Traveller's guilt - May 18-20

As a backpacker, I have joined a peculiar breed of traveller where prestige is based on being cheap: finding the most inexpensive guesthouses, eating food from street stalls and markets and taking local transportation. We proudly eschew the western comforts of hot showers and turn up our noses at air conditioned tour buses so we can live and travel "like the local people."

Yet in the last few months in Cambodia , I every so often become afflicted by bouts of traveller's guilt -- a sharp, discomforting reminder that travelling -- even by backpacker standards -- is an unfathomable luxury that will never be enjoyed by the vast majority of Cambodians. Like when I hemmed and hawed and finally plopped down $15 to hire a moto guide for the day to take me around Mondulkiri - only to learn later in the day that he makes $20 a month.

My most recent moment occurred when I visited Chambok - a pretty jungly area on the edge of a national park about two hours south of Phnom Penh. It's considered to be a successful ecotourism program where the fees generated by tourists - through homestays, local guides, oxcarts rides -- stay within the community and the surrounding forest is no longer logged or burned down. In my role of helping CRDT develop its own ecotourism program in Kratie, I wanted to see for myself the various services being provided by the villagers.


So I stayed with a lovely family who fed me delicious but simple Khmer meals and I hired a young 24 year old woman -- Khem -- from across the road to be my guide. She ended up being a sweet and cheerful companion for the day, and we had a great time learning Khmer and singing songs as we stomped up the mountain trail to view waterfalls.



At one point, I asked her if she had ever been to Sihanoukville, the beach resort town two hours south of her village. She responded with a blank look.

"It's the town where a lot of tourists go,"I explained. "They go swimming and lay on the beach."

I took out a map of Cambodia and pointed to the town. "There it is, not too far from here,"I said. "This part's the ocean, the sea" pointing to the blue part of the map.

She shook her head with a confused look, and said, "What is a 'beach'? What is 'ocean'?"

That's when the telltale pang of traveller's guilt hit me -- not only had she never left her village, but she also had no idea of what I meant by "ocean," even though it was only two hours away.

Although it is an uncomfortable reminder of western wealth and privilege, traveller's guilt does force you to appreciate where you are and what you are doing ... which really isn't a bad thing at all!

(p.s. I have photos to add to this post but I will have to wait til I get to Phnom Penh where the connection is faster!)