Poipet border town, facilities largely disproportionate to needs. In excess: casinos, hotels, massage parlours, brothels, bars, karaoke and parties. Where are the markets, schools, hospitals, butchers, tailors, hardware shops, and mechanics? A transient border town population, people come to partake of activities illegal elsewhere. Here, it’s the next regional economic boom, concrete and brick building going up amongst dirt roads. Following the afternoon showers mud drags everywhere, including onto the single strip tarmac road down the centre of town, a vector between the border crossing from Thailand to the National Highway 5. Some turn-off roads are impassable by bike with clay mud churned up like butter by foot traffic, motorcycles, and hand pulled carts.
Poipet, recognized for its sleaze factor, has stickers on some buildings to advocate whistle-blowing on child sex tourism by reporting suspicious activity, “Protect our National Treasures”. The Hotel rules of our establishment request patrons do not bring alcohol, fire-arms or opium into the hotel. Last night a thumping bass line to Cambodian karaoke serenaded us into the late night. If it wasn’t for my 24 hour stint of mild food poisoning, origin undetermined, we would have moved on by now. Instead, Tom and I have holed up in our hotel room to rest after the last 5 days ride from Bangkok, and so I may lay wretchedly on the bed till my food poisoning; which feels reminiscent of a terrible hang-over only more feverish, passes. Earlier, we wandered out onto the street to find food, for the first time in 1 and half years I find myself lost for basic language skills and local know-how in a fresh and unfamiliar culture. I am thrilled at this prospect but momentarily a little dismayed too, as another wave of nausea rises I’m unsure of where to find some plain and odorless soup to soothe my empty stomach.
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