I wouuuuuuld enjoy going to ancient and holy temples if they didn’t have so many damn rules. Why do I have to cover my knees and shoulders? What if I just wear homely clothing? I mean, I still like experiencing the temples because it’s amazing to see history in real time, like how lucky am I?
HOWEVER
Growing up in Southern California, covering my legs and shoulders at the same time is something I rarely….pretty much NEVER do. Why are clothes important? It was 190 degrees. Not really that hot but it felt like I was in an oven that was cranked up and ready to roast a turkey….or a chicken…or tofu, whatever you enjoy. Everyone in the Language Corps group was drenched. I mean drenched. We looked like we dove into a pool. Hair stuck to scalps and foreheads. It wasn’t pretty.
My white shirt, is usually a safe color to wear in terms of sweat stains….not this time though. My white shirt was see through and you could see my nude strapless bra underneath.
GROOOOOOSSSSS (or sexy, depends on how you wanna look at it).
Mind you. This was only at the very first temple. Idk what type of crack cocaine I was on, but in my mind I assumed the second temple would be ‘cooler’ and ‘more chill.’
I must have been on drugs. The second temple is where Tomb Raider was filmed…………so there were hundreds of people in the scorching sun trying to get a photo where the famous tree from the movie was filmed. This sounds like a standard amount of people, it really does. But think of this amount of ‘standard people,’ in an aggressively tight space with a limited breeze. You would want to tell all of these tourists to get the fuck out and move the fuck on.
The third tomb is pretty much where Megan and I said fuck everyone. We pretty much crawled to a secluded part of the temple in the shade with a breeze and just sat for at least 30 minutes until we mustered enough energy to climb to the highest point of the temple….where we chilled a bit more.
Being a tourist is tiring you guys. It’s like a war zone sometimes and that’s exactly what it was. Eventually it was time to head back to the hotel and get ready for dinner.
One would think being in Cambodia all I would want to eat is delicious authentic Khmer food. You are wrong. I want Mexican food and sushi all the time. So when someone said they found a Mexican restaurant that had Margaritas I was allll about it. As always whenever Tequila is involved things get weird. Not weird weird, but fun weird. You get to see usually shy people do some fun and embarrassing things. Once dinner was paid for we went over to Angkor Wat, a bar that ‘Encourages irresponsible drinking since 1998.’ We were all about that.
Some of us ordered buckets of vodka Redbull and jack and coke. I avoided that route due to my summer in Florence….I know first hand how dangerous and ruthless those buckets can be.
One anonymous girl from our group spend the night throwing up in the bathroom all night. Which makes ME want to vomit just thinking about it because there is nothing nice, clean, comforting, about a Cambodian toilet. I would probably rather vomit all over my own clothes and be forced to sit in them for the rest of the night than have my face anywhere near a toilet in Cambodia. Real shit.
Anyway, about the fun shit. Angkor Wat and the bar across the way were kind of competing for customers I want to say, but in the end they ended up losing…or both winning, depends on how you want to look at it. Everyone from both bars poured into the street to dance. AND IT WAS SO MUCH FUN.
Did I mention the Japanese tourists? They were my favorite humans. SO MUCH FUN! We danced on bars, we danced in the street, we danced, we took selfies, we took videos, we took snapchats. I pretty much fell in love with the Japanese.
DID I NOT TALK ABOUT THE DANCING CAMBODIAN GIRL IN THE STREET ? SHE HAS SWWWAAAAAAAAG. The video is pretty shitty, but I’m hashtag happy hashtag blessed I even got a video considering the state I was in.
Sometime after one of my selfies with the Japanese I seem to have lost my memory of the night. I woke up the next morning at around 7am (good thing because both Meg and I didn’t set alarms) laying on top of my sheets in my dress from the night before. This is a classic move by me.
But still, c’mon Ta, you’re 22 now.
On the fine morning that I woke up in my dress, was the day we were to head back to Phnom Penh. On the way back we had plans to stop at an unknown temple called Beng Melea. Unlike Angkor Wat it hasn’t been kept pretty and perfect all of these years so it’s actual ruins. It was a really fun. Because I was still drunk I didn’t give a flying fuck about what I touched, what I climbed on and what have you…I was pretty much a big kid on a really big and dangerous playground. raaaaad. Megan slipped on some rocks and I thought I was going to pee my pants. Between the spiders and heat (she’s not too good with heat and sweating) and slipping on rocks, she had quite the weekend hehe.
After like 30 hours we made it back to Phnom Penh to face a boring boring boring boring boring boring exhausted tiring so annoying so irritating exhausting mentally draining boring week.
I blessed myself to margaritas and a burrito to celebrate Taco Tuesday and because I wanted Margaritas and a burrito while Megan went somewhere without me for really yummy dinner and wine with a pretty view.
Anne and I got waxes together toGETHER TOGETHER TOOOOGEEEETTTTHHHHEERRR in the same room. I won’t say much more because Anne and I just can’t put the experience into words. But what I will say is it was a violating experience….and I blame Anne 100% because she brings some weird energy where the craziest shit happens that makes me laugh until I cry and question my life.
Traumatizing shit.
N e Wayz–post about beautiful Sinhoukville is coming soon. Beaches, dranks and inner tubes bitches.
Black Girl New Continent 