Trâpeăng Prey

I’ve had many memorable rides in my life, and I’ve had many rides from airports—either arriving at my destination or returning home. The overlap in the Venn diagram of these sets of rides has been zero, a void. Until today.

I had no idea what to expect in Cambodia. Outside of my one tangible objective (The Photo), my plan had been to just show up and see what happens. My expectations were pretty low. I did as little research as possible on purpose, just figuring out the bare minimum practical information: language, currency, safety, transportation, etc. Until 28 days ago, I had never even heard of Siem Reap.

Transportation. That’s one thing I did know. Cambodia’s popular form of transportation is the Tuk Tuk, a three-wheeled motorized rickshaw.

Once I was settled at the airport—through customs, USD exchanged for some Cambodian riel, and having established that my checked travel backpack was definitely not joining me yet and was just chillin’ in Bangkok (thanks, AirTags)—it was time to find a way to my hotel in downtown Siem Reap. The airport is well out of town in the countryside. I used the app Grab, a popular multipurpose app in Southeast Asia that includes ride-sharing, much like Uber or Lyft. Unlike Uber and Lyft’s vehicle choice options, Grab offers the addition of Tuk Tuks.

I could have asked for a car—it would have been air-conditioned (it’s hot and humid in Cambodia year round) and much quicker to my hotel after 25 hours of travel—but I went with a Tuk Tuk, and holy shit, did I make the right choice.

I have never experienced anything like the ride between SAI and the Indra Porak Residence Hotel in downtown Siem Reap. Maybe the closest would be a car ride in the Mexican countryside—but not really close. It was amazing. It was nuts. It was total chaos and order.

There was wind and odors and sounds. There were bicycles and motorbikes and cars and trucks and pedestrians, all passing within inches in every direction on both sides. Generally, my Tuk Tuk driver kept to the right side of the road (as God intended—good for you, Cambodia), but that wasn’t necessarily the case for everyone. I hung out the sides like an excited dog hanging out a car window.

There were strange buildings—some of concrete, some of wood, and many cobbled together from sheets of corrugated steel. I saw endless roadside markets. There were weird meats hanging by hooks—whole ribcages. Fruits and vegetables, some familiar, but most unidentifiable. Skinny dogs, just skin and bone.

There were cattle, livestock—or maybe just animals here—roaming the countryside, skinny too. Endless rows of bicycles waited to be used. I saw stands selling golden-painted models of temples and shrines, some small, with rows increasing in size to truly enormous—the size of a queen-size bed.

People, motorbikes, bicycles, and cars moved alongside one another or passed in the opposite direction. I could reach out and touch them. We were all together.

And the smells—there’s no way to record the smells, but I can still smell them.

I took it all in, filming and photographing the whole way, desperate to record it, to keep it. But there’s no way the videos, pictures, or words can truly describe it. I won’t be able to transmit it or keep it, as much as I want to. My memories of it will fade over time, and the pictures and recordings might jog my memory a bit.

But I know I’ll never lose the feeling—the memory of how it felt. I cried, and I could see the smile on my face in the mirror of the Tuk Tuk. Those were tears of joy. I felt alive, like I hadn’t in a very long time—if ever.

I’m truly alive. And I want more—so much more.

PS - Make sure to watch the videos. 😉Read more