MARKET MAZE IN CAMBODIA

Downtown market in Phnom Penh: an assault on the senses

This place has the air of a Hong Kong action flick.

It’s dark, cramped, hot and steamy. Countless shop stalls are crowded together, one after the other in a dimly lit maze. As I walk narrow passageways, I have to keep ducking down to avoid striking my head on overhead beams. A lady vendor I pass points to my head, and then to the low ceiling. She smiles, and her neighbor laughs at me: a tall, out of place foreigner.

I'm in Kandal Market, a Khmer market in downtown Phnom Penh. This is no tourist market either, it’s locals that throng here. Not surprisingly I'm getting curious looks, as few foreigners venture into this maze. Unlike Americans, most Khmers stay away from supermarkets. They find their food cheaper, and fresher, in neighborhood markets like these.

For a westerner, a walk through this Southeast Asian market is an assault on the senses. The biggest assault is the smell. With rotted food on the ground, poor drainage, and little ventilation, it takes some getting used to if you want to walk through it without holding holding your nose. The odors are even worse after it rains.

The colors on the other hand, are the most pleasant. Despite the lack of hygiene, these are still the freshest fruits and vegetables in the city. After properly washing and cooking your purchases at home, this can be one of the best meals you’ve ever had at such a cheap price.

Dark market interior, with makeshift roof

The stalls are beyond cramped, they're packed together in claustrophic conditions. Still you have to admit, there's a real energy about it, you can almost feel it in the air. With the tight quarters, some fear pickpockets, but that’s reasonably rare. Armed robbery is even more rare. For one thing, most of the shoppers, and the shopkeepers, are women. They all look out for each other as well.

There is no single rooftop covering this market. Overhead the roof is as chaotic as the layout of booths below. It’s a patchwork of corrugated metal, plastic sheeting, and different colored tarps stretched every which way. Some gaps are filled with cardboard. Old tires lie atop some sections to keep them in place.

A strange sight in the market are miniature beauty salons. These have a chair or two, or sometimes just a stool. Like ladies anywhere, Khmer women want to look good. For women that can’t afford a real beauty salon, they come here, to these tiny beauty booths.

Walking on, I pass a line of seamstress booths. It's rather dim; there are no electric lights. Somehow even in this dim light they are able to make dresses. Their sewing machines are not electric either, but powered by old fashioned foot pedals. These skilled ladies make dresses as though this is 100 years in the past.

I pass a foursome of ladies seated around a tiny table, playing cards. One is simultaneously having a pedicure done. I recognize these ladies from their work in the food stalls, and with lunchtime over, they have some time to relax.

There is plenty of clothing for sale, mobile phones, and pirated music, but most shoppers are here for the food. As this is Cambodia, you'll find food here you'll never see in your local supermarket. There are freshly fried bananas, and fried frogs. Some regions of Cambodia are known for fried spiders, but I don't see any today. There's fresh fish from the Mekong, and saltwater fish brought from the coast. Another passageway sells incense and fresh flowers, next to a fortune teller.

Some stalls sell durian. For those not familiar with it, durian is the most 'aromatic' fruit in Southeast Asia, and not in a good way. You can usually smell durian before you see it, even when it’s still growing on the tree. It has a rather nasty ammonia like smell. Cut it open, and it gets even worse. It took me years to gather up the courage to finally taste durian for myself. Surprisingly, that horrid smell does not match the taste, which is reasonably pleasant.

Live chickens for sale, tied together by their feet

There is also live poultry for sale. Several stalls sell chicken, available three ways: cooked whole, plucked but not cooked, and live. At one stall, a chicken butcher is cutting the chickens necks, and draining their blood. Beside him, another vendor takes groups of the freshly slaughtered chickens by the feet, and puts them in large pots of boiling water for a couple minutes. This makes it easier to pluck their feathers.

I've spent time on farms before, but I've never seen live chickens treated like this. I’m surprised to see numerous live chickens not in cages, but lying in piles on the ground or on tables, lumped together. At first I wonder why they don’t get up and walk away, until I see that all the chickens are bound around their ankles, three of them tied together. Unfortunately, it’s the lack of hygiene and unsafe handling practices in Asian markets much like this, that led to the spread of bird flu to humans.

Further on, tiny restaurants and food stalls are packed tightly together. Customers sit on small plastic chairs around metal topped tables. Cooking over electric burners, charcoal stoves, and even over open fires, they serve up Khmer food, such as fried rice, plantains and chicken. With conditions so cramped here, the market is a bit of a firetrap, as some Southeast Asian markets are. Years back in Hanoi, there had been a market fire disaster in 1994 that killed five people.

Not long ago, some Cambodian markets sold weapons. AK-47s, pistols, even grenade launchers were available with the right connections. Fortunately, those booths have been closed. With increased police enforcement, (corrupt as they are) and with successful disarmament programs, most weapons are finally off the market.

Heading home, I find piles of garbage from the market covering nearly the width of a nearby street! There's only a narrow path through the middle to walk through, as the city has yet to implement timely trash collection. Much of the garbage dumped here is organic, and the stench is overpowering. A Khmer with a deadened sense of smell is standing in the middle, picking up trash with a pitchfork. He tosses it high into a commercial garbage bin, which isn't big enough. Not 20 feet away from this mess, an ice vendor cuts through a large block of ice, and sells it to a customer. (Now I know why I was sick after drinking an iced drink in a cheap local restaurant.)

Walking by these markets at night is eerie, as there's little light. One night I saw how local market security works: to keep their sales items safe from theft, some vendors pull a tarp over their tables, and sleep on top of their goods. The usual scavengers also slink about: RATS! Rodents are common around the market at night, and with so much discarded food around, rats grow big here. I've seen some as big as cats. Worse, at night they have a nasty habit of running right in front of your path, or around your feet, as you walk by their hiding places.

Hoping to keep rodents as far from me as possible, I developed my own rat alarm to warn them away. Whenever I walked by the market in the evening, or down narrow alleys, I simply clapped my hands loudly. After doing this, I often saw rats scurrying away ahead of me, before I became uncomfortably close. I swear by this method.

MEKONG RIVERFRONT AND OLD TOWN NIGHT MARKET

Laotian paddles traditional boat on Mekong River at Luang Prabang

This afternoon I'm strolling through the historical neighborhood of Luang Prabang, in the old capital of Laos. Walking downhill, I arrive at the famed Mekong River. Having been on it before, it's as though I’m reunited with an old friend. It doesn’t disappoint; I’m treated to another fantastic view. The majestic Mekong flows before me, and beyond it are ancient forest covered mountains. Since the sun has returned the colors are bright, and the intense green colors of the jungle blanketed hills really stand out. 

There are no tourists around this serene scene, so I find a walkway down from Khem Khong Street to the riverbank. There are no speedboats here, like everything else in Laos, movement on the river is slow. There’s no bridge either, any one crossing uses their own small boats, or takes the ferry. With the ferries docked, river traffic is light. The only sound is the putt-putt of one longtail boat chugging upriver.

Buddhist monk by Mekong River, opposite Luang Prabang. This side of river was once part of Thailand.

Far downriver is Vientiane,  but unlike in the south, the Mekong is not an international border here. The bank on the far side here is now Laotian territory, but it wasn’t always this way. There was a time when the land west of the Mekong was part of Thailand. That back and forth change of frontiers led to border battles further west in the 1980’s. But all is calm now; the far bank is now home to quiet ethnic minority villages.

I head further down the Khem Kong river road, behind the royal palace. This was once the royal pier, a miniature port where the world’s dignitaries arrived by boat for official visits with the king. Back before there was a decent road between here and Vientiane, the Mekong was the main highway of Laos. 

Long houseboats lined up on the riverbank

With the rise of roads in Laos, river traffic has dropped, but there are still some boats that carry passengers up and down the Mekong. This area has become a passenger port for journeys on the river. A whiteboard outside the booking house promotes a two day boat trip to Huay Xai, a town upriver bordering Thailand. It claims that the trip is by ‘VIP boat’. I let out a chuckle, since I spoke with some travelers that dispute that classification. They arrived in Luang Prabang on that same river route, and the boat they traveled in was far smaller than they expected.

“It was so crowded, full of cargo and passengers, there was little room to spare,” a young lady complained. “We only slept a little, and that was in hammocks.” Well, when those backpackers travel, they like the true local experience. They certainly got one. 

I look down towards the river bank now, and there some passenger boats, but they are outnumbered by much larger craft. There are more than 20 blue houseboats, all lined up on the bank, one right after 

A family lives on this houseboat

another. This part of the shoreline has been transformed into a floating residential area. I’ve never seen houseboats like this before, long and narrow, most are more than 80 feet in length. This makes for affordable housing, in an exclusive neighborhood. These boats are docked next to the most expensive land in northern Laos, and their rent to dock here is  probably quite low. Some of these families seem to do well; a number of the rooftops are adorned with solar panels and satellite dishes. 

Still, this isn’t a very sanitary lifestyle. I see a few children playing about, and laundry is drying in the windows. The laundry water and the bath water both come from the river. Unfortunately the river is also the neighborhood toilet. 

Leaving the river I go to check out more of the town’s commerce, so I walk up the hill into the heart of this historic town. I notice Laotians walking into a market resembling a barn, and I follow them in. Inside is a market not for tourists, but for local folk. Booth after booth is selling cheap clothes, costume jewelry and pirated DVDs. 

Old basketball court is now a market

The ceiling is unusually high for a local market, and looking up, I notice familiar hoops hanging from each end. This barn-like building wasn’t originally a market at all, it was a basketball court. Given that basketball is an American game, I wonder if these old backboards were installed when pilots of the CIA's Air America used to be here during the war. Since most Laotians are fairly short, they don’t have much use for a game favoring tall people. At least they’re putting the building to good use with the market. Not to miss a place to display their merchandise, one vendor has hung her colorful t-shirts from the far hoop. 

Leaving the market, I turn onto the main street of the town’s old part, Sisavangvong. Passing the palace I visited earlier, I reach the best preserved section of town. There are French shophouses, cafés, popular restaurants, and stores selling works of local artisans. And yet, there is a distinct, un-Laotian feel to this street. Also occupying these old buildings are travel companies and internet cafés. The foreigners have invaded.  

Looking around, I see Laotians on Sisavangvong have been outnumbered by white foreigner tourists. Walking down the busy street, I hear German, French, Swedish, and various English accents. In 1995 Luang Prabang was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site, which helped to preserve the old French colonial houses. After the war Laos was a forbidden land for foreigners, but they have come back to Luang Prabang in droves. 

Passing one tour company, I pause to read the elaborate placard out front. It advertises elephant rides in the countryside, a favorite of foreign visitors. Ride an elephant for a couple hours, or all day. For those who want to spend even more time with the great Asian elephants, they advertise a mahout school for $140. In learning the mahouts ways, you are taught the basics to be an elephant driver, or handler. The introductory course takes three days. 

Local vendors set up for Night Market in Old Town Luang Prabang

Or if you prefer an old fashioned jungle trek like the colonial explorers used to do, you can take a four day elephant caravan into the Hongsa Forest. That will only set you back $800 a head. 

Walking on, another elephant tour company advertises this: “Three days trek to visit old opium fields”. 'Old' opium fields? Really? Are they saying that there aren’t any more new ones? 

I head back to the guest house to rest, but there's more coming in the evening. Sisavangvong is known for its night market, and I return later to check it out. 

This is actually my second time to the night market; I had seen it five years before. It was a unique night market back then, the street was closed to traffic, and each vendor had their wares laying out in the open on the roadside. There were no tables, their goods were laid out on the ground on top of colorful woven blankets. Each lady vendor had only a small light bulb to brighten their merchandise beneath the moonlight. 

Lady vendor smiles at customers in Luang Prabang Night Market

Many ethnic minority women came in from the countryside to sell their goods, some of them working with a baby still strapped on their back. There was a wide selection of Buddhist statues, incense and silver jewelry of traditional designs. The best wares were the hand woven fabrics and traditional clothing. These weren’t just cheap tourist souvenirs, this was real craftsmanship. Almost everything you could see was made by hand.

In the years since my last visit, I return to the night market to find it has expanded exponentially! There are now so many vendors here that they don’t just line the roadsides, they are crowded together out in the street. It'ss no longer open to the skies either, most vendors have erected pop-ups for the rainy season. They're all packed so tightly together on the road, that there isn’t much space to walk through. To make my way down the street through the pop-ups, I'm forced to duck up and down repeatedly like a target in an arcade game! 

2005: The Night Market before it became swamped with tourists

Having Luang Prabang declared a world heritage site has been a mixed blessing here. The old buildings have been preserved, that’s true, and business is booming. 

But I fear Luang Prabang’s old district has become a victim of its own success; its romantic allure is fading. The high season now has mobs of tourists here, with most businesses catering solely to foreigners. 

This historic street is losing the old world charm that made Luang Prabang a world heritage site in the first place. 

BEAUTIFUL, HISTORIC HOI AN

The historic 'Japanese Bridge' in the Old Town of Hoi An

Hoi An is a seaside town unlike any other. Founded in the 16th century, this is the best preserved old port in all of Southeast Asia; a historical site for the ages. This has Vietnam's best preserved old buildings, which precede the French colonial times.

Traditional lanterns in an Old Town shop

During the war years, Hoi An was spared the destruction that raged throughout the rest of South Vietnam. By luck, or by design, neither side launched major attacks on this rare ancient town. That left Hoi An's rich heritage intact. It makes one wonder how the rest of Vietnam may have looked, if this beautiful country had not been so damaged by so many wars over the centuries

Hoi An was once a major trading port

As Hoi An lies is a coastal town which lies on the Thu Bon River, it does suffer one annual indignity: flooding. Unlike other old river towns, Hoi An lacks levees, so each spring the streets are flooded. However, it is flooding that the town's residents have learned to live with. The only movement seen in the town's streets is by boat.  

An artist does restoration work on a local Buddhist temple

Rather than the usual destruction of flooding I've seen before, the strong foundations and building materials in this old town are such that the old buildings are able to withstand the annual floods (for the most part.)

Colorfully painted boats in Hoi An's harbor

Once a major trading port, over the centuries the town had communities of Chinese, Cham and Japanese. Even the Dutch and Spanish were here. Today, it is distinctly Vietnamese.

Waitresses chat at the door of a Hoi An restaurant. The town is excellent for seafood.

Inside one of the oldest homes in town is a very heavy, old wooden pillar, with a series of marks on it. These are dated high water marks, showing the actual height that the flood reached that year. When the annual floodwaters subside, the town's residents clean up, and the tourists, return to Hoi An as usual. 

A night time view of Hoi An's waterfront

This burg has long been known as a 'must see' place for foreign visitors. With excellent restaurants craft markets, and comfortable scenic hotels, its reputation for tourism is well deserved. With romantic views, the Old Town is popular with honeymooners.

Hoi An has some of the best preserved architecture in all of Vietnam

This ancient little port was named a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1999, so the unique and historic old town should be spared from unscrupulous redevelopers in the future. With that kind of protection, this beautiful old town should remain relatively unchanged for future generations of tourists, who wish to come and experience the charm, the tranquility, of old Vietnam.

'The Old Man and the Sea' in Vietnam

FLOATING MARKET ON THE MEKONG

I’m aboard another boat in Vietnam's Mekong River Delta, only this time the wooden craft is larger, and motorized. We’re cruising upstream on a wide expanse of the Can Tho River, and I’m amazed at what I'm seeing. We're surrounded by hundreds of boats, in all shapes and sizes.

There is a flurry of activity, since these watercraft double as mobile floating shops. Vendors are drawn here from all over the province to sell their wares, mainly food. The surrounding boats are burdened with cargoes of pineapple, watermelon, vegetables and rice. Some craft are so heavily loaded, they almost appear to be sinking.

This is the floating market of Can Tho, and these floating markets have been the centers of commerce in the delta for generations. Buyers navigate their way through the larger vessels to find their chosen cargo. They pull up their empty boats alongside the selling boats, then bargain out the prices, load up their goods, and move on. Most smaller boats are piloted by women, who row their boats expertly, as well as any sailor. For these boat driving ladies, this is just another day of selling or shopping for their family.

The size of these riverboats ranges widely, from 60 foot long diesel powered freighters, all the way down to eight foot long rowboats. They have a rustic look to them, since none of them are made of fiberglass. All of them are made of wood, and few are painted. Their bare brown color nearly matches the brown water of the dark river that they are floating on. I see four large boats lashed together in a row, where buyers can more easily walk across them, from one over to the next. This way they can more easily load a few different items all at once. Many boats anchored and lashed together here, create the Mekong Delta’s version of a strip mall.

 This floating market is one reason that Can Tho city is the delta’s economic center. Besides being used for floating shops, some of these boats also have entire families living aboard. A few of the floating residences have laundry hanging from clotheslines strung along their tight living quarters.

I spot some youngsters working on boats right alongside their parents. This must be a difficult life for children; I wonder how many of these young river dwellers are able to attend school. 

Like much of the delta, there is still no bridge to get here by car. Although Can Tho is the largest city in the delta, I still had to cross here by ferry. But there are bridges under construction, so I wonder how long this unique market will continue. Since much of the delta lacks roadway access, this floating piece of Vietnamese culture will live on into the future.

WAR SOUVENIR MARKET

This statue at left honors a Vietnamese hero that fought China, not the USA

The colonial clock tower of Ben Thanh market is the unofficial icon of old Saigon. Since Vietnam has returned to capitalism, a landmark from a buzzing market makes a fitting symbol. Like Asia itself, the market is overcrowded, and anxious for money from foreigners.

Unlike air conditioned American markets, the inside is filled with tropical heat.  Crowds weave between hundreds of small stalls, with vendors selling just about anything. There are silk clothes, cosmetics, souvenirs, spices, exotic fruits, live seafood, and snake wine. That’s right, wine made from snakes, complete with a dead cobra still inside the bottle! The wine, and most other goods sold here, are still made by hand. Since this is the heart of the business district, and close to tourist sites, it’s one of the more expensive markets in town. Eager foreigners who visit still find prices cheaper than back home, so they think they’re getting bargains. But there are better markets in the city, with more interesting merchandise.

Out the front clock tower door in the middle of a traffic roundabout, sits a statue of a Vietnamese hero on horseback. This isn’t Ho Chi Minh, but Tran Nguyen Han, a 15th century general who fought the Chinese. A nearby street called Le Loi, is also named for a guerilla leader who fought the Chinese. Long before America’s war here, China occupied Vietnam for nearly 1,000 years. It took centuries of fighting for the Vietnamese to finally kick them out. Fighting for so many years proved the Vietnamese tenacity for enduring long wars, and fuels a still simmering dislike for China today. Yes, the Vietnamese dislike the Chinese, far more than they dislike Americans. Given their history fighting China, it’s not surprising that there are many more statues throughout Vietnam to heroes who fought the Chinese, than there are to those who fought the Americans or the French. It shows who the Vietnamese think their worst enemy was, and who they still fear to some degree.

Having had enough of Ben Thanh market, I search for ‘historical’ merchandise elsewhere. Running between cars, I cross to nearby Duong Yersin street heading for a market with more local flavor, away from tourists. A few blocks down, I reach Dan Sinh market.

Walking in, I note the booths here are crowded even tighter together. There are no foreigners in sight. Walking deeper into the market, I find some unique items. I’ve found the market I’m looking for.

A mass of military gear from several armies is on sale in Dan Sinh market

I first see military clothing from the American, Vietnamese, and Chinese Armies.It’s a strange mix of styles old and new. I look closely for authenticity, since fakes abound. There are backpacks, boots, compasses, fold-up shovels and knives. Some of the goods are modern day US Army surplus. Others are copies made in local shops; even counterfeit US Army patches are made here. I look around, and see US Army, US Army everywhere. There is even ammunition, for rifles and grenade launchers, sold like key chains. These have all been disarmed. Probably.

Soon I come across what look like antiques from the war years, but that’s only at first glance. I’ve heard that many fake antiques here have been artificially aged. There are old looking watches, medals, patches, pins, canteens, dog tags and even class rings. Nearly all of them are fakes.

The most glaring counterfeit examples are zippo lighters. Someone has gone to great lengths to make them look like war antiques. These lighters have been artificially dyed, or even heavily scratched to make them look old and weathered.  They’re engraved with the names of battlefields, or US army units. Some have  wartime catchphrases like “It don’t mean nothin”, or “Live by chance, drunkard by choice, killer by profession”, or “Mess with the best, die like the rest”.  The salespeople fib to me, claiming they’re genuine. “Old from the war,” they say unconvincingly.

Continuing on, I find an exception. I pick up a green steel pot helmet. It’s the old American GI style. As opposed to the other counterfeits, this one has a musty odor, decaying fabric, and rust. This one is actually genuine. The webbing has been altered, to fit a small Vietnamese head. I’ve seen locals use these as motorcycle helmets.

Other booths have more war antiques that appear genuine. There are ammunition cases, canteens, backpacks, flashlights, compasses and mess kits. I’m not surprised to find so much military merchandise for sale. Back during the war the South Vietnamese military was so corrupt, that items such as these were easily stolen, and then sold openly on the black market. In those days, a lot of American military aid meant for the war effort ended up sold on the streets, with the proceeds going into the bank accounts of corrupt ARVN generals.

Helmets, hats and gauges from old US military vehicles are also sold here.

Another booth has piles of gauges that were taken out of old planes, trucks and armored vehicles. After the war most of the old military vehicles ended up in the scrap yard. I inquire about an old, small canvas US army backpack. Worn and weathered, it looks authentic. I quickly learn that the old, authentic goods from the war are far more expensive than the new.

“Forty dollars,” says the stern salesmen. I try to bargain with him, and he snubs me, refusing to bargain at all. That’s a fixed price.

I move on, exploring further into the market, and find another booth with disorganized piles of military gear. Stacks of old photos catch my eye, and I thumb through them. They’re all black and white, darkened by age, and printed in old styles not seen anymore. These are also genuine. In between old family snapshots, I come to many pictures of soldiers in uniform. These were personal soldier’s photos from the the old South Vietnamese Army, officially called the Army of the Republic of Vietnam(ARVN). There are numerous photos of these young men, America’s former allies. Some proudly wear their full dress uniforms. Others are posing with friends, leaning on each other, relaxing.

I purchase one black and white photo, showing four anonymous ARVN soldiers. They are seated on the ground, wearing their helmets, brandishing M-16 rifles. Looking scarcely older than 18, they were probably draftees.

“Where did you get all these photos?” I ask the saleslady.

“Danang,” she says, and gives no further details.

I look at this old photo and wonder what happened to these four young men. There were so many difficulties ahead for these soldiers. When the war ended, most captured ARVN soldiers were imprisoned. These photos are faces from the past, looking at me from across time. How many of these young men survived the war? Did any escape as refugees? Where are they now?