The Art of Time Travel

Here in K-Town I have discovered a phenomenal phenomenon, Time Travel.   Although I have only been here for approximately one month, during this time I have begun noticing a rift in the time warp continuum  that only appears to happen here in this magical land.  It is a complicated process that involves 1 Wormhole and a lil theory called the Double Wednesday also known as the Bacterian Camel hypothesis, which all together create the ability to travel through time.

Don't believe me, too bad.  This topic has been thuroughly vetted by myself and my roommate who actually has a PHD in Theoretical Particle Physics over a few glasses of "non" alcoholic beverages, because that would be illegal here if there was for some reason smuggled bottle of Jim Beam that made its way all the way from the Istanbul duty free shop, and lordy knows I have the utmost regard for the local police and their upstanding ways.  As I was saying, through these vigorous debates we have concluded that we actually time travel, not once but actually twice each week while living the dream here in K-Town.  

This is an Astrophysisisist.

How do we time travel exactly?  Does it involve a wacky phone booth and George Carlin? Not really, but that would be pretty fucking excellent and most triumphant! Does it involve any sort of hallucinogenics, in which I am not really time traveling but really stoned? Definitely not, this place has not quite figured out how to have a classy weed dispensary on every corner like say Denver or Los Angeles.  

I will tell yall what it does involve, quantum physics and a hefty amount of free time on our hands sitting around the casa to develop something soooooo complex.  I will start by explaining the Double Wednesday Theory. Here, the week begins on Saturday which is kinda like Monday, which in tern makes Sunday, Tuesday, and so on and so forth if you follow this logic.  Is that time travel?  Well not really, but stay with me friends.   As this wacky week unfolds, around Monday aka K-Town Wednesday things get a bit fishy.  In a normal week, Wednesday or Humpday is the mid week fiesta that says, "Hey, everything is gonna be ok, soon enough it will Thursday, which is kinda like baby friday, and then the TGIF comes right at ya and it nothin but margaritas, nachos, and a high school football team masquerading as the University of Colorado the next afternoon" Yet here in K-Town, Monday, our Wednesday actually happens twice.  Since everyone here works six days a week, you actually get a Double Wednesday (My Monday and Tuesday), or Double Humpday( get the Camel reference now...... wakka wakka).   Kinda like a two day long Groundhod Day each week, where you get all jazzed up for the day that signifies that the work week is half over, only to live it all over again the next day. Frown Face. 

If you are not convinced of this time travel logic, well here is more irrefutable evidence, discovered by my roomies and myself, via the Paj Shambey WormHole (That be what we call Thursday here, Paj Chambay).  Since you are already up on our logic on which of my days corresponds to which of your days, we can bypass splaining it all over again and get down to brass tacks, the Wormhole. 

Everyone familiar with TGIF?  Good, it will make it a whole lot easier. 

So K-Town we have ourselves TAIP or Thank Allah Its Paj Shambey, as Thursday really becomes the big night on the town.  Now with all the ex-patriots living here, not talking bout Teddy Bruschi yall, but the folks like me and others who get paid heaps of dough to come up with ideas of how to make Afghanistan a bit less Afghanistany(all with good intentions mind you, even if at times misguided, but we will get after that another time). For the most part these folks are from western nations and enjoy themselves  good ole hootanany each and every TGIF or TAIP in our case.  Being a nation where the all-mighty dollar gets you anything you need, with the right amount of loot and right connections there are plenty ways to get after a western style TAIP. 

This is Pretty Much What Paj Shambey Looks and Feels Like. 

Speakeasy rooms of really nice restaurants or just old fashioned partay's are the usually affairs for these expats to get their crunk on.  Here is where the time travel happens.  Each and every Paj Shambay ex-pats get their groove on and awaken with a touch of a hangover on Friday morning, which you think would be like our Saturday here.  Wrong,  instead of figuring out what is next on the docket of illegal hooch and somewhat legal debauchery, it has automatically become Sunday(really Friday here) morning with the beginning of the work week one long couch nap away.   The TAIP Wormhole warps you from Friday night all the way to Sunday morning with Saturday being a distant memory from days of yore in the motherland.  

No Sabado Gigante, no college football, no Blakey Mimosa Breakfasts.  No Saturday.  Just a lazy Sunday day with nothing open round town, people going to mosque, and a whole bunch of Sunday chores like washing spiderman underoos for the soon to ensue week.  Double Frown Face. 

So with all this new information at your disposal, just know that I plan to live vicariously though your own Saturdays and single Wednesdays during my time in K-Town. If you have time, maybe send me a wacky photo of yourself enjoying a Blakey Mimosa, that would be nice. 

Well here is some proof of my time traveling here. 

VayaConDoritos.
xoxoxo
me

Here is a Sk8board That Time Traveled to K-Town From a Much More Racist Past.

This Dude has Time Traveled from 1862 to Modern Day K-Town

Artsy Pic

Old School Mosque on a Hill by Worky Work

Afghan Premier League Championship! Front Row Seats for the Rumble in the Rubble! Mazar V Herat.

This Ball Time Traveled into the Back of the Net to get Mazar Back in the Mix. 

MailBag!!!

Well, it has been over a week since my departure from los estados unidos, and my guess is that I should start being comfortable with my new digs and locale. The answer is yes and sure why not.   Moving to a weird place, getting used to weird things, eating weird bits, and meeting real awesome poeple(I bet ya thought I was gonna say weird there, well too bad, the people here are pretty great so far, although I do have a few fashion tips for the hombres......) becomes a bit normal pretty much after the first time is my guess, I am only two weeks deep so far, but will keep you updated through the worldwideweb.

My new spot has dos lovely perros, which will not be eaten(frown face, bur probably for the best as I kinda enjoy their company, and they keep the badmen away), a tv full of movies which are then chalk full of Indian commercials repeated 2-3 times each commercial break, and one badass Targah.  What is a Targah you ask?  Well a Targah is our housdude, who pretty much keeps it real 24-7, and whose job is to also keep to badguys away while wearing a stylish purple jacket.  Gotta have a gate opened, Targah got it.  Gotta have some house stuff taken care of, Targah got it.  What about having an fun conversation in half english and half dari, where nobody really gets the answer but all seem to enjoy the process nonetheless, Targah definitely got that. One thing Targah don't got is a beer less then $10 bucks out here.  This is a Targah.

Most importantly I have been getting accustomed to almost everyone thinking that I am an Official Afghan, and not the rug, a person.  From the folks at work, to my new good friend Generalisimo Aghbar, to almost everyone on the streets when I happen to cruise out for one of these bad boys(see below), I appear to have the traits of one of the locals, excluding a gnarly unibrow, which is good I guess.  I get into some trouble as soon as I open my mouth and can't say a lick of Dari, but my long term goal is to play the part of a deaf-mute Afghan which should suffice for the next six months.  I mean in a place where literacy is extremely low, the chances of running into the one Afghan who can sign Dari is pretty slim, so I think I'm gonna roll with it.

This is How Kabul Does Burgers

Now after being absent from the states for a few weeks, many people have asked me many questions about just about everywhich thing you can imagine.  To date I have received thousands of requests in ole uncle mugsy's mailbag, wowza, of which I can only answer a select few.  Here are a few of the gems in this weeks mailbag:  


 Dear Rory,

I know you like eating critters of all shapes and forms, so what sort of critters do they serve in Kabul?  Do any of these critters make your tum tum go uh oh?

Regards,
Concerned in Constantinople

Thank for you letter Concerned, and for an answer yes, there are some fantastic critters to eat here.  Mostly in the form of rice and bread.  Yup, experimental eating at its finest.  I would say 90% of the meals I have had, excluding the above goodness and some expat pizza, is a combination of rice with flavor bits, maybe a topping and then bread to eat it with.  This will also be what I eat 90% of the remaining time here.  My guess is that folks here are carb-loading for the big game next weekend, which always actually happens to be the weekend after that. 


Dear Wory,

I heard you were planning to grow your hair weary weary wong while you are in Afghanistan. 
Is that twue?

From,
Lil Timmy
 

Well Lil Timmy, I had hoped to become Afghan's first official top of the head hairlord, lordy knows they got the bottom half of the head covered quite well.  And it always pleases Karen so much to see me wielding a mane, that I really wanted to.   But due to my keen chameleon skills of looking like a local, I am gonna opt for the high and tight look, all while rocking a well chiseled chinstrap beard and Salwar Kameez.  Razzle Dazzle!  If you don't know what a Salwar Kameez is, just look at my man Targah and you get the jist. This should have me fitting right in and not calling too much attention to my infidel ways. 

Fittin Right In

Rory,

How do you travel round the mighty city of Kabul? Are you still a moto madman or have you upgraded to full time car travel?

Cheers,
Cra Cra in Cambodia


Cra Cra, you so, well........Cra Cra.   That is an excellent question, and one of the most popular queries in the mailbag this week.  To be honest, we have two motos that I have to learn how to ride betterer, as they ain't no Bodian machines, but full on motos which have a clutch and all that jazz.  But until that time, we usually roll the mean streets in our hired taxi's or our human people mover the Toyota Vanagan.  Now this city isn't all that big, but the traffic here makes Los Angeles freeways look like Disneyland and Cambodian crazy streets like Lakeside.  It can often take 1 hora plus to get to or from work, which really cuts into my bread and rice time.  But it does give one time to check out how many fucking bullet holes have riddled this place over the last few decades.  Thank goodness it is much safer now, but still makes one think about the shit folks have been through here.

Traffic Jammeroo, if You Look Real Hard with Your Eyeholes, There are Some Definite Bullet Hole Action in the Background. 

That is just about it for this weeks mailbag, maybe there will be some more next week, or I will go with some other thoughtful ideas like, Whats under that burqua? or  Blame it on the Taliban, Waka Waka!  or Who know's.  My guess is that in the next week or so I will see something interesting to ramble about, like the road accident which occurred this morning between a horse-buggy and a bicycle.  Pretty funny, also pretty sure the horse dented it's front fender but all seemed ok, hence the funnyness. 

Whelp until next time.

Welcome to K-Town

More K-Town

Yup Even More K-Town

One Cookie and One Rickey. Keepin the Badman at Bay

Adios Amigos and Vaya con Doritos.

International Turminal

Whelp. Here begins another installment of what should be some weird and random musings of what I hope to be some radical entertainments for both y'all and m'all for next six months.  This time instead of being in the far east my daily interactions will occur in what I will call the not so far east, which has many other names which I don't really know yet, but I will I promise to find out.  Kabul, Afghanistan to be exact which I have yet to arrive in due to a 10 hour layover in Istanbul, which I am currently making my way through. 

Now the smarter man in me would be inclined to do a lil bit of research and figure out how to A. get the fuck out of the airport and into the knitty kgritty of Istanbul for a few hours and 2. avoid the transitionary weirdness of the international terminal.   Being the smrt gentleman that I am, I opted for the option not listed, which is brave the layover solely at Atutark aerpuerto for the duration of my time here in temporary stasis.  Now in order to combat such stasis I luckily have the internet, beer, and most importantly the awesomeawecity of the international terminal which one only needs working eyeholes to check out.

There is nothing more interesting than the international terminal at any airport, excluding Phnom Penh which is basically a hospital waiting room that serves $6 Angkor beers.  Most other of these international terminals offer the highest of ends of just pure, plain, crazy, interestingness. Case in point, literally just saw a dude blading through the Duty Free Zone.  No Fucking Joke.  He might have actually been working here, not totally sure, but if so kudos to Turkee as they make the US Segway cops look a bit on the soft side.

So with the next six impending hours I am doing my best to 1. Drink the last few legal beers possible before heading to a place where they are technically illegal for everyone but round-eyes like me who have the loot to spend international airport beer prices on a pint B. see how many free samplings of Turkish Delight I can scoop at the duty free shop( ps not really sure what Turkish Delight is, but overall not that impressive, kinda gooey and as far as international candy goes on the lower end of the scale, but nonetheless freer that the Sbarro or BK putting the food court about the same class as Westminster Mall).

Guessing that some of these folks might not want to be photographed and the fact that it is hard to capture them in their essence without looking like a complete jerk, I have opted to keep the imagination flowing on this one.  Just think burqua madness, a splash of definite eastern-euro style,  all mashed up with some extremely manicured facial hair, and some elderly gentlemen wear dude dresses.  Pretty sure these aren't very PC, and might be a tad offensive, but that's not my aim here, I just don't have any otherway to describe how interesting and cool this international stepping off point is.    

With all this being said, I hope yall enjoy the first installment of Vayacondoritos from this side of the planet and also hope that yall partake in the expressing some of what you might want to see these next few months.  Potential categories are listed below:

1. Dog or Goat: You Taste the Differnce
2. Burqua Trends Fall and Winter 2012
3. Most Expensive Beer
4. Afghan Wedding Crashers (I mean come on, there is always one to be smashed isn't there)
5. Babelicious Turkish Airport Security
6. Best Beard in the Stan (excluding me)
7. Turkmenistan Fashion Pageant
8. Headscarf or Fashion Statement?
9. Expat Weirdness
10. Longest Dude Dress
11. Fastest Track Suit
12. To Nacho or Not to Nacho
13. Do Kabulians/Kabulites Drink Ice Coffee, and Do They Give the Vietnamese a Run for their Money?
14.  Best Scott Baio Hair (also excluding me)
15.  What's on Your Moto?( rehashing an oldy but goody)

It Gonna Rain!!!

Here in Bodia we gots two seasons, wet and dry, aka not rainy and raining like every day.  Now we haven't hit the actual rainy season yet, but only got a few nice glimpses of an ever present future coming my way, and it aint pretty. Its actually purdy messy, being that the deluges that bring torrential rain make it hard to do just about anything here.  Wanna teach some youngsters how to kickflip, nope.  Wanna go see the ladies at the market for lunch or dinner, nope.  Wanna cruise to out and meet some amigos for a watered down Angkor, nope.

Not really a whole lot gets done when the rain gets to rainin.  The power usually goes out.  The black river, aka open sewer system starts to overflow and streets get flooded.  If you are unlucky enough to be on a moto, you have two options.  Put on a lil plastic poncho and try your best to make it to wherever you are headed to, or just post up under the closest shop and wait it out.  I like the second option personally as it give me some nice time to practice my non-existent Khmer language skills, and always improving hand gestures and sounds in order to communicate.

Rainin Sideways Yall. 

Careful with the Moto Broto!

Who Wants to Take a Dip in the Darkness of the Black River?

Now as I mentioned, stuff gets flooded out and flooded over, and if you are lucky enough to be in a place with virtually zero coordinated infrastructure, you can how interesting it can be.  This brings me to a nice lil story that happened Saturday for me, which is actually Friday for you, and now I am actually writing this tomorrow. Still with me....... Technically I'm in the future here, so if anyone wants to know some cool factiods about whats gonna happen and who is gonna win the NBA or NHL finals, think of me as your personal Biff Tannen.

So back to some story tellin.  Saturday morning team Sweatistan decided to take a group outing with the whole staff (including boyfriends and daughters((none of which were mine by the way))), Belgian doco film crew, a couple skate-students, some home cooked yum yums.  We loaded up El Jefe's red coche and the Cambodian Crusher full of all of the above mentioned goods and headed out to Takeo province, where our very own Chan2 grew up, for a country picnic and visit to the wildlife park.  Sounds pretty nice right.  Well you bet it was.  It was pretty fucking awesome, we had lunch with some monkeys, saw sunbears, crocodiles, tigers, and all sorts of cool critters.  Everything was going as planned.  Then, guess what came next. Rain.  It wasn't superbad rain, but it was a couple hours of on and off again rain, no biggy....... right?????

Monkey Lunch!

Me and Sawadee, Savuern's lil one.  Most Common Words Between Us Goes Like This, "Brother Play Angry Birds?!" 

We need to now remember what I mentioned before about the lack of infrastructure here, things like roads n such, and how they are affected by rain.  Deciding that if it is gonna keep rainin, we should head out soon as roads get messy and if we are out too late we would be driving in the dark. Like real dark, as until you reach the Penh most highways are unlit and littered with motos, also unlit, and an overall pretty treacherous time.  Add to this the fact that we have to bring Chan2, her lil cousins, and Madre back home to their village which is down some Cambo country roads before we even make it to the highway sets us up for some hijinks.

There are two roads to Chan2's house, and the good road aka better dirt road is actually being worked on, so the other only option is use the not so good road.  Going in and out the first time to pick people up wasn't too bad, as it had yet rained that day.  Key word being yet.  After the rain and on our way to drop folks off things were a bit messy, but not too too bad.  Or so I thought.

On the way out, things got radical.  Like ole fashion car in the radical.  While driving out on a dirt path not much bigger than the Cambodian Crusher, shit happened.  All of the sudden the rig started slippin the wrong way, straight into the rice paddy, full of rainy season goodness.  Part user error part bad road part car waaaaaaay too big to be cruising in that hood, part all three combined for a late afternoon mess.  I can try and explain how stuck we was, but instead of making yall brainiums work hard I have provided some lovely photos of the whole shebang later.

Ok, now even with 4 Wheel Drive on this bad boy, we were soooooo off kilter and the bottom of the paddy is soooooo much mud, there wasn't much luck getting out with a lil bit of help.  Now my all time favorite part of the experience was immediately after we ended up in the ditch.  Having been in quite a few scrapes like this growing up, I pretty much know the car A. would not explode and 2. not explode and everythang would be A-OK soon enough. Guess who didn't....

My Khmer amigos.  Now one has to remember my previous ramblings about the Moto Madness here, and how very few drive a car.  Well imagine a car full of people who rarely ever drive in one, and even rarelier fall into a ditch in one.  As soon as the car stopped, my friend the Dancebot Chada, freaked and pretty much jumped out the car right into the water, yelling for everyone else to do the same.  I was trying to explain that things were actually alright, and if people wanted to end up on dry land, all they would need to do is actually get out my door.  Guess what happened.  Yup, nobody understood, except Joan my Belgian amigo, and they all pretty much abandoned ship right into the rice paddy.  It was pretty funny.  

After a few attempts of trying to hammer the Crusher out frontways and backways, to no avail, the village people began cruising by to see whats with all the commotion.  Pretty soon we had the entire village, and their cousins, and cousins cousins coming over to see how the barang (me) got a car in the paddy.  We began to discuss strategery, with the rest of the Sweatistan krew and figured to get Benji, el Jefe, behind the wheel and the rest of us doing work after it, pushing knee deep in rice paddyness and at least ankle deep in mud, which by the way is extremely squishy between the toes.  

Sometimes it Takes a Legit Frenchman to Get Things Unstuck.

Next, people all started lending a hand, from getting wood planks to jam under the tires for traction, to help push, or just moral support of hanging out sans shirt looking radical(which was quite a few see below plz).  After pushing quite a bit with many hands and little success, the new friends called in probably the only truck big enough to pull out the Crusher to the rescue.  As this bad boy comes rolling in, it too almost falls into the paddy.  Which would have been shitty for us, but probably pretty funny to read for yall. 

Anywho, we get the cars attached (by metal wire which was attached to each car via being tied around a wrench, one of which got torched the first go round FYI) and with the truck pulling forward, the Crusher crushing backward, and as many people that can get a hand on the vehicle pushing, plus a few on the sides trying to weigh down the airborne wheel for traction we achieved momentous success!!!!  Really it wasn't all the momentous, just a car out of a ditch, but it felt pretty awesome and pretty sure everyone was super stoked to have been a part of the group effort to liberate the Crusher, just in time for a nice Cambodian sunset and a not so nice and somewhat dangerous drive home.

We made it safe and sound back the the command center known and shared a couple of luke warm beers, laughing, crying, and laughing again about the level of fun had that day.  It was pretty awesome, no joke. 

Before the madness, we caught this lil one taking the cows for a stroll!

Backways.

 

Frontways.

 

OnLooking With Authority!

 Check the Road, Pretty Tight Confines for the Crusher.

Awaiting Reinforcements. (ps This dude is my fave) 

Group Fun!!

As I previously mentioned this guy is the fucking best.  Just making sure everything goes according to plan. Pretty sure he stood like this the entire time. 

Yup!

 

Made it out Just in Time For a Beaut of  Khmer Sunset of the Rice Fields.

Lorli and the Temples of Vroom!

Ok, so I know that I promised to provide yall with photos of my trip pretending to be Indiana Jones while visiting Angkor Wat during the Khmer New Year Holiday, which I will do. But honestly the place is so immense and amazing that my lil iphone pics cannot do it nearly enough justice, even with my artsy $1 app that makes it look like I know how to take pics. There is a reason that tourists go there for a week and spend pretty much all day everyday visiting temples. There are like a million of them I am pretty sure, and they are all pretty dang cool too. I guess that's what happens when you have successive kings trying to outdo each other over a few thousand years.

If you really want to know more about it, my suggestion is to hop on a plane to Phnom Penh to come and visit me! I very much like visitors! When you get here we can cruise to Siem Reap and I will play tour guide and you can take all the photos your heart desires. We will even stop for the best cheeseburgers I have had to date in Cambodia. Sounds like a plan to me. We can even hit up Battambang, a sleepy town with some very cool old colonial architecture, awesome people, and good french fries too. Just give me about a weeks notice and I will take care of the rest. Done and Done. See you there.

Now I have some other fun stuff I want to discuss with you. I have been working on an idea in my brain, trying to document the different modes of transportation in the lovely Kingdom of Cambodia. Besides the Khmer Rich rolling deep in SUV's there are some pretty awesome methods of getting around town and making sure whatever goods you have get there too. From overfilled trucks with dudes riding on top, to bicycles with old ladies meandering through dirt roads there are multiple modes utilized here. With all the different types of ways of getting from A to B, by far the most entertaining has to be the moto. For me, I am actually getting pretty used driving our machines around town, which is pretty fun, albeit a tad dangerous and it can also be a bit hectic. Need to meet some folks to discuss NGOness at a coffee shop, hop on a moto and Pow! There in a jif. Need to grab lunch from one of the lovely ladies at the Russian Market, moto+me=done. Pretty simple math.

One drawback is that you never know when Johnny Law might pull you over for just about anything. Got blues shoes on, that's a ticket. Driving with a light on, that's a ticket(best part about is that it is totally illegal to drive with a light on during the day, but no problem driving at night without a light). Being white, That's definitely a ticket. But with all the dodging of the po po, I am improving my bargaining skills with them too. Very easy to talk your way out of a $20 ticket down to just a couple bucks. My personal move is to make a phone call, pretend I am talking to a boss at an NGO, then tell the copper to take me to the station because I would gladly pay the fine, I just need a receipt for the NGO. For some reason they never want to, wonder why...... Anyways now that I am official to drive with my real license issued from the Cambodian Man, I am emboldened to keep up my motoing ways.

Keeping with the theme here, many of you have probably heard me talk about how much I enjoy these thangs, so I made a plan to document these machines to show everybody stateside what coolness/crazyness I get to witness on the daily here. Really the best part about moto's in Asia is not just the machines or the people riding them, but what you can actually put on them. Motoists get pretty inventive when it comes to hauling around goods in these parts. So far I have seen pigs(yes not just one but multiple pigs!) on the back of a moto, 5 people on one moto(only 1 helmet though), tractor tires(about 5 was what I counted), and I have even heard of fridges being transported on these bad boys. Pretty much if you can figure out a way to make sure it doesn't fall of you can take it on a moto.

Last Friday afternoon, when my work was pretty much done for the day I went outside the casa/officina grabbed a chair and sat for about 25 minutes just looking for some fun stuff to cruise by. Literally in just the 25 minutes I was able to capture what I would say is a pretty nice slice of Cambodiana motoness. The neighbors were pretty hip to my game and it became a community effort to look down the road, see what was coming down our way and make sure I was ready to snap a pic. Savuern's father, who is probably the coolest dude in Cambodia by far, was more than happy to play lookout for me and give me a thumbs up when he saw a good rig on its way. When I showed him the afternoons work of street snapping unsuspecting moto drivers, we were both satisfied with our work.

It now becomes a bit of an afternoon trend, taking a 15 minute break to hang out on Savuern's porch, eat a cookie, mango, or whathaveyou, talk in broken English and Khmer, mostly not understanding anything being said, but somehow smiling and laughing a whole lot. They also find it fun to watch what stuff gets strapped to the back, sides, tops, whatever of these. Pretty good times and when you come to visit the temples I can take you there too and enjoy the radness of the hood and its inhabitants.

Here is some of our handywork from the afternoon, and ok ok a couple pictures of temples too. Enjoy!

Bag Man.

 

Somebody Just Hit Up the Khmer Ikea!

Just Think About How You Would Even Try to Add 2 More to on This?

3 Folks 1 Helmet.

Notice the PJ's, Pretty Standard Issue on Khmer Ladies.

Dude in the Back is My Partner in Crime. Dude in the Front, Movin Some Merch.

BattamBang!!!!

Tried to Get Artsy With This One.

Where We're Going We Don't Need Roads.

BattamBang Market.

Cambodian Countryside as Seen From Like a Million Stairs.

My Steed for Cruising Angkor Wat.

Pretty Effing Kewl!

This is Bayon.  This is Also Some Dudes Face.

I Thought This Looked Pretty Neat.

Probably Some of the BEST People Watching Ever Here.