It's Rainy Season, You Say?

We were up early Tuesday morning for our free continental breakfast (read: coffee and toast) and then off to the Temples of Angkor on our (rather small) rented bikes. The temples were, of course, amazing. The traffic we had to maneuver through and the beeps we had to endure were not.

And the swarms of children selling all sorts of goods were depressing. You just have to walk away, and next thing they'll be offering you a $27.95 guide to the temples for just $1. I couldn't bear it. So I paid $2 for a water...

Each child that approached us would ask us where we were from (always suggesting England, Australia, Canada and even Sweden before they made it around to America) and then receite facts about the US they had learned from other tourists. "Capital, Washington, D.C. Population, 300 million. Alaska, biggest state. Rhode Island, smallest state." Then they would ask what state we were from and inevitably tell us that the capital of California was Sacramento.

When I asked one of the boys if he went to school, he said no, because then he had to pay the teacher, but at the temples, he could make money. So sad.



After stopping at the third temple, the last that we felt we had to see before we left, we decided to head back as it was getting late. It started to rain, which made it harder and more trecherous to avoid certain death on the narrow roads, confronted with speeding buses and dump trucks.

One would think the greater mass law would prevail, but vehicles of all shapes and sizes throw themselves into the thick of it. I stubbornly refused to back down and drive in the dirt, on my rickety bike with no gears, and like to think that in turn for seeing my life flash before my eyes more than once, I earned a little Khmer respect. (I seriously doubt it though. They probably just laughed at me.)

Within a few minutes, the rainstorm turned into a monsoon and I could no longer see where I was going. WE pulled off the side of the road and huddled under some trees. I honestly don't think it helped any. I have never been so wet in my life. When it finally eased up, I pulled my bike out of its watery grave and we set off. On the ride back, we didn't even bother avoiding puddles: we were already soaked through.

But Earthwalkers did have a new room for us, and some clean laundry, and once showered, we both felt a little better. Our shoes still haven't dried yet, though, and they stink like all get out.