osmoala

                                      Revenge is a dish best served cold...

Poipet was a nerve-racking experience as always. These border towns have a bad reputation amongst travellers and Aryanaprathet-Poipet probably makes the worst border between Thailand and Cambodia with all the scammers around. It's located some 150 kilometers west of Siem Reap and the bus ride took four hours and we spent an hour picking up people from different hotels before we even got out of town. That's because the bus companies, except for Ibis, never follow the promised schedule. I left my room before seven in the morning and returned just before seven in the evening.

The-no-man's land between the two countries is like a scene from a science fiction movie after the Apocalypse. There are posh looking casinos on both sides, but when you walk along, the road is filled with beggars, hustlers, scammers; you look down at the river dividing the two Kingdoms and the black water is filled with tons of garbage, mostly plastic materials, bags, bottles, containers; also paper boxes, diapers, a wooden table and the skeleton of a bicycle. The stench makes the air heavy to breath.

The border crossing is a chaotic mission and at lunch time the arrival hall to Thailand was so crowded I had to wait for a while before I even could get in there. The queue was a slowly curling snake along the ropes. It was hot. There were fans, but the air cons didn't do much to cool the place down as they were set at 29 degrees. Almost two hours later I was at one of the three windows where I handed the passport to the border police. She was wearing a light make up and looked liked a fashion model in a uniform; lovely eyes, high cheek bones, the perfect nose and the full lips. She pointed at my arrival card:

   ”You didn't write down your adress in Thailand.”

   I hesitated. The word was that they didn't care much for the expats using the system to do visa runs. ”I'm going back there today.”

   ”Hmmm... And how long have you stayed in Cambodia?” Surely she could see it on the stamps in my passport?

   ”Two months.”

   ”Are you working in Cambodia?”

   ”No, I'm not. No work.”

   She glanzed at me for a moment like she was looking right into my soul. Then she smiled and said: ”'I will write down a hotel here in Aryanaprathet.” It was only for the formalities and I thanked her. I felt happy there for a moment.

   I walked down the stairs and thru the customs which was upgraded with an X-ray machine for the luggage. My bag contained a novel, an almost empty bottle of Aquarious and half a baguette. I walked out in the blazing sun, crossed the street and went in to the departure hall. It was a ridiculous system with these visa runs and I was cursing Oddjob for having to make this totally unnecessary trip.

   I left Thailand after five minutes and went to the Immigration Office where I got the E-visa for 35 dollars I should have gotten in the first place, when arriving two months ago. The E-visa, the ordinary visa, you can extend uptill one year without having to leave Cambodia. I hated Mr Oddjob and wished every evil to come upon him.

Back in Cambodia it was the same routine as always. Some guy asked me promptly about my visa. ”I'll just get it over there, at the Immigration office”. No kick backs for you. I stamped into the country and some other fellow was following me; ”Where you going?”

   ”Don't worry, I've done this many times.” I walked to the roundabout where they pick up people in private cars to drive you whereever you want to go. I usually paid ten dollars for a ride to Siem Reap in a Toyota, sharing the cost with two other random travellers. There was another guy. ”You want a private car?”

   ”Yes. I'll pay the ten dollars.”

   ”Okay. Wait here.” He came back after five minutes. ”You go with him, he take you to the car.” I sat at the back of the scooter and the driver took me two hundred meters along the road, to a travel agent. He demanded one dollar for the ride. I was losing it:

   ”What? The other guy told me ten dollars to Siem Reap, and now you want me to pay a dollar for this short ride. IT WILL NOT HAPPEN!”

   He drove away, muttering in Khmer. I had a vague idea what he was saying about me.

   The man behind the the desk said: ”Okay, ten dollars. But listen – here in Cambodia there are usually two people in the front seat. You want the front seat? Can you pay me five dollars more?”

   ”For fuck's sake!” I turned to walk away.

   ”No problem – okay, ten dollars. Can you wait here maybe twenty minutes?”

   I waited twenty minutes and then the ride arrived. It was not a private car, it was a mini van. Full of groceries, kitchenware and what not at the back. We took off, five passengers and enough of supplies to keep an army marching for weeks.

   But, of course we didn't go straight to Siem Reap – we took detours into the country to let off stuff at markets, drove into villages to let off people and pick up new people. The driver's cell was ringing all the time. Then, after hours we were getting close to Siem Reap. Then the guy takes a left and drives to the airport. Now we were sitting in the van, obviously waiting for somebody to check out from the airport. I was steaming. I took my bag, said a few not so polite words to the driver and walked to the nearest tuk tuk. ”Taphul Road, please.” It cost me another four dollars to get home, but I just had had enough of detours for one day.

Two months ago I left Bangkok for Siem Reap on a coach. Although I'm not the collective type it seemed to be a convenient way of getting all the way to Siem Reap on the same bus. Just before the border a Thai man climbs aboard. He looks like a smaller version of Oddjob, the henchman in Goldfinger, but without the hat of course. He collects our passports and asks for the money for the visa. ”How much is it?”

   ”Forty-five dollars.”

   ”It used to be thirty-five.”

   ”Now it is forty-five, but you can extend it for three months.” That´s two lies in one sentence, but I would only discover it later. What he got us, everybody on the bus, was a tourist visa which you can only extend for one month. That one is thirty dollars at the border.

   Imagine – fourty people on every bus, whom he´s scamming for fifteen bucks a piece. A few of these busloads a day makes some handsome money at the end of the month. This border scam had elevated to an industrial level.

   Next time I would interrupt his syrupy monologue and talk to the passengers; I would take the whole crowd over to the Cambodian side and show them the Immigration office where they would pay the proper fee. I was also going to take his picture and display it on the Internet with a nice story exposing the scam. I would tell him – ”I´m going to make you famous, baby”. Surely that was going to make Oddjob very angry.

   This is what I was thinking in the tuk tuk on the way back home from the airport. But let's remember I was also hungry, thristy and needed to take a leak.