90. Larson is not impressed
Larson ate fried chicken and tried to avoid eye contact with a couple of Cambodian beggar kids that were standing outside the window of the restaurant. Two small girls were pressing their noses and hands flat against the window and tried to make Larson feel guilty that he was eating and they were not. The girls succeeded but Larson tried not to let them see how awkward he felt.
What a hellhole Poipet is, thought Larson. Filth, dirt, decadent rich gamblers and hideous poverty. And no cute boys. Maybe I should not think of sex in a destitute place like this, thought Larson. But I didn’t see any talent on the Cambodian side. Either they were too small or they were gritty working men, straight and serious.
Larson had his fill of Cambodia and took a tuk-tuk back to Aranya. His enemy the driver from the day before was now gone and Larson got someone else to drive him. This beats walking, thought Larson as the tuk-tuk went downhill from the border.
Arriving in Aranya Larson saw a sign saying “Internet” outside a shop. I might as well check my email, thought Larson and entered the shop. The sound of kids playing games put Larson off but a man behind a desk waved him in.
- Internet? asked Larson.
- Check email? asked the man.
Larson was shown a computer near the door. It was the only PC not having a game running on it. The place was full of boys playing Ragnarock. Larson started typing an email.
To: Bjorn
From: Pelle Larson
Subject: Cambodia visa run
Dear Bjorn
I am safe and sound on the Thai side again. Poipet is the most annoying place I have been to. It is too hot, too noisy and full of beggars and thieves. I nearly got violent with some of them, and I don’t mean the poor children who are in vast numbers everywhere but the adult crooks that can’t leave me alone. I have worked hard for my visa, I tell you!
And where are the Khmer boys? There is no talent here. None! It seems all Khmer males are straight. I have only seen the truck boys. One of them was almost cute. The boys are teenagers who wait at the roundabout for trucks to arrive from Cambodia. A boy will leap up to the driver’s window and stand there while the truck is driving to the Cambodian exit booth. The boy takes a yellow paper from the driver, runs over to the guard with it, has it stamped and then the boy is running back to the truck driver. For this the boy gets a tip.
I could tip a boy a lot more but they didn’t even see me! They were on the young side anyway, and dusty and dirty. I look forward to coming back to Bangkok.
Exhausted greetings from the border
Pelle
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