforts of Saracen for the night. Jean, however, was unconcerned, waiting coolly for the rain to pass with blasé indifference to the prospect of being stuck. Much to my chagrin, the rain continued.
Deciding to test our odds, we opted to walk in the pouring rain back to the Clearwater's pier, along the beach, and ask our fisherman if he could return us to Saracen. Within seconds of stepping out of the treehouse, I was soaked to the bone. At first, it was jarring, but eventually we just laughed. There was something so surreally funny about us meandering along this paradise beach in the rain, our hair plastered to our faces, phones carefully swaddled in a plastic grocery bag. As it turned out, I had nothing to worry about. Walking along the pier to our boat like a pair of drowned rats, our fisherman smiled broadly at us, wordlessly collecting the ten or so fist-sized fish he had caught while awaiting our return. Then, before we knew it, we were boating back to Saracen in the rain, saying goodbye to Clearwater.
Arriving back, Jean and I still had more missions for our Saturday. We wanted to see another beach, Lazy Beach, which was also highly recommended by some friends. Additionally, Lazy Beach was purported to have the best lunch spot on Koh Rong Samloem (a fine motivator). Unfortunately, it was still raining and every other tourist was, perhaps wisely, tucked into a restaurant or huddled on the covered porch of their bungalow. While my fingers were painfully pruned and I too desperately wanted to dry off, that luxury would have to wait. Jean and I decided that we would make for Lazy beach and remain in our drenched state, regardless of the inclement weather. As a pair of waterlogged prunes, we regrouped and I bought a waterproof sleeve for my phone. Then without further ado, we headed into the jungle.
Lazy Beach is on the opposite side of the island from Saracen, a roughly twenty-five-minute journey through dense forest. In the afternoon rain, the path was dark, muddy, and slick. Because we kept getting off trail, the trek took considerably longer than expected, forcing us to retrace our steps twice. That said, it was surreally beautiful, with thick vines roping around trees, draping over our heads into a dense canopy. In the distance, we could hear monkeys chattering and frogs leapt along the path. By the end of the walk, our trail had become a tiny creek, flowing with us as we trekked. With a tremendous sigh of relief (and some serious stomach growling) the path opened up to Lazy Beach.
At this point, I was sopping wet, covered in mud, and just generally a mess. As a result, I felt ridiculous walking into the trendy, well-decorated Lazy Beach Resort Restaurant. That said, the staff was incredibly friendly and appreciative of our journey. Jean and I sat down on their leather seats, grimacing as we spread sand all over their nice hardwood floors, and ordered burgers. Overall, the meal was great and the forest walk was completely worth it. Plus, we got to see the Lazy Beach, which contrasted sharply with Saracen due to its strong tides and steep, jungle hills (very Jurassic Park).
After lunch, we headed back to Saracen, eager to dry off. Once we returned to “civilization,” we organized our last big mission for the day: glowing plankton. Koh Rong Samloen is one of those rare places on earth where you can see glowing plankton at night, which, frankly, I scant believed existed outside of James Cameron’s Avatar. Since we had figuratively punched our rain card, the skies were thankfully clear for the rest of our evening. That meant our nighttime snorkel trip was good to go.
Once darkness fell, Jean, myself, and one other tourist took a boat out to a removed section of Saracen bay, far from any resort lights. On the way there, our guide pointed out a faint shimmer in the wake of the boat, easily mistakable as the reflection of light on the water. Soon enough, our boat stopped and we were each handed some snorkel gear. Much to my relief, we were assured that there were no rocks, corals, jellyfish, big fish, etc., hiding within the inky black lagoon.
Seeing the glowing plankton was one of the most beautiful travel experiences of my life. Easily in the top five, if not top three. Unfortunately, it simply cannot be photographed (and hardly described for that matter). In fact, when writing this blog, I even checked online to find a video on YouTube. Unfortunately, this aspect of Koh Rong Samloem can only be experienced first-hand. In many ways, this made the glowing plankton even more extraordinary, one of my only travel memories not ruthlessly documented with photos.
From above the water, the plankton was hardly visible. However, ducking under the surface provided an entirely new perspective. Every movement under the water caused my skin to be illuminated with hundreds of pinpricks of light, like fairy lights, which swirled along the current and between my fingertips. Then, after a moment, the lights would disappear, fading into the pitch blackness, reactivated again with motion. As I kicked through the water, my feet produced billows of light, glittering like fireflies that filled my vision. After thirty or so minutes of this marvel, I was the first to reluctantly get back on the boat, exhausted from treading water for so long. I took a moment to see the glowing plankton “activated” by Jean and our other tour guest, who were still in the water. While fainter than the glittering lights visible below surface, I could still see a faint mist of light clinging to their arms, like draped silk sleeves, radiating into the dark. It was a very “Disney Princess” experience, as Jean pointed out, and I could not agree more.
We wrapped up our final night on the island with another round of burgers, sitting out by the water and watching the smattering of off-season tourists walk along the beach. After our incredibly productive day, and perhaps still reeling from our swim, we retired to sleep early. In the morning, we walked back to the ferry pier, had a final breakfast, and began the long journey back to Phnom Penh.
After such an idyllic weekend, returning to the mundanity of work was a little challenging. However, I am lucky that ODC provides such interesting, varied tasks. While my ongoing background project has been to build the Legal Aid topic page for the ODC website, this week I had a few smaller, impromptu projects. One of them was researching Cambodian cybersecurity concerns for a grant proposal. Another smaller project was writing a brief internal report on a recently-released Prakas (a Cambodian ministerial proclamation) disallowing the spread of online information that would harm Cambodia. I feel pretty fortunate that I get to research so many diverse topics in one week. In the end, I am really happy with ODC and never dread Monday mornings.
Not to mention, ODC has a great work environment that is so fun and lively. We do so many unique, fun things together in the evenings; my coworkers feel more like friends than anything else. Just on Monday we went out for hot pot soup after work. On Wednesday, a few of us got massages. On Tuesday, pizza was ordered into the office. When I looked at the pizza, the color must have drained from my face because everyone laughed. The crust of the pizza was like a continuous hot dog circle. On the actual pizza, there was pineapple, mushrooms, ham, hunks of tomato, and shrimp balls. When my friends asked me if the pizza was like American pizza, I shrugged and simply borrowed a popular Cambodian phrase: “Same, same. But different.”
This weekend, a group of us are going to Siem Reap, the other most populous city in Cambodia and home to Angkor Wat. Seeing Angkor Wat has been a dream of mine since I was a child, so I am very excited. That said, a thorough tour of the temple complex requires several days at least. Since we will be visiting for a mere day and a half, suffice to say we are only going to catch the highlights. But I am not terribly worried. When my parents come to visit Cambodia after my internship ends, we are planning on staying in Siem Reap for much longer. I look forward to posting photos of the sunrise over Angkor Wat, which I am sure will be incredible.