By: R.K. Shivachandra

The horrifying foray to the Killing Field, Genocide museum and other historic war spots in Cambodia left everyone in a state of shock and this continued to linger heavy in our hearts. Many Europeans who had visited the site were seen breaking down on their knees in front of the memorable stupa where the excavated skulls and bones were being displayed.
We really wanted to further our visit to some interior parts of Cambodia. However due to time constraint, we couldn’t make it. The distance between Phnom Penh and Ho Chin Minh City in Vietnam is about 216 Kms. A smooth drive can take around 2 hours from Phnom Penh to Ho chin Minh city. Visas needed to be applied at Phnom Penh only. At the moment Vietnam visas are not issued at the border. We need to apply for it one day ahead. However our team couldn’t manage it for Sunday and Saturday were off- day. And that was only the two days we had in hand and overstaying more days in Cambodia could amount to cancellation of our return flight to Kolkata. Though some of us had been to the Moc Bai and other adjacent villages towards the border to Vietnam, the team as a whole couldn’t visit the city of Vietnam.
Our return journey to Bangkok through the South coast of Cambodia was a memorable one. The more interesting part of the journey had been the long stretch of the coastal and the beautiful blue sea that danced gleefully in a spectacular distance. We are water -obsessed people and are ready to be romantic about with any form of water; be it pond or small river. Traveling overlooking the vast Sea in a hot summer day was so refreshing and the situation asked one to be more romantic and calls everyone to become a harmless soul rather than violent. The beautiful site chased away at bay the bed habit of animosity, hatred and dislike among one another that we carry along with us from Manipur and for sometime we breathed freedom. The beach seemed to have expressed by itself that ‘Beauty of nature should be praised’. On the stretch of the coast there were resorts of the colonial era and many nascent national parks took its most fascinating form. Much of the coastline is dotted with small fishing communities. Some 80 Kms. down the line towards the border lies the first town ‘Kampot’. A sleepy small town in the Southern cost yet a principal port in the whole of Cambodia. Then we proceeded further to Sihanoukville. A thinly populated beach town not much to be offered to the tourists. Compared to any Thailand beach like Pataya and Phuket, Sihanoukville is still light years behind. The charmless town is fortunate enough to be hemmed in all sides by palm fringed white sand beaches and tropical islands. The present town named after the then King was amidst the thick jungle during 1950s. It was hacked out to create the first deep water port in 50s and USA provided money. The best route to proceed to Koh Kong the border of Cambodia from Sihanoukville is waterways. There are about three fast boats that depart from Sihanoukville before 11 A.M daily. They never take the risk of sailing afternoon for the sea is unfriendly during the evening. Despite our enthusiasm to have a boat ride, we missed the chance by 10 minutes that the last boat had already departed some few minutes before we reached the port. So we proceeded by a Toyota mini bus towards Koh Kong.
Koh Kong is an increasingly popular gateway to Cambodia from Hat Lek in eastern Thailand. Having the same name as its town, Koh Kong Island is the biggest island of Koh Kong’s coast. There are a number of unspoiled and less visited beaches around the island. This island visit is good for a one-day trip. The provincial capital is one of the few places in the entire province where we can find more tourists. Most folks pass through on their way to or from Thailand but due to transport limitations often they have to spend the night here. Unlike that border town to the north, Poipet, Koh Kong is a much more relaxed place with scenic beauties around .As with any border town there are the requisite mercenaries around, but no hassle around here as it was in Poipet. Having to spend a night in Koh Kong is not a bad idea
The distance between Phnom Penh to Koh Kong could cover in 6 hours with breaks at different locations. The distance is hardly 280 Kms.By the time we reached Cham Yeam the border check point in Koh Kong, it was around 5 in the evening. The big resort 7 star hotel at the extreme border stood in its majestic structure overlooking the blue ocean that spread as far as the eyes can see. Not far from the star hotel, Cambodian and Thailand National Flags were seen flying independently but struggling its way to resist the strong coastal wind. In the far horizon a faded Sun was seen half sunk in the depth of the sea. The dazzling golden water around him appeared as if it was a volcanic mountain in the middle of the sea with its lava sprung-out. The crimson ray spread over the horizon and twilight slowly enveloped the evening scene. Few shy-natured Cambodian girls peeped us by questioning telepathically who we are “Thais or Khmers” as they passed by. Nostalgic memories of my early teens attempted to whisk me back down the long forgotten memory lane in Manipur. Many evenings that have been bathed with the crimson rays had been passed by before my eyes in Manipur but never did a single thought occurred this way. Why did such a romantic mood sneak into me at this border point of Cambodia? May be a simple word to answer “When mind is free nature always takes its best role.”
Immigration officials at the border were so warm and friendly. We have crossed the border and applied for re entry visa into Thailand and soon we got it. The immigration officials in Thailand helped us to catch a mini van to further our journey to Bangkok via Pataya, the famous sea beach of Thailand. As the vehicle sped up, the silent highway gave our way towards Thailand. The sleeping mountain ranges seemed to have whispered ‘bye come back again’. In the death of the night people headed their own way to different destinations. Unlike Imphal Dimapur road or Imphal Moreh, our driver was never afraid of the gun totting element that might intervene our road to Bangkok. As we were penetrating through the silent night I could not but ponder why in Manipur things became too worse. Just beyond Motbung, the rest of the journey is purely in the hands of the God. This is all a spine chilling experience if you travel through the night. The one who is waiving Hi … by the driver widow is not there to cheer you up. If you don’t believe just open the window and just make ‘yourself’ his day. This is what happening in this tiny part of the World that we dearly called “A land belonging to Chingmi Tammi”. It is shameless robbing a stranger who passes through my corridor. On the other hand we saw hordes of departmental stores and show rooms that pressed into service till late midnight by the national highway. They seemed not to have bothered for a demand letter. They are not busy for ‘Waakat Mipham’ but used their precious time judiciously for promotion and developmental purposes only. But down here we are different creature. What is this? Are we all beasts here? When the neighboring South East Asian Countries scaled the sky, we are here just acting the ‘savage’. It is unfortunate and time calls for the godly men in the villages and city teaching the criminals the genesis of Adam and Eve with special reference to Manipur.
After a night halt at Pataya we have resumed our journey for Bangkok. The hollow Island in Pataya and people, who enjoyed life as if death would never befall on them, was a lovely site to look at.
We have reported on the Airport on the right time. The excess baggages made everybody unhappy. I have suggested them to be very cautious but the market was too tempting. Anyway we did it.
Reaching upon Kolkata, the immigration official on the desk gazed us through the thick glass lens as if we had done something wrong in the foreign countries. The customs officials kept watching us suspiciously as we passed through the green channel. Some unlucky fellow’s bags were checked but they didn’t find anything objectionable.
Back home. My daughter placed before me the bundle of newspapers with a cup of tea. Front pages contained news of ‘three killed’ and ‘four killed’. And lots more. Not a single day passed by without killing. Now the count begins how many of them killed during our absence in Manipur. How many widows stood on their mark to run the race “struggle of existence”. fromhttp://www.kanglaonline.com/index.php?template=kshow&kid=1463