By Chely Esguerra
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 16th April, 2011
“WELCOME to Phnom Penh! Make yourselves feel comfortable. We’ll just be heading out for a couple of hours. If someone knocks and looks for me, just speak in Filipino. That’ll confuse them. The house is yours. Kick back. Take it easy, mates.”
His name was Rob, a 52-year-old Australian married to a beautiful Khmer woman named Srey Na. They were our first CouchSurfing hosts and those were his first words to us as we stepped inside what was to be our home for a couple of nights. We endlessly beamed at them, giving them what we hoped were the best of our we’re-good-people-we-promise smiles. Deep inside, we were a bit confused about having been entrusted a stranger’s house all within 30 seconds of introduction.
So is this how it is to be a CouchSurfer? Mindblowing. CouchSurfing (www.couchsurfing.org) is an international nonprofit network that connects travelers. Its very essence lies on cultural exchange through the hosting of total strangers as they travel to foreign places.
Finding love and keeping it
We’ve been on nonstop travel from Pangasinan to Manila to Ho Chi Minh City to Phnom Penh for the past day. We arrived in Vietnam after midnight and we were immediately blessed by the kindness of strangers. A Filipina, working in Cambodia, gave us a lift all the way to Saigon city center. After six hours of waiting to get bus tickets, eating three bowls of Pho Bo and having several gulps of fine Saigon beer, we managed to get ourselves across to Phnom Penh and around its streets to get to our host’s home.
“Cambodia is a country of love and reality,” Rob waxes poetic as he took us out for lunch. His house is a few blocks away from the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. Being in the vicinity of a place carved with depressing history, reality isn’t too difficult to find. And love? “Srey Na and I met at her sister’s wedding. Weddings here are grand, everyone is invited. It was not in my plan to meet someone but here I am now, happily married.”
DormSurfing
In another province of Cambodia, we hied off to meet our next home. It was a backpacker hostel that we were to live in. Upon arriving, we found out that we will be sharing a dorm’s floor space with three other CouchSurfers. A Khmer hotel-owner was simultaneously hosting a Russian researcher, a Japanese student, a Belgian marine specialist and us, a Filipino couple. We expected an interesting exchange to no avail. Turns out that this CouchSurfing station was for rather busy folks. Our host, being all too generous, has practically donated a dorm in his hostel to CouchSurfers hitting Siem Reap.
Armed with Lonely Planet’s Backpacking on a Shoestring, we went around the tourist spots of Siem Reap. We became good friends with our tuktuk driver, Sothy, and he gladly shared his personal life as we went around. There were hoards of tourists everywhere. We were just about ready to resign to our dorm when Sothy asks, “Would you like to come watch my football game in the countryside?”
The best tuktuk driver ever
Of course, we said yes. We rented bikes for $2 and rode them out through back roads and rice fields. “We’ll stop by my house first so I could get a change of clothes. I’ll introduce you to my family.” It was one of the most gracious encounters we could ever ask for. And yet things were just about to get better.
After politely declining their offer to prepare Khmer soup from scratch, we headed off to the game’s venue. Watching the players hack it out for a goal, in sportswear that included boxer shorts, waist towels, briefs, and bare feet, one could easily define what “for the love of the game” means. The price for the winning team? Ice cold water!
Sothy’s best friend then encouraged us to volunteer. “You want to teach children? There’s an orphanage across the street. Look for Mr. Ross.” I have always believed that initiative is the lifeblood of change. To check out this place would be a privilege.
Small town hero
“One, two, three.” There were about 40 children counting in chorus. They were wide-eyed, eager, giggly. A young American teacher was pointing at numbers on the blackboard for his students to identify. We apologetically disrupted their outdoor class as we made our way to Mr. Ross who was at the library.
He gamely shared his time with us and stories of how he started this dream of setting up a school for orphans almost 20 years ago. He used to live in the forests of Cambodia, fighting for survival along with other chidren. “I know what it’s like to depend on friends. I’d like to help these kids here.” The students in his school mostly lost their parents to HIV/AIDS and the unresolved conflict of Cambodian borders.
After two weeks of hopping around different provinces, surfing from one stranger’s house to another, I have been given a totally different perspective of travel. To be assured of a plush bed, hot shower and mosquito-free nights is a sought-after luxury. But to see the places through the eyes of its locals? I dare say it is priceless.
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 16th April, 2011
“WELCOME to Phnom Penh! Make yourselves feel comfortable. We’ll just be heading out for a couple of hours. If someone knocks and looks for me, just speak in Filipino. That’ll confuse them. The house is yours. Kick back. Take it easy, mates.”
His name was Rob, a 52-year-old Australian married to a beautiful Khmer woman named Srey Na. They were our first CouchSurfing hosts and those were his first words to us as we stepped inside what was to be our home for a couple of nights. We endlessly beamed at them, giving them what we hoped were the best of our we’re-good-people-we-promise smiles. Deep inside, we were a bit confused about having been entrusted a stranger’s house all within 30 seconds of introduction.
So is this how it is to be a CouchSurfer? Mindblowing. CouchSurfing (www.couchsurfing.org) is an international nonprofit network that connects travelers. Its very essence lies on cultural exchange through the hosting of total strangers as they travel to foreign places.
Finding love and keeping it
We’ve been on nonstop travel from Pangasinan to Manila to Ho Chi Minh City to Phnom Penh for the past day. We arrived in Vietnam after midnight and we were immediately blessed by the kindness of strangers. A Filipina, working in Cambodia, gave us a lift all the way to Saigon city center. After six hours of waiting to get bus tickets, eating three bowls of Pho Bo and having several gulps of fine Saigon beer, we managed to get ourselves across to Phnom Penh and around its streets to get to our host’s home.
“Cambodia is a country of love and reality,” Rob waxes poetic as he took us out for lunch. His house is a few blocks away from the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. Being in the vicinity of a place carved with depressing history, reality isn’t too difficult to find. And love? “Srey Na and I met at her sister’s wedding. Weddings here are grand, everyone is invited. It was not in my plan to meet someone but here I am now, happily married.”
DormSurfing
In another province of Cambodia, we hied off to meet our next home. It was a backpacker hostel that we were to live in. Upon arriving, we found out that we will be sharing a dorm’s floor space with three other CouchSurfers. A Khmer hotel-owner was simultaneously hosting a Russian researcher, a Japanese student, a Belgian marine specialist and us, a Filipino couple. We expected an interesting exchange to no avail. Turns out that this CouchSurfing station was for rather busy folks. Our host, being all too generous, has practically donated a dorm in his hostel to CouchSurfers hitting Siem Reap.
Armed with Lonely Planet’s Backpacking on a Shoestring, we went around the tourist spots of Siem Reap. We became good friends with our tuktuk driver, Sothy, and he gladly shared his personal life as we went around. There were hoards of tourists everywhere. We were just about ready to resign to our dorm when Sothy asks, “Would you like to come watch my football game in the countryside?”
The best tuktuk driver ever
Of course, we said yes. We rented bikes for $2 and rode them out through back roads and rice fields. “We’ll stop by my house first so I could get a change of clothes. I’ll introduce you to my family.” It was one of the most gracious encounters we could ever ask for. And yet things were just about to get better.
After politely declining their offer to prepare Khmer soup from scratch, we headed off to the game’s venue. Watching the players hack it out for a goal, in sportswear that included boxer shorts, waist towels, briefs, and bare feet, one could easily define what “for the love of the game” means. The price for the winning team? Ice cold water!
Sothy’s best friend then encouraged us to volunteer. “You want to teach children? There’s an orphanage across the street. Look for Mr. Ross.” I have always believed that initiative is the lifeblood of change. To check out this place would be a privilege.
Small town hero
“One, two, three.” There were about 40 children counting in chorus. They were wide-eyed, eager, giggly. A young American teacher was pointing at numbers on the blackboard for his students to identify. We apologetically disrupted their outdoor class as we made our way to Mr. Ross who was at the library.
He gamely shared his time with us and stories of how he started this dream of setting up a school for orphans almost 20 years ago. He used to live in the forests of Cambodia, fighting for survival along with other chidren. “I know what it’s like to depend on friends. I’d like to help these kids here.” The students in his school mostly lost their parents to HIV/AIDS and the unresolved conflict of Cambodian borders.
After two weeks of hopping around different provinces, surfing from one stranger’s house to another, I have been given a totally different perspective of travel. To be assured of a plush bed, hot shower and mosquito-free nights is a sought-after luxury. But to see the places through the eyes of its locals? I dare say it is priceless.
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