The Real Sihanoukville

Just when I started to lose hope in breaking free from the “beach holiday” scene, I decided to go for a little walk into a different part of the city--I knew there had to be more here that I wasn’t seeing.

I walked into town and made a right, then ventured off the main road into a sprawling dirt road community. I walked all of 50 feet before bumping into my first group of kids eager to practice their English with the strange westerner who had wandered into their neighborhood. They didn’t want money, only to talk, and even requested that I take their picture. I obliged and then showed it to them on the LCD screen; they were delighted.

Eventually, after countless twists, turns, hellos and goodbyes, I came to the end of the tiny road and realized that I was not where I wanted to be. I wasn’t worried, there were plenty of people around to point me in the right direction, but they all spoke Khmer. I set to work trying to communicate, mostly using the kids as translators for the adults, and eventually got pointed in the right direction. I made it all the way back to the first group of kids I met, who proceeded to draw me a map in the sand of how I was to get to the top of Sihanoukville Mountain, and the Buddhist Wat that sat atop it.

It was a long walk to the top of the mountain, and it was hot. After 30 minutes or so, I made it to the top and wandered into a shady little gathering of huts and Buddhist sculptures. I stayed there for a bit, enjoying the shade and breeze, before moving on down the road to the temple.

On the stairs leading up to the temple, I came across a small group of very friendly children. They spotted me and came running, yelling as they descended the stairs.

“Hello Photo! Hello Photo! Photo! Photo! Hello!”

Something along those lines. The surrounded me, introducing themselves one by one before asking me to take some pictures of them. Again, nothing to sell, no demands for “1 dolla,” nothing at all. They were genuinely interested in playing with me and posing for photos.

I couldn’t stop smiling.

They were so happy, so real, so untouched by the tourism of the rest of the city. They were the real Sihanoukville I had been searching for since arriving here 2 days ago. I spent almost an hour with them, taking pictures, laughing, playing. They spoke very little English so I had to make an effort to communicate without words, it was interaction at a most primal level. I connected with them and they with me, no words needed.

Eventually their parents called them back home for dinner and I headed up the stairs to the temple, waving goodbye to the group. When I made it to the top of the stairs, a pair of young monks greeted me. Smiles across their faces, they took my hand and pulled me towards one of the buildings in the complex. I soon realized that the building was full of other monks, all eating dinner. I motioned for my guides to leave me behind; I didn’t want to intrude. Ignoring my reluctance, they continued to laugh and smile, tugging on my arm—I removed my shoes and followed them inside.

I ate dinner with an entire community of Buddhist monks.

During the meal, one of the younger monks, probably around my age, approached me and began to explain, in English, what was going on. He told me that it wasn’t often that a westerner walked up from the city to visit them and that when someone did come, especially during meal times, they made an effort to be as hospitable as possible.

Today I discovered a part of the real Sihanoukville. I took a step off the beaten path and was rewarded with an experience I will never forget.

Photos from my walk today can be found in the new Sihanoukville, Cambodia set on Flickr.

CLICK HERE