Fear & Loathing in Cambodia
For many reasons, Pailin does not have a great reputation for tourism among Cambodians or foreigners. Through the troubled 1980s and early 1990s, it was a fiercely contested region, alternately under the control of government and Khmer Rouge forces. Pailin was a major base for Khmer Rouge fighters who terrorised Battambang province until a deal in 1996 granted limited autonomy to the Ieng Sary / Ee Chhean Khmer Rouge of Pailin in exchange for peace.
Several foreigners had stumbled across into the region from the Thai side only to be met with prompt execution.
Taking all of this into account, it was not really surprising that my Cambodian wife was a little concerned when I announced that I was off to Pailin to write a travel piece.
But these are the good Khmer Rouge,” I tried to explain. “Not like the Anlong Veng or Samlot KR at all. They haven’t razed a village, conscripted locals by force of killed a foreigner in ... well ... a couple of
years.”
My own assurances of safety were beginning to sound less and less convincing so it was time for some divine advice. Off to the Pagoda.
At the Pagoda, we sat down with the head monk who studied me intently as I explained that I was off on a mission to Pailin but my wife was concerned about my safety. He continued to stare into my eyes for another minute before he spoke.
“Do you love your wife?”
“Well, yes,” I replied, wondering where his line of questioning was leading.
“Do you love your son?”
“Of course.”
“Are you going to disappear over the border into Thailand never to be seen again?”
“No!” I exclaimed.
“He’ll be fine, no problems.” Said the monk to my wife.
The old monk rubbed some lanoline into my forehead and my hair, chanted some kind of blessing and told me to get a haircut. Step one complete.
With the green light from the monks, I headed for Central Market after a brief detour to the closest barber.
Lobbing up at 10.00am for a taxi to Battambang is not a good idea. Most of the cars are gone by 9.00. I was ushered from one Nissan pick-up to the next, but having travelled that hellish 8 hour stretch before, there was no way that I was going to be bounced around in the heat, dust and probably rain with 15 others in the back of a truck. I found a clapped out Toyota sedan, negotiated a price for the front seat (30,000 riel) and waited, and waited. Taxis don’t leave for anywhere without a full load. With six places on offer, I had bought two and we were still four short after an hour of waiting. By 11.30 the driver was pulling my pack out of the boot, mumbling something about there being one spare place in the last Nissan of the day to Battambang, although he could take me alone for 90,000 Riel. Just as I was preparing to club him over the head with my bag, two smartly dressed Cambodians turned up, paid for the entire back seat and we were off.
The 306km ride northwest along Route 5 to Battambang can be best described as uncomfortable. The first stretch to Kompong Chhnang is bearable with a few interesting sights along the way – Cham villages and mosques, the temple-topped former capital of Oudong, the magic turtle – but once you get to the northern outskirts of Kompong Chhnang Province, it’s all downhill, figuratively speaking. The end of the tarmac road heralds entering the forgotten province of Pursat. One wonders what the powers that be in this province have done to deserve being totally neglected when it comes to road works. The rutted, red dirt road has been in a continual state of decline for the last half decade and there is no respite for the backside until you are out of the province into Battambang.
From Cambodia’s second largest city of Battambang, travel to Pailin can only be made by pick-up. 100Baht (yes, we’ve left the land of the Riel) for a seat inside the cab or 50 Baht for a bench seat out back for the 2 hour, 80km trip. The graded dirt road takes you through the former battle lines and still populated IDP (Internally Displaced Persons) camps. Regular roadside villages extend as far as Traeng but from there on it’s nothing but scrubby hills and roped off minefields. CMAC has cleared the roadside area until about 25km outside Pailin, but this last stretch is real no-man’s land. No houses or people, although the partially cleared forest indicates that some people frequent the area.
The road then winds into the mountains, thickly forested for some stretches then totally cleared land. No houses or people, although the partially cleared forest indicates that some people frequent the area.
The road then winds into the mountains, thickly forested for some stretches then totally cleared for others. It takes a final ascent and then enters the sprawling town of Pailin.
This former Khmer Rouge stronghold greets arrivals with the curious image of a temple topped hill and one of the most unusual looking pagodas in the country. Strange indeed considering the Khmer Rouge’s attitude towards religion. The main drag continues down past government offices, a couple of restaurants and numerous gem dealerships to the central town square-cum-football field-cum-gem mine and the market.
The thing that struck me immediately about Pailin was how orderly things appeared. There was little rubbish and what traffic there was moved slowly and courteously. The main road was a bit of a shambles, having just been dug up and graded by the “Koreans”, I was told. The same person, a Pailin resident for the last 10 years recalled with a smile that these Koreans had won a hotly contested bid to pave the main road and lay guttering in the hope that they would strike it rich in gems. “Good plan but what they didn’t know is that we had dug up the road twice already!” This probably explained why the paving was progressing at a snail’s pace. Already Pailin was feeling like a separate country.
On the first afternoon in town, my companion and I, two of only three westerners in town found ourselves invited to the opening of a new Ministry of Agriculture building. I’d been to a couple of these sort of functions before – stand in the sun, listen to long incomprehensible speeches and clap on cue. We were told it started at 4pm so we turned up at 5 hoping it would be pretty much over. What we hadn’t banked on was a live band and tables set for 500 guests.
We were ushered to a table with two empty seats and were met with cold stares. These battle-hardened soldiers, all sporting new RCAF uniforms have the strangest eyes; a kind of milky, glazed look.
“Malaria,” suggested my friend. “Seeing too much death,” I countered. When I arrived back in Phnom Penh my wife assured me that it was from eating human liver. Whatever it was, it gave me the
hebee jeebees from across a small table.
The food arrived and the band cranked up. Then the Singha beer, then Thai “Regency VSOP Cognac”. Half an hour later we were all sharing similarly glazed eyes and toasting each other’s health. “Democracy! Development! Peace! Stop Khmer killing Khmer!”. Within an hour, we were stumbling through the hand dance. The same soldiers who would have shot us without a second thought two years ago were now fighting with each other to dance with us. Totally bizarre. Many people knock Cambodians for their inabilities, but they certainly all share the ability to have a good time.
The next day we managed to blag a ride around the region with a visiting NGO prospector. Not prospecting for gems or timber but for some do-gooder type projects. The hilly countryside alternates
between scarred landscape from logging, gem mining and war to thick virgin forest. I have my suspicions that the untouched forest, especially close to town is preserved to hide the entire town if needed. Indeed the side of Phnom Khieu that faces Pailin is thickly forested while the far side is totally bare.
Cleared areas are periodically cultivated with a little rice, coffee, chilli, bananas and other fruit. Rural villages are few and far between and very very poor.
Back in town we took a look at the new casino and had a wander around the market. I was surprised to learn of how many traders were from out of town; Battambang, Siem Reap, Kompong Som, Kampot, all over. Pailin certainly has an allure of being a frontier town with great opportunity to make some money. This and the general opinion that the authorities were not corrupt were reportedly the biggest drawcards for Pailin’s newest residents.
And tourism in Pailin? There’s the casino and new Teng Bunma hotel on the horizon which will draw a certain type of tourist. But really, more than Pailin having anything in particular to see or do, it’s another fantastic corner of Cambodia to experience.