Almost immediately, I became committed to the idea of investigating this madhouse of a country and its foreign-born inmates. I wanted to understand the details of this country which seemed to consist entirely of the perversion of what would be called 'normal' in many other societies. I also wanted to understand the attractions that this country held for the people who chose to come here to live. Finally, I was determined to successfully relate all of this to those who have never been to Cambodia. Between September 1996 and October 1997, I made several more trips to Phnom Penh, each time taking about a month off from my less-than-explosive journalistic career in Viet Nam. The standard place to eat and sleep for backpackers, low-budget visa runners, and also many longer-term residents in Phnom Penh is the sadly misnamed Majestic Restaurant and Guesthouse. During my visits I spent my time, using the Majestic as a base, learning about a range of extraordinary lifestyles from the people who were actually living them. I talked with them over quick breakfasts before their classes, and over long lunches before their brothel trips. I listened quietly as they talked in groups, and I interviewed them earnestly one on one.
Most of my conversations revolved around the sensationalistic aspects of living in Phnom Penh, and all of these are addressed throughout this book covering: The bizarre political system, and the anarchy and violence that result; the permissiveness and recklessness regarding sex, AIDS, and drugs; the ease with which the foreigners earn money from the Khmers; some interesting observations about the foreigners of Phnom Penh; and observations on the Khmers themselves. While these chapters detail the more outrageous aspects of life in Phnom Penh, there are other, more subtle facets of living in the Kingdom of Cambodia that make it a mind-altering experience. It was these subtleties, as much as the sex, drugs and violence, that entranced me to Cambodia.
Khmer culture undeniably accommodates one of the world's greatest artistic traditions. No matter how many times I go past the Royal Palace, it never ceases to amaze me. The beautiful colors, the intricate patterns, the four giant faces looking out from the top of the central tower. It's as if, just by appreciating it, I'm somehow a part of this monumental culture.
As millions of tourists and travelers will attest, the massive size and incredible artistry of Angkor Wat, the country's greatest monument, is an easy way to understand the glory of the Khmer Empire and the cultural heights it reached. But the strength of Khmer culture is not limited to monuments. I have traveled all around East Asia and the popular radio stations play American rock and roll, or dreadful local imitations of American rock and roll. Cambodia is the first Asian country I have been to where I actually heard mostly traditional music. And the music itself is so beautiful, the way they slide up and down the scale, all in these mournful minor keys. The very traditional music is played on an ensemble of musical instruments including gongs, bells, drums, and various other string and percussive pieces. As a person not usually given to romanticizing "exotic" cultures, I was totally unprepared for the effect this strange and exquisite music has on me. Whenever they start playing, I always feel as if some part of me is being transported to a mythical Angkorian kingdom of princes, warriors, dancers, and gods.
The clash between this traditional culture and the modern world is part of the energy of Phnom Penh. A journalist remarks that, "This is a society that's been through hundreds of years of agrarian feudalism, twenty-three years of civil war, ten years of Communism and isolation, ten years of foreign occupation, and then the world just flipped a switch and turned Cambodia into this democratic, capitalistic, open, developing country. You think there might be some tension created?"
The fact that the process of Cambodia's 'development' is still in the early stages is clearly an attraction for many. One is constantly jarred by the contrasts. Wealthy generals drive by in Landcruisers or BMW's flanked by bodyguards, past cyclo (three-wheeled pedicab) drivers who own nothing but the cyclo and one change of clothes. While the generals own two or three villas, the cyclo drivers actually live in their cyclos because they can't even afford to rent an $8-a-month shanty. There is an overwhelming rawness that confronts the visitor; the trash in the streets, the little children running around naked, the dust, the unpaved roads, and the shacks. And among all of this one regularly chances upon a beautiful wat (Buddhist temple) rising up into the sky. While stunning in its own right, the sight is even more amazing in the middle of all the shit that surrounds it.
Similarly, many people cite their own bizarre reasons for finding Cambodia so interesting. A long conversation I had with a tourist provided the subtitle for this book. He expounded about why Phnom Penh is nothing less than a real-life version of the movie Apocalypse Now. "Think about it, Apocalypse Now and Heart of Darkness [the Joseph Conrad novel on which the movie is based], are built on the premise of what happens when people live without the normal restraints of society. That's exactly what we're seeing here. The foreigners here have absolutely nothing stopping them from behaving completely irrationally, and completely without judgment or inhibitions. I'm telling you, it's no coincidence that they put Colonel Kurtz in Cambodia."
