Scambodia: A Drama in Two Acts

Act I, Prologue

Our border-bound train left Bangkok at 5:55am. We had third class tickets, so we arrived early to ensure that we got seats. It was a good thing, too. The train was packed by the time it pulled out of the station. Passengers got on and off at various stops, but I think a few people had to stand during the entire 6-hour ride to the border.

Added to the crowding was the lack of A/C. The train windows were open, letting in a nice breeze and lots of dust. We jolted along, drifting in and out of sleep.

We arrived at the final stop - Aranyaprathet - around 11:45. A whole slew of tuk-tuk drivers greeted us, ready to take us to the border crossing. One of the guys in our group negotiated a price and we hopped in.

Act I, Scam I
Aranyaprathet, Thailand

Our driver pulls off the road at a small building with a few picnic tables out front. A sign out front advertises their visa services. A man greets us and hands us some blank forms. We sit down next to a fellow traveler and start writing. A minute passes, and he mutters to me, "Don't trust these guys."

I give him a sideways glance. "Why not?"

"Just don't trust them." He finishes filling out his paperwork and leaves.

I take a look around. None of these guys are in uniforms. It's not a government building. My keen powers of reason tell me we aren't at the border crossing proper.

One of the fellows comes over to check our progress and to tell us he needs one small photo. He also tells us our visas would cost 1,200 baht (about $36).

Being the savvy travelers we are, we had done our research beforehand. We knew the visas should cost $20. We argue with the guy, telling him it should be $20 and that we don't have 1,200 baht.

He tries to tell us that the $20 visas took three days. We know he's lying, call him a cheat, and walk back to the tuk tuks. We tell the tuk tuk drivers to take us to the Poipet border crossing. They nod, and we get in.

They start their engines and drive literally to the building right next door - the Cambodian embassy. The visa scam guys walk over and say, "See, it's closed right now - you can't get in that way."

At this point, we're feeling exasperated. We argue with the tuk tuk drivers a little more until they decide to take us to the actual border crossing.

After a very long wait in a very long line, we get through Thai immigration. We wait outside even longer because two from our group didn't have re-entry permits to get back into Thailand. After about an hour of dealing with that, we were on our way toward Cambodia.

I spot a sign that says "Visas on Arrival" and we head in that direction, but we're soon stopped by a uniformed man directing us to a health inspection tent. Everyone here is paranoid about swine flu. We fill out a short questionnaire and have our temperatures taken.

I think the Cambodians don't understand the spread of infectious disease, because there was none of this sanitizing-the-thermometer-between-uses business. It was an ear thermometer, but still.

Finally, we're on our way to acquire our visas.

Act I, Scam II
Poipet Border Crossing, Cambodia

We walk up to the visa office and find three government workers standing around shooting the breeze. Passports in hand, we tell them we need tourist visas.

No problem, they say, we just need one photo, $20, and 200 baht. We look at each other. Alyssa points at the sign above the window, "But that just says $20."

"There's a 200 baht service fee."
"That's not what the sign says."
"It's a service fee."
"Okay, but I'll need a receipt for my fee."
"Alright, it's a 100 baht service fee."

Interesting. I didn't know "fees" were negotiable. We argue with them a little longer and decide to pay the "fee."

Fifteen minutes later, we have our visas. We head for yet another office, with another long line and another wait.

After 25 minutes, we're stamped into Cambodia. We walk down the road, looking for transport to Siem Reap. A man in uniform points us toward the free government buses that would take us to the bus station. We could find a ride there, he said.

We hop on and arrive shortly. After much consideration, we choose to take the bus to Siem Reap (as opposed to a taxi).

The bus ride is meant to take about six hours. After two and a half, we pull over and our friendly trip guide, Mr. Lee, informs us that we'll be taking a 40 minute break in the middle of nowhere. Mariela, Alyssa, and I stay on the bus while everyone else heads to a restaurant that is probably giving Mr. Lee some kind of commission for stopping there.

Forty minutes later, everyone piles onto the bus. Before we get on the road, Mr. Lee begins his monologue.

Act I, Scam III
Bus, somewhere between Poipet and Siem Reap, Cambodia

I want you all to be happy. I take care of you, but I have some news to tell you. There is no bus station in Siem Reap, but don't worry, because I take care of you. I know a very good hostel, very clean, very cheap. Maybe 2, 3, 4... 5, 6 dollars. Very good price, good food, cheap. I want you to be happy. But you have your freedom. You can go inside look at the hostel, and if you don't like, you are free. You can go to other place, but Winter Hostel is very good, very cheap.

By this point, everyone is giving Mr. Lee incredulous looks and cursing under their breath. Alyssa starts arguing with him.

"No, we bought tickets from the bus station in Poipet to the bus station in Siem Reap. We have hotel reservations, and they're picking us up from the bus station."

I know how you feel, but I want you to be happy. I only take care of you. The police will stop us if we try to go to a bus station. You have your freedom. You can choose where to go.

Mr. Lee talks nonsense for another five minutes, but we stop listening.

He starts up again with 30 minutes left to go. He talks and talks, repeating the same phrases. He takes several long pauses in between his rants. With each one, we're convinced that this time, he's really finished. We have no such luck; he always starts up again. We curse our fate for not having rotten vegetables to chuck at him.

We reach the Winter Hostel and exit the bus. The bus people and the hostel heap on the sketchiness as they try to carry two people's backpacks inside. One of the girls, Christy, yells at them, yanks her pack away, and heads toward the road with the rest of us. We crowd around a map, trying to get oriented in the dark, and take off walking.

After 10 minutes, one girl points across the way and says, "Hey, Golden Mango - isn't that where you guys are staying?"

There was a tiny illuminated sign on a pole; it was a miracle that she spotted it. We crossed the road, and walked down a dodgy, dark alley. The hotel came into view - a beacon of hope in our frustrating day. They were welcoming and courteous and showed us to our lovely, clean rooms.

Exeunt.