13 Gruesome Hours of Ass Torture

Saigon and a jungle of motorcycles

     After a few hours of sleep, I woke up at 6 am debating on whether or not I should take a shower.  Because I was pressed for time, I opted not to (yuck, I know) and hurried back to Nguyen Hotel to get some breakfast and my bus ticket.  

     I met two Indian guys at the lone breakfast table.  They smiled and immediately chatted me up.  "Hulloh, are you from India too?"  I smiled and shook my head, "No I'm Filipina."  They introduced themselves as Ravi and Kumar  and told me that they were also heading for Siem Reap.  Fortunately, they were taking another bus.  I didn't want to be stuck with them, they seemed full of energy.  Di ko sila type hehe.

     I jammed my mouth with French baguette smeared with butter and jam and remembered those years when my dad used to bring us to the Vietnamese village in Palawan.  If we have our pan de sal, the Vietnamese have their French baguettes (sosyal!).  The receptionist came and told me, "Ms. Kethera hurry eat please."  Teka teka, hirap kaya lunukin ng tinapay nyo!  I must have tried to swallow a big piece because I found myself grabbing for the cup of coffee...  Mainit pala masyado, napaso tuloy dila ko.  The coffee was divine and I would have loved a second cup if I was not running out of time and had my tongue not been scalded.

     The receptionist guided me out of the alley and onto the main street with a big red bus waiting.  I took the Mekong Express Limousine Bus and handed him $23 for my one way ticket to Siem Reap.  "See  you Ms. Kethera, have a wonderful trip.  Please come to our hotew again when you return from Cambodia."  I faked a smile, di na oi!  Pagkatapos mo kong itapon sa ibang hotel, come back come back ka pa dyan!

Kertu and his friends getting off at the Orussey Market, PP.

     I boarded the bus and the girl handed me a stub with my seat number on it. 9C.  I quickly waded my way through the back and prayed to God that I don't end up next to the urinal.  Utang na loob Lord, wag naman malapit sa banyo.  

     I gave a silent prayer of 10 Our Fathers and 4 Hail Mary's when I found my seat (ok, not really).  There was a huge (no pun intended) blonde guy sprawled across my seat.  He immediately straightened up, smiled and asked me if I was willing to swap so he can have the aisle seat instead.  I didn't mind of course.  I love window seats.  When he stood up so I can scoot and I realized that he must have measured a good 6ft...  For the life of me, I honestly didn't think that the that I will not be flattened against the window, just to make it fit.  Diyos ko, pano naman kami kakasya dito.  

The bus ticket comes with a wet tissue and snack of pastries

     He immediately plopped down and extended his hand, "My name is Kertu, and you are?"  I blinked and was momentarily speechless.  Ang panget naman ng pangalan mo haha.  Hello Kertu?  I'm Katrina.  "Oh Katrine!  My cousin's name in Finland is also Katrine."  Eh ano naman ngayon?  I immediately corrected him but then he went on and insisted that the correct name should be Katrine.  Bahala ka dyan, marunong ka pa sa nanay ko!

     I diverted my attention outside the window.  The streets of Saigon were infested with motorcycles.  They're everywhere just like what I've read.  The sidewalks were dotted  up by people drinking coffee and eating pho by the roadside.  I will definitely try that when I get back.  I was busy drinking in the unfamiliar signs of different establishments but Kertu decided that he will not make this an easy ride for me.  He tapped my knee (chancing ka pa dyan! hehe):  "Katrine, have a beer with me."  I looked at him because I wasn't sure if I heard him right.  There he was thrusting a can of Tiger beer on my face.  Ay Dyos ko po!  Sana Coke na lang yang binibigay mo sa kin.  

Mekong Express Bus at Moc Bai border

      I didn't know if God was playing a joke on me.  First, I smelled like tuyo on my flight to Ho Chi Minh.  Kertu stood up to grab something from the overhead bin.  Another can of beer.  Something tells me that I will end up smelling like chico as well.  

     The ride to Moc Bai-Bavet (Vietnamese-Cambodian) border took only a few hours.  By then, Kertu already had 3 cans of beer and told me that he's 19 (sayang hahaha), that my name is Katrine and not Katrina, that Nokia is from Finland (duh!), that I don't look  Pinay, and that I look young as compared to the fellow 19 year old girls that he was travelling with.  Had he not been drunk and incessantly chatty, I would have been flattered.  

     We were asked to get off the bus to have our luggages scanned and our passports stamped.  This is the first time I'm crossing an international border by myself.  Kertu immediately lined up behind me and I silently wished that they would find marijuana inside his pockets and lock him up forever hehe.  That is unfair Katrine, why were you not charged $20 for a visa?   I don't need a visa Kertu.  I'm Filipina.  But you don't look like a Filipina, you should pay dollars. Really???  Are you f*cking kidding me!?!

     I don't know if Kertu was genuinely dumb, or if he was just drunk, or was just trying to annoy the hell out of me.  I figured it was all of the above so I took my seat again, praying to God that he will be drunk enough to sleep the rest of the way.  

    After six hours and a few stops, we finally arrived in Phnom Penh.  God must have decided to give me a break because Kertu tapped my arm and told me that he and his friends will get off the bus now.  "Goodbye Katrine."  Goodbye Kertu, it was nice meeting you (not really).

Crossing the border, Bavet side

     The next seven hours passed by like a blur.  I drifted in and out of sleep.  Shifted my tired butt and stretched my legs.  There were 14 of us who continued the journey to Siem Reap.  There was an Irish couple, Mike and Anette.  An Australian guy named Terry.  Malene, Henrik, Niklas and Torben from Denmark and Sweden.  Marla, Kristina and Jessica from England.  The rest, I have no idea.  Being the only Asian in the group, they bombarded me with questions about the Philippines and asked me the inevitable question:  Why are you on your own?

     I pointed to Terry who was travelling on his own too.  Yes, but you're a girl and you're Asian.  I just smiled and told them that I wanted to try something new.  I guess they heard the wariness in my voice so they stopped hounding questions after that.  

     By then, my butt felt numb.  Everything outside was dark and I can feel my tummy rumbling.  You better be worth it Siem Reap...    

     

$10 dollar Saigon "Hotel"

     I wish I can say that I fell in love with Saigon on my brief stay there.  I thought I did, until I stepped out of Tan Son Nhat Airport.  Taxi drivers swarmed at me the moment I got out.  "Taxi lady? $35 dollar???"  WTF?!?  I am not stupid to pay $35 dollars just to get my ass off the airport.  And then somebody was grabbing my arm luring me into his cab.  "Oki oki, $15 dollar for taxi for the beautiful ledi."  Sus kuya!  Nangbola ka pa, malas mo at purdoy ako, kundi papatulan ko $15 dollars mo!  I've never felt so in demand before.  It feels like I'm a piece of meat thrown into a pit of hungry crocodiles.  I felt like a Hollywood superstar, everybody wanted me.  And then I glanced at the other people who were experiencing the same ordeal.  Okay, at least I am not the only victim here.  

     After so much haggling and playing the game of no-I-don't-want-your-price-please-lay-off-my-arm-walk-away-like-I-dont-care-look, I finally settled to pay $8 to get me into town.  Do you know the Nguyen Khang Hotel?, I asked while gritting my teeth knowing that I had still been ripped off.  Yes, I tek you to a nice hotew...  A very nice hotew!!!  NO!  I have reservations at Nguyen Khang.  I don't want a nice hotel!  But Nguyen Khang not a nice hotew...  I take you to a nice hotew...  We did that for a while and I had to explain to him that I will only be in Saigon for a few hours before I take the first bus out to Cambodia.  I didn't need a nice hotel, I just need a cheap one.  

     Saigon was well alive at that hour.  The streets were lined up of different establishments were nocturnal party animals dwell.  I drank in the sights and smell of the city but all I could smell was my hair.  It reeked of tuyo mixed with the pine car freshner dangling in front of me.  Twenty minutes later, he stopped at Pham Ngu Lao District.  I saw the colorful night lights of Saigon and I hurriedly scanned the signs to see where my hotel was.  Ledi, you go that way to your hotew...  He was pointing to a dark alley where I had to pass by some locals enjoying some beer.  Tambay sa kanto, Vietnamese style.  Jesus Christ, what did I get myself into?  I guess the taxi driver saw the horror register on my face once I found out that my hotel was in some seedy looking alley.  I told you ledi, Nguyen Khang isn't a nice hotew....  Impaktong to, pinamuka pa talaga sa kin!

Pham Ngu Lao at Night

     I braved the alley, just to spite the driver and pretended that I knew what I was getting myself into.  I walked extra fast everytime I saw some loitering people while cursing myself for bringing a luggage instead of a pack.  Finally, I saw my hotel.  Closed.  No, don't do this to me!  I rapped through the steel bars until somebody opened up.  You are Kethera?  I had been wetting for you.  Ano daw?  At kelan ba naging Kethera pangalan ko?  At bakit mo ko sinaraduhan kung hinihintay nyo pala ako???  

Hotel hotelan

     We did the usual chit chat, his words barely making sense considering that his English was not that perfect and since it was 2am, I was too tired to try and analyze what he was mumbling.  Tonight, you will stay at another guesthouse because we overbooked...  Then tomorrow, you come back for your bus ticket and your breakfast.  Ano daw?!?  Ilalagay mo ko sa ibang hotel na hindi ko naman binook?!?!?!?  

     I was too tired to even picture myself strangling him to death.  I followed him like a lamb about to be sacrificed.  He took me to another guesthouse, where we climbed stairs all the way to the fourth floor.  And I ended up in a crappy little room with no window.  I will not pay $17 dollars for this.  This is not what we agreed upon.  But Ms. Kethera, we are full.  It's not safe for you to go outside at this time.  I will not pay $17 dollars.  Oke oke, $10 for this room.  Dapat lang no!  

     So there I was, in some backdoor alley "hotel" with no window.  I psyched myself up banking on the fact that my ass will be out of there in a few hours.  It was clean and the sheets smell nice.  I was so disappointed that I didn't even bother to take pictures of it.

    I tried to convince myself that I will like Saigon when I get the chance to explore it after my Cambodia trip.  

     As tired as I was, smelling like tuyo at that, I quickly took a shower and just shook my head in dismay.  This is not how I imagined things to be...

Coffee, Tea or Tuyo???

     I was giddy and nervous when I finally reached NAIA 3 despite the Friday night traffic.  This is it, the start of my brief adventure.  To begin with, I hate airports.  It brings memories of saying goodbye  to people who are dear to me.  It's a one of a kind jungle with people coming and going.  It's confusing as hell and certainly not for the likes of me who'd panic at a mere sight of a crowded elevator.  But it had to be done Kat and you only have 15 minutes before they close the check in counter.

     After braving the crowd and waiting for kingdom come, I happily called my dad to announce that I am finally boarding.  "Wag kang mawawala."  Don't get lost, he said.  I bit back a smart-ass retort and just reassured him that I will get home in one piece.  Goodbye for now, Manila.

    The two and a half hour flight from Manila to Saigon was pretty much uneventful.  Or so I thought...  There I was happily sitting on my window seat when the guy right next to me (a fellow Pinoy)  tapped my arm, breaking my silent reverie.  "Miss, do you mind if I place this here?"  He was pointing to an innocent looking paper bag, the contents of which I will discover a few minutes later.  It's okay, I don't mind.  He smiled and jammed the paper bag in between us.  He then told me that he will be heading to Phnom Pehn to attend his brother's wedding.  I nodded and took a nice deep breath preparing to bombard him with questions about the city.  As I inhaled deeply, it finally dawned on me why he looked so apologetic when he asked to put the bag near me.  He must have seen me cringe because he then proceeded to explain:  "Uhmm, sorry the overhead bin is full.  My brother requested for dried fish.  I was in a hurry, I think I wasn't able to pack it properly"   I just nodded and smiled but in my head, I was mentally smacking him like a pro.

     Don't get me wrong,  I love dried fish just like any other Pinoys.  I am not at all bothered by the smell.  Pero utang na loob kuya, wag mo naman itabi yan sakin sa eroplano.  Seriously, WTF?!?  Why me?!?  I glanced at the person on the aisle seat and noticed that she's a tourist.  Kaya pala ako ang piniling parusahan ni kuya...  Kaya pala...

     So there I was, smelling like tuyo, finally setting foot in Tan Son Nhat Airport.  Well hello there Saigon, we finally meet...  

Ticket For One, please...

     I had been keeping my secret for a couple of months before I decided to break the news to my family in the midst of all the Christmas hullabaloo.  "Dad, I will be leaving for Vietnam and Cambodia at the end of January."  I sat there watching his face shift from happily-munching-a-piece-of-ham to a how-do-I-deal-with-what-she-just-said-expression.  "Who are you going with?"  He looked at me and started to light a stick of Marlboro, probably brazing himself for a shocking answer.  "I will be on my own Dad..."

     At that point, I think my dad would have preferred if I told him that I was going with a surprise boyfriend that they never knew existed.  For the life of him, he probably could not figure out why I would make such a decision.  And just as I had imagined, he asked me the inevitable question, "WHY?!?"

     I had never travelled alone.  I grew up living in a military base where my siblings and I grew accustomed to sticking together and mastering one specific route: home-school/office-home.  We never frequented bars or any other after-school/office-hangouts.   

     And though I am a lawyer by profession, I am generally shy and mostly keep to myself when thrown to a sea of strangers.  Unless you are a very close friend or a long time acquaintance, I will never dare speak to you unless your hair is on fire (okay, that might be exaggerating a bit, but you get the point).

     So why am I travelling out of the country alone?   I had been bombarded with this question for several weeks now and honestly, at times, I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from giving out a sarcastic retort.

     I wish I have an intelligent answer.  I wish I can just give you some mumbo jumbo answer and honestly say that I am just going through some quarter life crisis.  Or that I need to find myself.  I really wish I had something smart to say and put to rest any doubts that I might be meeting someone there.

     But I don't.  

     I bought my plane tickets a few months back because I was broken hearted.  I still am and had been for over a year now.  Yes, it may sound overrated and you might be having gag reflexes and probably rolling your eyes at this point.  But that is the honest truth.  

     I am alone because I don't have anyone right now.  It's as simple as that.  Yes, I have my family and my wonderful friends. But there are just some things that are meant to be done with a special person.  I am sure you get what I mean.  

     So instead of staying here, wallowing in recurring heartbreaking moments, I chose to go away and make things happen.  So instead of staying here, crying my heart out, I chose to do it while wandering around some remote place.  Instead of getting used to the idea of people leaving me behind, I chose to leave and live...   

     Sure, it would be fun to go through this experience with someone hand in hand.  But for now, it would just have to be me.  Just Kat...  

     Ticket for one, please...