You're Going Where For Spring Break?
Reflections on Traveling to Cambodia
Faisal Khan, '07
Posted: 4/13/06
Chicago Business Online
"You're going where for Spring Break?" I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and repeated my destination, which was the same answer I had delivered two seconds earlier. I wasn't going to the Bahamas, or Brazil, or some other sun-drenched location to escape the Chicago winter. No, I patiently told my friends, I was headed for Cambodia.
Perhaps what provided sustenance during such conversations was the fact that I wasn't alone in selecting this unusual spring break destination. I would be joining a group of eleven intrepid GSB students as part of Chicago Global Citizens. A young organization founded only last summer, we had spent six months working on two Cambodian projects - one to provide consulting services to a microfinance institution, and the other to raise funds for a Cambodian children's book and school library. Upon successful conclusion of our efforts, we were headed to Cambodia to see the fruits of our labor.
Our team arrived in Phnom Penh over two days. Although my wife and I were held up a day in Los Angeles due to arcane immigration proceedings (traveling as a South Asian presents its own challenges), the remaining GSB students and Dean Stacey Kole were in Phnom Penh by Monday morning. While I was stuck cooling my heels in LA, being asked important questions ("you're going where for Spring break?"), I tried to think of my colleagues starting their official visits, first to the microfinance institution, and then to Room to Read (a US-based NGO), where they would be thumbing through the children's storybooks that we had helped fund. But what saddened me the most was being unable to visit a local school, where CGC had assisted in opening a brand new computer lab for students. Oh well.
Help finally arrived in the form of "missing documentation", and my wife and I left LA Monday evening - by Tuesday afternoon, we were in Phnom Penh. After reuniting with the rest of our team, we set off for the US Embassy for a meeting with the US Ambassador to Cambodia, Joseph Mussomeli. I had never met an ambassador before, but if they are anything like Ambassador Mussomeli, then they are an interesting breed. For over an hour we were treated to a candid evaluation of Cambodian history, US Southeast Asian foreign policy, and the challenges of doing work in that part of the world. Ambassador Mussomeli's conversation was sprinkled with his interesting sense of humor - some of which had us wondering how to respond (next time you see Dean Kole, ask her about this...). Before any diplomatic transgressions could occur, the Ambassador hustled out for his next appointment, and we quickly departed for our next destination, the infamous "S-21."
Several of Cambodia's tourist attractions revolve around its tumultuous past, and S-21 (better known as the Torture Museum) is no different. However, upon arrival you will find yourself standing in a courtyard for a former primary school, admiring the pretty flowers growing in urns sprinkled along the sidewalks. Rewind a few decades, and you will be standing at a torture facility where the Khmer Rouge fashioned one of the most gruesome concentration camps this side of WW II. The exhibits here were simple, but the stories they conveyed were powerful - a simple reminder of the brutality human beings are capable of.
From there it was back to the hotel, a quick shower (yes, our second shower - it was 90 degrees the whole time we were in Cambodia), and then off to dinner near the pleasant riverfront district. Tuesday morning started early, as do most mornings in Phnom Penh since businesses are up and running by 7 a.m. Having completed the official segment of our visit, it was time to let loose and act as tourists. What better way to do so than to head to the local marketplace for a test of our business negotiation and bargaining skills?
The "Russian Market" is Phnom Penh's version of the Arabian souk - one vast maze of tiny shops crammed on top of each other, with vendors enticing you from behind mounds of goods piled high. Not only did we discover collectibles, souvenirs and trinkets, but also home improvement tools, spare bike parts, and dried fish. After some hard bargaining and with traditional souvenirs tucked away (no spare bike engines for us), we headed next to the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek.
The Cambodians don't bother with naming niceties - to them sites are simply "Torture Museums," "Killing Fields," or some such stark reminder of their past suffering. From 1975 to 1979, Pol Pot and his Khmer Rouge soldiers killed 1.7 million Cambodians, or 21 percent of the population. A soccer field-sized area surrounded by farmland, the killing fields contain slightly sunken mass graves for perhaps 20,000 Cambodians, many of whom were tortured before being killed. As with the Torture Museum, displays were simple, but powerful. The most impactful was a tower erected in the middle of the fields - the sight of 8,000 skulls in a glass shrine easily stuns you into silence. It was hard not to feel an indescribable depression in that place.
From there we bid farewell to Dean Kole (who had to continue onwards to Singapore), showered (yet again), and piled into our van for a 6 hour ride to Siem Reap, site of legendary Angkor Wat. As we left the bustling capital city of Phnom Penh, I realized how easy it was to forget that the rural majority of Cambodia lives in stark contrast to the urban minority. Still, for a city-dwelling western tourist such as me, it was refreshing to look out the van window and observe village life move past at its own leisurely pace.
By nightfall we were in Siem Reap, and were instantly struck by the liveliness of the small town. There were pedestrians and bikes and buses and tourists everywhere, with the largest or fastest moving object claiming right of way. Surrounding this chaos rose massive five star resorts and hotels. After checking in to our various hotels, we headed into town for some nightlife action, which lasted until midnight. By the time we dragged ourselves into bed, it was 1 a.m.
The alarm woke me at 4:30 a.m., and I realized that I was already running late for a chartered van that would take us to Angkor Wat, 20 minutes outside of town, for a sunrise tour. Somehow I managed to get ready in time, and soon found myself standing on a long, stone causeway. Our guide assured us that this was where we wanted to be, but the darkness made it hard to tell what it was that we were looking at. That is, until the sun started coloring the sky purple.
Angkor Wat is the largest religious complex in the world, and easily covers five city blocks. Built by hand over twelve hundred years ago, the building can only be described as majestic. The hush that fell on the crowd was unprompted but inevitable - you can't help but have your breath taken away as the morning light slowly reveals the size and splendor that is Angkor Wat.
For the rest of the day our guide walked us around the temple complex, explaining the stories behind the intricate wall carvings, exploring half-mile long corridors, and guiding us up steep, terraced steps to the top of the domes for magnificent views of the countryside. The inner courtyards and terraces were unreal, and to many of us it felt like we could sense the past presence of saffron-robed monks around every corner. On the other hand, to my Hollywood-ized mind, I easily imagined martial artists battling Indiana Jones in the colonnaded courtyards.
We visited several other temples through the afternoon. For me, the most memorable was Ta Prohm, a temple that is more beautiful because of its relationship with its environment. Purposefully left untended, the jungle has slowly been reclaiming the land, cracking and squeezing walls and prying stones apart. Great blocks that fell centuries ago lay on the jungle floor covered in ferns and bushes. The canopy of trees which overhung the whole site obstructed the sunlight, creating a strange green half-light. Ta Prohm was magical, a strange harmony of stone and vegetation which will one day disappear forever into the soil of the jungle.
We had many more Cambodian experiences after our Angkor Wat visit - the partying and reveling, viewings of traditional Khmer dances, shopping for souvenirs (and the haggling over prices - oh, the haggling!), visits to landmine museums (yes, again the stark naming) and the floating villages of Tonle Sap, the quick flights back to Phnom Penh, and then the goodbyes as each of us left the country in ones and twos.
As I looked out my plane window at the Cambodian countryside growing ever smaller, I realized that what will remain with me are memories of the people of Cambodia. Twenty years ago, the Cambodians were still reeling from the effects of civil war, ethnic cleansing, genocide, and dictators the like of Pol Pot. But the people today are lifting their country back into the modern world through sheer force of will. I settled back into my seat for the 22 hour flight home, happy to know that we, as business leaders of tomorrow who will soon be debating salaries and full-time job offers, had been able to make a tangible, concrete difference in a community far removed from our GSB home. However, one question continued to tug at me - what exciting destination would CGC be heading to next year?
Perhaps what provided sustenance during such conversations was the fact that I wasn't alone in selecting this unusual spring break destination. I would be joining a group of eleven intrepid GSB students as part of Chicago Global Citizens. A young organization founded only last summer, we had spent six months working on two Cambodian projects - one to provide consulting services to a microfinance institution, and the other to raise funds for a Cambodian children's book and school library. Upon successful conclusion of our efforts, we were headed to Cambodia to see the fruits of our labor.
Our team arrived in Phnom Penh over two days. Although my wife and I were held up a day in Los Angeles due to arcane immigration proceedings (traveling as a South Asian presents its own challenges), the remaining GSB students and Dean Stacey Kole were in Phnom Penh by Monday morning. While I was stuck cooling my heels in LA, being asked important questions ("you're going where for Spring break?"), I tried to think of my colleagues starting their official visits, first to the microfinance institution, and then to Room to Read (a US-based NGO), where they would be thumbing through the children's storybooks that we had helped fund. But what saddened me the most was being unable to visit a local school, where CGC had assisted in opening a brand new computer lab for students. Oh well.
Help finally arrived in the form of "missing documentation", and my wife and I left LA Monday evening - by Tuesday afternoon, we were in Phnom Penh. After reuniting with the rest of our team, we set off for the US Embassy for a meeting with the US Ambassador to Cambodia, Joseph Mussomeli. I had never met an ambassador before, but if they are anything like Ambassador Mussomeli, then they are an interesting breed. For over an hour we were treated to a candid evaluation of Cambodian history, US Southeast Asian foreign policy, and the challenges of doing work in that part of the world. Ambassador Mussomeli's conversation was sprinkled with his interesting sense of humor - some of which had us wondering how to respond (next time you see Dean Kole, ask her about this...). Before any diplomatic transgressions could occur, the Ambassador hustled out for his next appointment, and we quickly departed for our next destination, the infamous "S-21."
Several of Cambodia's tourist attractions revolve around its tumultuous past, and S-21 (better known as the Torture Museum) is no different. However, upon arrival you will find yourself standing in a courtyard for a former primary school, admiring the pretty flowers growing in urns sprinkled along the sidewalks. Rewind a few decades, and you will be standing at a torture facility where the Khmer Rouge fashioned one of the most gruesome concentration camps this side of WW II. The exhibits here were simple, but the stories they conveyed were powerful - a simple reminder of the brutality human beings are capable of.
From there it was back to the hotel, a quick shower (yes, our second shower - it was 90 degrees the whole time we were in Cambodia), and then off to dinner near the pleasant riverfront district. Tuesday morning started early, as do most mornings in Phnom Penh since businesses are up and running by 7 a.m. Having completed the official segment of our visit, it was time to let loose and act as tourists. What better way to do so than to head to the local marketplace for a test of our business negotiation and bargaining skills?
The "Russian Market" is Phnom Penh's version of the Arabian souk - one vast maze of tiny shops crammed on top of each other, with vendors enticing you from behind mounds of goods piled high. Not only did we discover collectibles, souvenirs and trinkets, but also home improvement tools, spare bike parts, and dried fish. After some hard bargaining and with traditional souvenirs tucked away (no spare bike engines for us), we headed next to the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek.
The Cambodians don't bother with naming niceties - to them sites are simply "Torture Museums," "Killing Fields," or some such stark reminder of their past suffering. From 1975 to 1979, Pol Pot and his Khmer Rouge soldiers killed 1.7 million Cambodians, or 21 percent of the population. A soccer field-sized area surrounded by farmland, the killing fields contain slightly sunken mass graves for perhaps 20,000 Cambodians, many of whom were tortured before being killed. As with the Torture Museum, displays were simple, but powerful. The most impactful was a tower erected in the middle of the fields - the sight of 8,000 skulls in a glass shrine easily stuns you into silence. It was hard not to feel an indescribable depression in that place.
From there we bid farewell to Dean Kole (who had to continue onwards to Singapore), showered (yet again), and piled into our van for a 6 hour ride to Siem Reap, site of legendary Angkor Wat. As we left the bustling capital city of Phnom Penh, I realized how easy it was to forget that the rural majority of Cambodia lives in stark contrast to the urban minority. Still, for a city-dwelling western tourist such as me, it was refreshing to look out the van window and observe village life move past at its own leisurely pace.
By nightfall we were in Siem Reap, and were instantly struck by the liveliness of the small town. There were pedestrians and bikes and buses and tourists everywhere, with the largest or fastest moving object claiming right of way. Surrounding this chaos rose massive five star resorts and hotels. After checking in to our various hotels, we headed into town for some nightlife action, which lasted until midnight. By the time we dragged ourselves into bed, it was 1 a.m.
The alarm woke me at 4:30 a.m., and I realized that I was already running late for a chartered van that would take us to Angkor Wat, 20 minutes outside of town, for a sunrise tour. Somehow I managed to get ready in time, and soon found myself standing on a long, stone causeway. Our guide assured us that this was where we wanted to be, but the darkness made it hard to tell what it was that we were looking at. That is, until the sun started coloring the sky purple.
Angkor Wat is the largest religious complex in the world, and easily covers five city blocks. Built by hand over twelve hundred years ago, the building can only be described as majestic. The hush that fell on the crowd was unprompted but inevitable - you can't help but have your breath taken away as the morning light slowly reveals the size and splendor that is Angkor Wat.
For the rest of the day our guide walked us around the temple complex, explaining the stories behind the intricate wall carvings, exploring half-mile long corridors, and guiding us up steep, terraced steps to the top of the domes for magnificent views of the countryside. The inner courtyards and terraces were unreal, and to many of us it felt like we could sense the past presence of saffron-robed monks around every corner. On the other hand, to my Hollywood-ized mind, I easily imagined martial artists battling Indiana Jones in the colonnaded courtyards.
We visited several other temples through the afternoon. For me, the most memorable was Ta Prohm, a temple that is more beautiful because of its relationship with its environment. Purposefully left untended, the jungle has slowly been reclaiming the land, cracking and squeezing walls and prying stones apart. Great blocks that fell centuries ago lay on the jungle floor covered in ferns and bushes. The canopy of trees which overhung the whole site obstructed the sunlight, creating a strange green half-light. Ta Prohm was magical, a strange harmony of stone and vegetation which will one day disappear forever into the soil of the jungle.
We had many more Cambodian experiences after our Angkor Wat visit - the partying and reveling, viewings of traditional Khmer dances, shopping for souvenirs (and the haggling over prices - oh, the haggling!), visits to landmine museums (yes, again the stark naming) and the floating villages of Tonle Sap, the quick flights back to Phnom Penh, and then the goodbyes as each of us left the country in ones and twos.
As I looked out my plane window at the Cambodian countryside growing ever smaller, I realized that what will remain with me are memories of the people of Cambodia. Twenty years ago, the Cambodians were still reeling from the effects of civil war, ethnic cleansing, genocide, and dictators the like of Pol Pot. But the people today are lifting their country back into the modern world through sheer force of will. I settled back into my seat for the 22 hour flight home, happy to know that we, as business leaders of tomorrow who will soon be debating salaries and full-time job offers, had been able to make a tangible, concrete difference in a community far removed from our GSB home. However, one question continued to tug at me - what exciting destination would CGC be heading to next year?
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