Happy Valentine's Day

Jou

We still had the virus when we left Mien Mien on Valentine's Day. It was a very sad day and we hated to leave paradise, but all of our friends had already gone.  We were ready to get out of the dirty beach shack, and we had had enough of Mien Mien's horrible service and bad attitudes.  However, we were going to miss the sweet Cambodian beach workers.  We had arranged transport, through Jou, who assured us that we would be picked up from Mien Mien, at 12:30, by a van.  We wanted to avoid the rock road in a tuk-tuk, and going over the hill, with all of our stuff, even on 2 motorcycles, was out of the question.
At 10:00 Molly had her cleaning bucket on our porch and was pacing.

P- That girl had better not step one foot in this room before our 12:00 check out time! She has not cleaned our room 1 time in 2 weeks, even though we asked her to several times, and now she's going to pace around like she can't wait to get in here and clean.

G- It's just par for the course at this place.

P- I'm glad we're leaving here today.

G- Me too. I'm ready to go and sleep in a clean room, with clean sheets, air con and to not have to sleep in the mosquito net cage.

We went next door to Ritchie's and got egg salad sandwiches and cokes.  At exactly 12:00 we removed our belongings from the hut and waited under one of the 'cabanas'. A tuk-tuk showed up at 12:10 to pick us up. Gladys, always worked up on travel days, especially those involving a bus ride, and already not feeling well, had her anxiety dial turned up to 20!

P- Where the hell is Jou? She assured us that a van would pick us up. I'm not paying extra for that tuk-tuk!!

G- Here she comes now.

P- Jou, what's up with the tuk-tuk?

Jou – I don't know. Wait.  It's ok. It's ok. (she spoke to the tuk-tuk driver).  He say van driver ask him to pick you up and take you to town and he will pick you up there. He is late.

P- And we're not paying for this tuk-tuk. It's included in the price of the ticket right?

Jou- Yes, no pay more, no pay more. It ok.

P- Alright. Thank you, Jou.

Jou- Ok. Bye. 

Even though we had stayed at Mien Mien, we had bonded more with the beach hawkers.  The Mien Mien crew was quite an odd, unfriendly bunch.

G- Hold your titties, Gladys. We must be running late because this mofo is going fast over these rocks.

P- I'm ok. You know how you develop sea legs when you've been on a boat for a while? Well I think I've developed tuk-tuk-titty. I've found a way to sway with the bouncing that keeps them from knocking my teeth out.

G- Well, isn't that nice?!

The tuk-tuk driver made a phone call, then dropped us off in front of a hotel.

Driver – You wait here. Van will pick you up in 15 minutes.

P- He knows where we are and he'll get us here?

Driver – Yes. You wait here. 15 minutes.

G- Ok. Thank you.

P- (to me) Great! We're just being dropped here and how do we even know if the van is going to come pick us up?

G- Gladys! Stop it with the crazy talk. The van is coming to get us. You know this is how things work here. Stop being paranoid.

P- I'm just saying, what would we do if he didn't come to get us?

G- Then we will have been screwed, but we would just get on a different bus. Calm down.

P- Ok. You know I hate riding on these buses.

G- You make it way worse in your head than it really is. Stop thinking! You're working yourself up.

P- No, I'm not making it worse than it really is!  They drive like maniacs!  Way too fast on these 1 and a 1/2 lane roads.

G- On the day that we're intended to die, we will die. Now let it go. There is nothing you can do about it.

Luckily we were approached by a comedic tuk-tuk driver who struck up a conversation with us about, of course, where are we from, where have we been, where are we going. What's even more bizarre than a total stranger asking us all of these questions, information which is none of his business, we always answer them. It's a strange Asian travel thing. This temporarily took Phyls mind off of the impending bus ride.

Sure enough, just as we were told, the van pulled up, albeit 15 minutes late. Already the back compartment was full of backpacks, so I sat in the first seat, next to 2 girls, and held mine between my legs with my day pack on my lap. Phyl got into the middle seat, next to a Frenchman, and stacked her backpack and our large black bag at her feet. (Because we have been unable to mail stuff home, we are carrying an extra bag of stuff, and it is very heavy. We have got to off load this bag because it is impeding our traveling.) The back seat held 3 Australian, college age, bafoons who talked, loudly, the whole trip of being drunk, trying to get laid, and taking drugs.

At our next stop we picked up a man who sat in the passenger seat and kept his backpack between his legs. All the seats were filled, but we made a final stop and took on another man, whose backpack was shoved in the rear compartment and his seat, a plastic blue chair, was placed in a space next to Phyl's bench seat. Thankfully, we did not pick up anyone else.

The drive to Kampot, east of Sihanoukville, was pretty smooth. We put our ipod on to block out the sound of the college age baffoons and watched the green countryside go by. I looked back frequently to make sure that Phyl was ok, and she seemed to have calmed down. The bus driver was not speeding too much and was keeping the honking down to a minimum. The poor bastard on the blue, plastic chair had it the worst because his seat would threaten to fall over with every turn we rounded, and he clung to my seatback to keep himself upright. Several times, to his chagrin, he fell into Phyllis.

After 2 hours we arrived in Kampot. As we had hoped, and expected, a tuk-tuk driver was waiting at the drop off point and agreed to take us to a guesthouse for $1.00. We stopped at 4 guesthouses and all were full. Finally, on a street lined with guesthouses we found a place with real walls, a large bed, no mosquito net, clean sheets, abundant toilet paper, and air con for $14.00. Happy Valentine's Day to us!!

We walked across the street to Blissful Guesthouse, which had been recommended by the comedic tuk-tuk driver in Sihanoukville, and had a few cold beers and dinner. It was only 5:00 pm when we ate dinner, but, excited by our western choices, we made the mistake of eating a mexican dish. It was so nice to lie in bed, sans mosquito net, and watch TV! We were enjoying it very much until the heartburn and mild nauseau started. Phyl didn't lose any of her groceries, but by 2:00 am I found myself sitting on the toilet, unable to get up, with only a plastic basket type garbage can as a barf recepticle. I had no choice but to puke on the floor, but I repurposed the nether region sprayer and washed everything down the drain! I made it through the remainder of the night, nauseous, but in bed and fitfully sleeping. Phyl was knocked out and never heard a thing except the pack of dogs barking at each other outside of our window. Oh well, it was still quieter than our nights on Otres Beach.

The Plague Hits Otres Beach

Finally we had to leave the beach and go into town so that we could get our Vietnamese Visas.  Not wanting to spend another $15.00 and experience the rocky road, Nicole arranged for us to be taken by her motorcycle driver for only $5.00.  We were assured that there would be no problem with both of us fitting on the motorcycle, and instead of going down rock road, we'd go over the hill at the end of our dirt road.  It would be much faster.  We've seen families of 5 on one motorcycle, so we didn't worry.

G- (to the driver) We go to Vietnam Consulate.  You know it?

Driver - Ok, I know.

G- Phyl, I'll get in the middle and you can get on the back. I know you don't want to ride with your breasts pressed against this dude.

P- There's only one set of foot rests for the back.  Where will you put your feet?

G- I'll just hold them out.  Why did we wear our flip flops instead of our Keens?  We're idiots.

P- Yeah, that was not the wisest decision.  Put your feet on top of mine.

G- It's ok.  My once soft feet have heels so hard they could scrape the asphalt right off the road.

P- We're not wearing helmets, so if we crash, your feet will be the least of your problems.  I'm more worried about becoming road kill.

G- G R E A T!

It was a hot day and didn't take long for us to start sweating, our bodies pressed together like stackable lawn chairs.

G- I've never been pressed up against so many strangers in my whole life.  And men at that!

P- Not just pressed against them, but with your legs wrapped around them.

G- I'm trying to keep my legs out to the sides, but it's making my groin hurt.  As luck would have it, this guy is the first smelly person I've encountered in Cambodia.  They're always bathing, and he's the only one with B.O.!! Plus, my lower back is killing me.

P- I'm sorry you're stuck in the middle.  I can smell him too. We'll switch on the way back.

G- Ah! Look.  A field of cows.  Breath deeply.  I never knew I would be so happy to smell cow poop, but it smells better than B.O.

P- I was just thinking the same thing.

We did have to get off the motorcycle and walk to the top of the steep hill before getting back on and riding the rest of the way into town.  He delivered us to the Vietnamese Consulate and we got our visas in only 10 minutes. Then we stopped at the bank and the grocery and were back on our beach chairs by noon.  


During the 2nd week of our stay, fellow beach bums began dropping like flies with a stomach virus. The first few thought they had food poisoning, but it soon became apparent that it was a virus. Vic and Tom had it before they left, then Phyl got it. She seemed fine all day until we went to dinner at Sunshine Cafe.

We were eating with Elizabeth, a new friend from New York, who arrived just before Vic & Tom left, and with whom we started having dinner each night, when Phyl suddenly had to run down the beach, to the vacant lot, to hurl like the exorcist. Pumpkin curry!  It was not pretty.




Back at the shack she spent a very horrible night, up every couple of hours expelling all bodily contents in both directions. The last thing that either of us wanted was to be sick in botulism bathroom!

Phyl spent the next day, on the beach chair, of course, because we never wanted to stay in the room, sipping sprite and eating nothing buy dry bread.  Still, that made her feel nauseous.

That night I went to sleep with terrible heartburn, even though I had only eaten fried rice, and woke up several times during the night with the bird bowels. It adds that extra little bit of fun when you're running for the toilet and have to stop and search the bathroom for roaches before entering. Fortunately, after our first 2 nights, we never saw another roach again, but we were still on guard.

Thankfully, the vomiting & diarrhea lasted only 12 hours, but the virus lasted approximately 1 week with lingering symptoms of mild nausea and heartburn after eating. We stopped eating after 5:00 pm to prevent the nightime heartburn, and didn't even drink beer for 2 days.  We thought for sure that death was near, when beer turned our stomachs.  For 2 weeks after, we would meet other travelers suffering from the same virus.  It was nothing nice.

Yum Yum

Even on the beach there was hierarchy amoung the hawkers. The kids who went to English school were in a better position than those who did not. The kids worked in pairs or groups of 3 while the older women, who spoke much less English, tended to work alone. Most of these people lived in Sihanoukville. At the bottom of the beach food chain were the young children who tended to be wearing dirty clothes and carried large rice bags which they filled with cans and plastic water bottles they collected from the tourists on the beach. These kids probably came from the shacks that lined the rock road on the way to the beach.

Our hearts went out to these children who ranged in age from maybe 5-10 and were both girls and boys, but they tended to hang in groups of 3 or 4 and were separated by gender. It is unlikely that they went to school at all, and they knew only enough English to ask permission to take the cans or bottles sitting around a beach chair. What struck us was their beautiful smiles and the fact that they always said thank you when given a recyclable. Phyl and I started saving our water bottles and cans, even bringing those from the room to the beach with us in the morning so that we could give them to the children. There seemed to be a rule that the kids did not go past the beach chairs and did not take things from the garbage cans under the 'cabanas'.

We noticed on our first day that Victoria and Tom were always surrounded by kids.

G- Vic, why are the kids always around you?

Vic- We bought them treats and Tom let's them play with his phone.

P- What a great idea to buy them treats.  We'll get some when we go to the store.

Vic - I think they're hungry.  Sometimes we buy them bags of fruit.

G- Yes, we've already done that.  Squid too.

When Vic & Tom left, we became the only 'yum-yum' ladies on the beach. Throughout the day the kids would approach us and say, “yum-yum?” We would hand out one treat a day to each kid who asked. It was heartwarming the way one child, having learned of the treats, would bring others so they too could have a treat. What most impressed us is that they understood that each kid could only have 1 treat per day and they were very honest and did not take more than one.

Sometimes we'd buy fruit from Oun or from the older lady who would stand, at the foot our our chairs, and implore us, with her big, brown, sad eyes to buy her fruit. Over the 2 weeks we built up quasi relationships with the beach hawkers and if we said no thank you, they would not press us. Sometimes we would buy, but not each of the numerous time they'd ask us throughout the day.

We confess that, although we didn't enjoy being asked to buy 25 times per day, we did love the freshness and availability of the beach foods, and we had a wide range of options, delivered to our beach chairs.

fruit – carried on the head, on a large, flat, woven, palm leaf disc. Usually pineapples, bananas, dragon fruit, mango, and papaya. The fruit was cut, at your chair, and placed into a small bag, ($2.00) or large bag, ($3.00).



squid – 2 squid ladies walked the beach carrying a long wooden pole over one shoulder. On each side of the pole hung a metal bowl, one filled with squid on skewers, dipping sauce, styrofoam containers, and extra charcoal, the other contained a clay pot filled with lit charcoal and covered by a grill. The squid lady was always pre-cooking some squid, but would sit and add more as needed or cook them longer upon request. These squid (10 for $1.00) were delicious!



boiled crabs – large, spotted crabs that had been boiled and still warm from the sun. The lady would pre- open them so you'd only have to crack the body in half and dig out the meat.  (5 for $3.00)

Langoustines – grilled in a seasoning. Upon order, they were opened, the meat cut so that it would easily come out of the shell, and squirted with lime. The flavor was good, but they tended to be dry.  (5 for $1.00)



Spring rolls – dangerous because the veggies were fresh and definitely washed in tap water, but yummy
(5 for $1.00)

Finally, all of the restaurants served freshly grilled seafood and potatoes; actual potatoes, not french fries.  We ate, for the first time, marlin, which is a beautiful, white, sweet, flakey fish.  We hope to be able to eat it again.

Is That a Worm in Your Butt?

Jenny had an aunt named Srei working the beach who was about 30 years old. She had a cute little helper named Yon, about the age of 16. Srei happened to be the one who asked if we wanted massages at the exact time that we did. We negotiated a price of $5.00 each for an hour long massage which took place on our beach chairs. We were instructed to lie on our stomachs, and were assisted in wiggling out of our bathing suits, as they were pulled down to our waists. The beach workers always watched Phyllis intently and 'could not help but see', her large breasts.

The routine was always the same during each of the 4 times we got massages. The girls would talk to each other, and the passers by who would also sit and chat for a while, as they massaged us. Honestly, for the cost of only $5.00, we would receive an exfoliation and a really good massage.

One day while we were being massaged, and the girls were involved in an intense conversation, the girl massaging me sat facing my feet as she rubbed my legs. I looked over as Phyl's chest was being massaged, and we had a WTF? conversation with our eyes.  Later, we discussed our thoughts.

G- Could you see what the girl was doing as she massaged my legs?

P- No, I was too busy wondering how low Srei was going to go as she massaged my chest. I swear she was making her way down to my nipples when she stopped just short.

G- Well my girl would rub up my leg until her hand hit my crotch, then she'd stop and go back down. At first I thought, well that must have been an accident and I'm sure she'll stop sooner next time. Nope!
She zipped right back up my leg, hit my crotch, then headed back down. This happened for as long as she massaged my legs.

P- It's really no big deal to them. They just don't seem to have the boundaries that we do. You'd think we'd be use to it by now, but I just can seem to stop thinking it's too bizarre for words.

G- I'm not sure how long it will take me to get use to it. I was lying there thinking that she was massaging me like I vacuum.  I push the vacuum under the sofa and keep going until I hit the wall. That's what I do over and over again until I'm finished vacuuming under the sofa. Well, for purposes of my massage, my crotch was the wall.

P- Bwahahahahahahaha!

G- And did you see that guy next to us?

P- No, the one who's part of that honeymoon couple?

G- Yes, him.  He must not be European, maybe Australian or American, because he was wearing long board shorts instead of the usual weanie bikini. Well, he was on his stomach when she rubbed up his legs right into his shorts, up to his ass, without skipping beat. He jumped, lifted his head and looked back at her. When he saw that her head was turned talking to the girl massaging his wife he put his head back down and closed his eyes. It was funny! I wonder what he was thinking.

P- Probably something similar to what we think................ did I order the happy ending massage by mistake?

Up and down the beach tourists were availing themselves of cheap massages. Most of the people were Europeans, much more comfortable with nudity than Americans, and no one batted an eye as boobs escaped or butt cracks saw the sun during the massaging process. Of course the guys wore weanie bikinis and the women skimpy bikinis regardless of age or body fat.  I began to feel uncomfortable being so covered up and wished that I had brought a bikini.  I made a note to get one before arriving on the European beaches. 

G- I'm going swimming.  I want to wash off the oil.

P- Good idea. I love that water.  Besides being so beautiful to look at, it's the perfect temperature.

G- Yes, not frigid like the Pacific, but not quite as warm as the Gulf of Mexico during the summer.

P- Very calm and clear.  I like that I'm not beaten up by waves as I enter the water, and I like that I can see my feet when the water is up to my neck.  Plus there is nothing swimming around in it.

G- I don't know, yesterday I saw a little jelly fish, but that's the first and only one I've seen.

P- Don't tell me that.  You know I hate things like that swimming with me.

G- Well just be on the lookout.  If you hate that there was a jelly fish, have you seen the little leech looking things?

P- No, I haven't!

G- Look, there's one.

P- You're ruining this for me.

G- I keep a very close eye on these things because they scare me.

P- Now who's the wuss?  Why do they scare you?  They are not leeches.

G- Because I'm worried that they laid millions of microscopic babies that swim & crawl into your butt or up your eurethra when you pee.  Then they live in your intestines or bladder, making you sick or causing extreme pain.

P- You might be the most twisted person I know!!  Where do you come up with this shit?

G- I don't just make it up, Ms. Can't Remember Shit!!  Don't you remember that show we watched in Chiang Mai?  Maybe it was on the National Geographic Channel.  Oh, it was Mystery Diagnosis. One segment was about a woman ingested water, in some river in Africa, and got stomach worms, and the other was about some guy who swam in a lake in Asia and got worms in his intestines.  They were both having terrible pains.  The woman's were discovered during a fecal test and the guy found out about them when he shat one out one night.

P- Oh my gawd!!!  I do remember that show.  Thanks Agnes, now I'll be freaked out everytime I swim in the beautiful Gulf of Thailand. You're a freak.

G- Maybe so, but I'm a freak that won't be shitting worms, because I'm a cautious freak!!  I'm going to shower.  Enjoy the remainder of your swim.

P- I'm coming in now too.  You're not leaving me out here alone with the butt worms.



Happy hour started each day at 5:00 pm and the Angkor draft fell from 75 cents to 50 cents per glass. We typically went to the hut between 4:00 – 4:30 to shower so that the water wouldn't be freezing. I haven't yet mentioned that all showers on Otres Beach were cold water only. This was difficult for me to get use to because I like a scalding hot shower. I'd go in while the water in the tank was still slightly warm from the sun, and by the end of the 2 weeks had stopped complaining of my misery. As I showerd water would lap against the wall and floor causing some of the dirt from outside to seep in, but it was still daylight, so I needn't worry about roaches. The walls were plastic over the palm walled hut and were stained and mildewed. The shower head was funky, and we had already wiped the soap dish down the first day we arrived.  It was hard to imagine that we could actually be getting clean in this shower.

P- You finished already?

G- No, there's no water at this time.  You hear that noise?  That's the sound of the sistern being filled from the well.  I'm told that when the noise stops, the water will come on.

P- Yikes!  Water just pumped up from the well?  It's really going to be cold today.

G- Yay!  I can't wait.

P- What are you looking at?

G- I'm watching Jesus lead his yoga class and wondering if they can concentrate with those cows walking around them.

P- I bet you never had cows in your yoga studio.

G- Nope.  But I've never done yoga on a beach before either.

P- You should do a class before we leave.

G- I just might do that, only problem is that it interferes with happy hour.

P- Priorities!

G- I guess mine are misaligned.

This night we ate dinner at Sunshine Cafe, a mellow, hip restaurant & bar down the beach.  We slurped up every last drop of the pumpkin, coconut, & chicken curry.  It was positively divine!

Let the Torture Begin



Oun on left







One plus, and minus of Otres Beach, as with most touristy places in Asia, is the beach hawkers. While it was annoying to have to constantly say “no, thank you”, we developed relationships with, and fondness for, many of the beach hawkers.

Oun (pronounced Ahn) age 18, was a beautiful girl who carried a large, flat, woven palm basket, on her head, filled with fruit (10 pineapples, several bunches of bananas, several papayas, several mango, and a couple of dragon fruit). One day I placed this basket on my head, and could barel hold my neck erect as it weighted about 40 pounds!!!!!

G- Holy shit!  How does she even hold this on her head much less walk on the sand with it?

P- She probably started practicing as soon as she started walking.
G- Oun, this is very heavy.

Oun - Yes, it is, but now, no problem.

Oun, weighed about 100 pounds, and walked up and down the beach, all day long, carrying this basket on her head. She could stand, from a seated position, on the sand, without batting an eye. She had a krama on her head (a cloth circle) upon which she placed the flat basket. Her posture was perfect!  She was very sweet and would stop, sit and chat with us on each pass up and down the beach. She was studying English, for an hour each day, in an English school.  Sometimes we would buy fruit from her, which she would peel in front of us, just to help her out, then we'd give it to the “can children” (I'll explain later) because we knew they were hungry.

Jenny

Jenny (she insisted that this was her real name), age 21, was clearly below Oun on the socio-economic beach food chain. She did not attend English school, and her English was not as good as Oun's, but she was a serious scrapper and worked the crowd with a technique that made her quite busy everyday. Jenny was married and was 5 months pregnant. We took a motherly liking to Jenny and hired her for many services she provided such as: hair removal, massage, and pedicure. Jenny was a very sweet girl!


G- I'd like to send her some things for the baby.

P- That's a good idea, but what would we send?

G- I'm not sure, maybe some cotton clothes?

P- Only tops, they don't wear bottoms.

cutie selling bracelets

G- We'll have to give it some thought because we know they sleep in hammocks and don't use diapers or any of the other crap that American babies “require”.

P- We'll think of something or we can send her some money.


Jenny gave us several hour long massages (2 for $10.00) and half hour foot massages (2 for $3.00) on our beach chairs. When being massaged on the beach you actually receive 2 techniques for the price of one because the grains of sand that get under the masseuses' hands provide a skin exfoliation. Jenny insisted that we should allow her to perform her string hair removal (called threading in the US) on our various body parts, but we continued to resist expecting it to be extremely painful. Ultimately, Victoria talked us into it.

G- I think you should have your moustache removed.

P- I think you should have yours removed.

G- Mine is not black yet. I am in peri-menopause and my moustache is still blonde.

Sweet Jesus! This HURTS!!

P- But when it does turn black, you are going to look like Groucho Marx.

G- Bitch! I know that I'm going to have more hair on my lip than my dad or brother when I hit menopause, but right now I'm good.  You're the only one needing moustache removal.

P- It's going to hurt.

G- Yes, it will, but it'll last longer than cutting it.

P- Whah!

G- Suck it up, Gladys, and have them yanked out. Besides, they do this in the States and it costs a fortune. Jenny will do it for $2.00 and I'll watch and learn how she does it, then I can do it for you for free.

P- I'm sure you'd love to yank out my hairs. Especially when you're pissed off at me.

G- Shut up! I'm only thinking of you when I help you to not look like a goonie-goo-goo woman.

P- But I'll need a job when I get home and maybe I can be the bearded lady at the circus.

G- Hell no, we'll open our own spa where women pay us big bucks to yank out their moustaches.

P- Agnes, I like the way you think!

Phyl finally gave into Jenny's prodding, and my and Victoria's encouragement, and the hair yanking began! Jenny shook some baby powder on Phyl's lip to make the hairs more visible, and began yanking. Poor Phyl!  It hurt so badly that her eyes were watering. I uttered words of encouragement, but she responded with curses and evil stares. I couldn't help but laugh, but that made matters worse. It didn't seem like a very long process to me, but Phyl thought it had taken an hour.

Jenny then turned her attention to me.

Jenny – I do your legs.

G- No thanks, Jenny. It would take too long and hurt too much.

Jenny – Not hurt too much.

G- Easy for you to say.

P- Oh, I see. You thought it was funny when she was doing it to me, but now you're afraid.

G- My legs have 500 times the amount of hair that your little lip had.

Jenny – It last long time.

Victoria – You should do it. It's great.

G-  Victoria, I've been shaving my legs for longer than you've been alive.  Those hairs probably have roots that reach to my bones.  Jenny, I just shaved last night, so if I decide to let you torture me, shouldn't I wait until the hair grows out a little?

Jenny – Yes. We do in 3 days.

G- Ok, you can do it in 3 days and I won't shave until then.

Every day Jenny would stop at our beach chairs and inspect my legs. In fact, we were beginning to feel like pieces of meat because every beach hawker would stop at our beach chairs and say hello while they looked us over from head to toe, and told us that we should avail ourselves of their hair extraction services or pedicures or manicures. I would tell them all that Jenny was already booked to yank out my hair.

G- I wish they'd stop looking at us like that.

P- It's very rude.

G- It's like we're giant hairballs and they just want to jump us and rid us of our affliction, for a price, of course.

P- I do feel like a piece of meat at the butcher shop. It's hard to just ignore them.



When the day finally arrived, it took an hour and a half for Jenny & an assistant to rip the hairs out of my legs. It was quite painful and the few beers that I pounded before the torture began did little to numb my follicles. Phyl took a sick satisfaction in watching me squirm and insisted that leg hair removal was still not as painful as lip hair removal. She was probably right, and I apparently didn't squirm or cry enough because she soon lost interest and went into the hut to shower. Because my tattoo was less than a week old, Jenny was very careful yanking out the hairs under the tattoo. When it was finally over, I paid Jenny $8.00, regained my breath, and went into the botulism bathroom to shower.

I was so happy with the results of the leg hair removal that several days later I also had my armpits done.  The armpits were much more painful then the legs, but still worth it.





We ate a very delicious dinner, at Mien Mien, with Vic & Tom.  They ate curry dishes and we had a stir fried dish of squid, eggplant, garlic & shallots.
P- OMG!  This is slap yo momma good!

G- Yes it is. I know we always share a dish, but we should've each gotten our own. 

P- Order another.

G- Also, this wine is fantastic.  The only good wine we've had in Asia. (We had found a bottle of Montepulcciano d-Abruzzo at the grocery.)

P- (to Vic & Tom) Are you wine drinkers?

Vic - Yes, we like wine. 

Tom - Australia has good wines.

G- Yes, we know, but we're partial to Italians.  You want to taste it?

Tom & Vic - Oh, it's very good.

P- Sorry we're not sharing with you, but there was only this one bottle and we may not have good wine again until we get to Italy.

Tom & Vic - Oh, we totally understand.  If we had a nice bottle of wine, we wouldn't share it either.  They sell a decent bottle of an Australian here.  We'll get that.

We had a very fun evening laughing and drinking wine with Vic & Tom, and came to really like them. Over the next week we would cut up with them during the day and ate dinner with them several times.  It was great to have friends to do things with.  We really miss our friends back home.

Jesus Has Been Paroled

A new day, 7:00 AM, another attempt at getting 2 mugs of hot water.  While we sat on our porch, waiting patiently, a miracle happened........

G- Phyl, look!!  It's Jesus!

P- What?

G- Over there.  It's Jesus!  And he's wearing a blue sarong and a white, crocheted vest.

P- It's strange that Jesus is on Otres Beach, he's usually found in prison.

G- Maybe he's been paroled.

We later met Jesus, an Italian yoga instructor named Gregorio.  He was very nice and more than a little eccentric.  He'd smile at us and made funny little bird whistling sounds.  Sometime he'd take our hands in his and we'd grin at each other because we couldn't help but sing.................... 'Put your hand in the hand of the man who stills the water'....... We'd crack ourselve up singing this after Jesus had left.

Nicole

Nicole - (a laid back Aussie in the hut next to us)  Hey girls!  How'd you sleep.

P- The usual. Fine between 2:00 am and 6:00 am. 

G- Thank Gawd we just lie on the beach all day.

Nicole - I'm going to order breakfast.  I'll remind them about your water.

G & P - Thanks.  And see if they'll give you a roll of toilet paper.

Nicole - I need a roll too.

Tom & Victoria, a young Australian couple, walked up.

Victoria - We need toilet paper too.

Victoria & Tom

Tom - My stomach was bad last night and I ran out of toilet paper.

G- Of course you did, because our toilet paper supply is rationed like it's war time.

Tom - I had to use the sprayer.

P- Oh no!  We can't use the sprayer in our bathroom.  It's disgusting!!

Tom - It's not so bad.

G- Tom, ours has some kind of florescent orange fungus growing on the section where the water comes out.  No way in hell is that water touching my most delicate area.  I think it could cause a disease worse than any venereal disease currently known to man.

P- Yes, we'd like to avoid an apocalyptic venereal disease.

Tom - I had no choice.



a little dirt on the ice never hurt anyone

 Victoria - We asked for toilet paper last night because we only had a little bit left, but they had no more and told us they were waiting for a delivery today.


Nicole - Ridiculous!

G- Last night I asked Juo for some and she exclaimed, in an exasperated tone, "I just gave you a roll yesterday."


P- It was crazy!  I told her the rolls are so small that there's maybe 100 squares on each roll, and we use a lot of it.

G- I know. Hello!  Most foreigners have the runs almost everyday and we need twice as much as we'd normally use at home.  These rolls are 1/4 of the size of the ones we have at home.



internet cafe in background



P- And we need even more with the stomach virus going around, so get us some tp or we're going to shred our sheets and use that!

Victoria - Well Tom can usually get toilet paper from Lei (Molly) because she has the hots for him.





That's how we knew she understood what we were asking.  She may have pretended not to understand English and only giggled and looked at us with a blank (box of rocks) stare when we asked for something, but let Tom make a request and she would suddenly speak English better than you or I, and could walk on water to fill his request. Vic came out of her hut one morning to find Molly sitting on their porch, asking for Tom, who was still asleep.  She had probably been sitting there since rearranging our porch chairs at 6:30 AM.

Nicole managed to speak to the right person and finally got our water.  The toilet paper delivery motorcycle arrived and we all ran to the desk for our daily ration of tiny toilet paper rolls.  We dressed and assumed our positions on our beach chairs.

Battle at the Botulism Bowl

Our first night in the hut, and we had to do battle with a roach. Phyl was brushing her teeth when she saw the movement out of the corner of her eye.


P- Argh!

G- What?

P- A roach! It ran down the wall and under the bags.

G- Ugh! I hope we're not going to be terrorized by roaches while we're here.

P- Kill it!

G- Whah! You know I hate killing them.

P- Don't let it get away!

I grabbed a shoe and moved the bag. The roach ran out and headed under the bed. I smashed it with the shoe and it died quickly.

G- Huh. That was easy enough.

P- Why did you use my shoe?

G- Because I didn't want to use mine. You want to use my shoe, you kill the roach next time.

P- Very funny. Push it under the bed and we'll get someone to pick it up tomorrow.

G- These Cambodian roaches aren't as strong as Nola roaches. That sucker died with one hit. I'd have to hit a Nola roach 6 times and still the bastard might not die.

P- I don't think that one flies either.

G- That's one good thing.

We got into bed and securely tucked the dusty mosquito net under the mattress. We didn't care for the caged in feeling, but were happy to have some protection against mosquitoes and roaches. The next morning we told Nicole about the roach.

P- I hate them so much and they give me the creeps.

Nicole – We have roaches in Australia, so I'm use to them. Call me the next time you see one.

G- Use to them? Believe me, New Orleans is roach Mecca, but I'll never get use to them.

P- Ours fly. You'll try to kill one and it'll fly at you like some crazy kamikaze.

Nicole – They fly? I've never seen one fly.

G- Yeah! It's terrifying!

The next night Phyl was securely tucked into the bed box and I was using the bathroom one final time when I caught some movement near the pipe, on the wall, beside the toilet. A lifetime of experience told me what it was. I jumped off the toilet and grabbed the sprayer in one fluid motion. He was a big one, maybe 2.5 inches long! The first spray of water knocked him off the wall and onto the floor. Then he reared up like the Lone Rangers horse and thrashed his front claws at me. I sprayed him again.

G- Argh!!!!!!!

P- What's wrong?

G- Damn roach! I can't even pee in peace.

P- Don't let him get into the room.

G- The son of a bitch keeps running behind the toilet!

I would spray him from the right and he'd run behind the toilet to the left. Then I'd spray from the left and he’d run to the right. Finally, after 5 times back and forth he was exhausted and water logged and I gained the upper hand. With my pants still at my knees I sprayed him right out of the drain hole cut into the wall.

G- Yay! I hope he doesn't come back during the night seeking revenge.

P- Stop playing with the insects and get in bed.

The morning after killing the first roach, which had been carried across the room by ants and partially devoured by morning, Molly came in to sweep it up. She then proceeded to sweep around the room, sending a toxic cloud of dust into the air, that promptly covered all of our belongings. We certainly didn't want that to happen again, so after a week of sleeping in one bed (I was sleeping in my Sleep Sac on top of the sheet and there was no top sheet, only a blanket that was too thick for the climate.) we asked Molly to clean the room.

P- Did she say when she'd clean the room?

G- She just giggled. I asked her not to sweep, to just change the sheets and empty the garbage can. The bathroom smells like shit.

P- Well we do throw all of our toilet paper into that garbage can since we're not allowed to flush it.
G- I already emptied the garbage 2 times.

P- How'd you get extra bags?

G- I took them from the garbage cans under the 'cabanas'. We can't get our garbage cans emptied in our rooms, but the 'cabana' cans are emptied everyday.

After 2 days and repeated requests to Molly & Juo, we gave up and just switched to the other bed. Once the sun went down it was too dark in our hut to see the dirt anyway.  So, our days were spent in a beautiful paradise, our nights in a nasty hovel. Really, we had the opportunity to switch to a nicer room across the road, but we just couldn't leave the beach and the sound of the surf.

Hot Water, PLEASE!!!!!!

So began our time on Otres Beach. We settled into a very nice pattern and our initial 3 days turned into 2 weeks. Our beach hut was a structure that we never wanted to enter, but we couldn't bare to leave. Mien Mein's staff was to customer service what Hitler was to world peace, but we couldn't bare to leave. Every night our sleep was interrupted by the loud music eminating from the bar/restaurant next door, and by the drunk, loud talking of the Russians who were staying at Mien Mien, but still we couldn't bare to leave.

Each morning we were awakened between 6:00 am – 6:30 am by the Mien Mien staff, but we still couldn't bare to leave. Apparently everyone else felt similarly because every person we spoke to had arrived on Otres Beach intending to stay a few days, but had ended up staying a week, several weeks, a month, several months, or had opened a bar on Otres and never left. Phyl described the beach was like human fly paper, once you arrived you were stuck.




G- OMG!  Why does Molly have to sweep and rearrange our porch furniture at 6:30 am? (We called her Molly, because she did not seem very bright, and this is the name of our friends' dog, who they also call Box of Rocks.  We had asked Molly her name several times but had never gotten more than a giggle.  Molly was about 15 years old.)

P- Um, because she's not real bright?  Because none of them give a damn that we're trying to sleep?

G- It would help if we could close the window, but then we'd smother.

P- These walls are so thin, closing the window would do nothing but make us sweat.

We never wanted to spend much time in the hut, so once awake, we'd dress, sit on our porch, and watch the morning sun shimmer on the Gulf of Thailand.  Each morning we would go to the bar and request 2 mugs of hot water for our instant coffee, and each morning it was like an act of Congress to get the water.

P- Did you ask for the water?

G- I did. We'll see how long it takes today for us to get it.

20 minutes passed

P- I'll go see if they forgot about it.

G- No, I think I see Molly putting something on a tray. Maybe that's our water.

P- It's about damn time. I could have dug a well, pumped up water, rubbed sticks together to start a fire, and boiled it in that amount of time.

G- Shit!

P- What?

G- She's bringing our water, but she's bringing it in a tall glasses without handles. 
(to Molly, smiling) Ah-coon! (thank you)
(to Phyllis) Now how in the hell are we supposed to drink from these glasses?  They're so hot I can't even pick mine up.



Perom



P- I'll go grab 2 mugs.

G- Get a spoon while you're at it.




Every day we went through something similar with the water. One would think that after the second morning, it would be excruciatingly obvious that we want 2 mugs of hot water and, at least, 1 spoon. But no, every morning we'd sit on our porch and either make the request to a passing worker (which they may or may not remember in the time it takes to walk 10 yards to the bar) or walk to the bar to make the request. Never, not once in 2 weeks, did one of the workers see us and acknowledge, before being asked, that we wanted 2 mugs of water and simply get the damn water!!!  Not once.  It became a joke, because even the other guests would pass and ask if we wanted them to remind the workers that we were still waiting for our water. Several days we'd get the water in a timely manner, sans spoon. One morning we waited patiently for 45 minutes.

P- This is so screwed up!  I've never known people to have less common sense.

G- I really hate to make sweeping generalizations, but we've been saying all across Asia that common sense seems to be lacking.

P- I know.  I can't understand it.  They can figure out how to move a sofa on a motorcycle, but common sense for daily tasks is non-existant!

G- Like sharing food.  We order one dish, they ask if we're going to share, we say yes, then they bring only 1 fork or 1 pair of chop sticks.

P- It's so frustrating!!!

G- Yes it is, but we're in paradise!

P- Yes we are.

We were usually on our beach chairs by 10:00 am. The days passed with amazing speed considering all we did was sit, read, write, swim, drink, eat, and visit with the beach hawkers.  Every night we would enjoy a beautiful sunset.