End Times Eve in Kampot
[Phnom Penh, 12/29/24]
The day after my arrival in Cambodia, I applied for a Vietnam visa, only to be told a few hours later, “You are currently staying in Vietnam. Therefore, you are requested to exit from Vietnam prior to your resubmission of documents.” A bureaucratic glitch, I thought. Unless there are two of me, always a possibility, I exited Vietnam via Mộc Bài on 12/26/24. After applying again, I received, just an hour ago, the same message. Maybe it’s only my ghost typing this inside a $7 hotel room in Kampot. I’m still in Vietnam!
I just sent to Vietnamese immigration a photo of my passport page with the Mộc Bài exit stamp. It clearly says, “26 DEC 2024.” There’s also a number, 5107, which must mean something. I also sent them a photo of my Cambodia immigration card. It proves I entered the Kingdom of Wonder on 12/26/24.
Yesterday, I took a 7AM train from Phnom Penh to Kampot. Before boarding, I noticed a tense older white woman exotically dressed in pastel colors. She even had flowers in her hair. A long mummified Khmer with horrible teeth was also spruced up with an embroidered shirt and fedora hat. Not to be outdone, I had my psychedelic chemise with its lurid fish, flowers and coral reef. When you see such freaks at dawn on a train platform, it’s obviously the End Times. Kneel down and fuckin’ pray.
Though I again dozed through much of my trip, I did catch oatmeal colored cows, snowy ducks, towering bamboos and a few limestone mountains. It’s always touching to see kids waving at trains. So exhausted, I was tempted to just leap off, howling and screaming, at Kep, but somehow I made it to my final destination.
Unlike everybody else, I didn’t take a tuk-tuk into town. Without knowing how far I had to go, I walked. For months, I haven’t carried a cellphone, so I had no map. After a mile, I saw more shops and a few hotels. There was also a huge wet market, Samaki. If this wasn’t home, where is it? At PonLeu Dara, the two guys at the reception desk spoke neither English nor pidgin sign language. I made gestures for “see,” “key” and “room,” meaning I wanted to see my room before paying. Finally, he called an English speaker so I could talk to her.
Kampot’s motto is “Tourism for all, all for tourism.” Most tourists are clustered near the Durian Roundabout. There, you can get Greek, Italian, burgers and pizzas. I prefer this funky end.