I will never eat rojak again

Food stalls in Penang

They say that Penang is the street food capital of the world. There really are food stalls everywhere and so many dishes to try, I don't even know where to begin.

I decided to skip the soups because I don't like soup in general and because a hot soup just isn't what I want to eat in hot weather. I also eliminated anything resembling fried rice because I had so much fried rice in Laos and Cambodia that the thought of another fried rice meal makes me shudder.

But that still leaves lots of options. I like the noodle or mee dishes. Yellow noodles are served with various meats and vegetables in a spicy sauce, such as this curried chicken version.

Curried chicken mee

Then there's the roti canai and murtabak that could easily become my favorites. They are very similar dishes, made using a very large thin piece of dough that is fried, stuffed with various fillings, such as egg, vegetable or meat, and folded into a rectangle, served with dipping sauces.

I was feeling adventurous among all the food options and so I risked trying one of the desserts as well. Deciding between cendol and rojak I chose the latter for the fresh fruits and vegetables. The term that immediately came to mind when I tried it is bizarre. If they ever give out a reward for the most bizarre food combination, this gets my vote. And if they ever give out a reward to the bravest tourist who ate it, it should be me. This is what it looks like:

Rojak

It's pieces of fruit and vegetables (I recognized pineapple, Malay apple and cucumber, among other stuff I wasn't able to identify), smothered in a thick sweet sauce that could be caramel except it isn't. The stuff on top is ground peanuts. What I don't understand is why do they make it taste fishy by adding fried squid and shrimp paste? Since I ordered it I ate it. But I will definitely never eat this again, it's just too many flavors that don't go together. I had an unpleasant aftertaste when I finished it.

I'm now toying with the idea to try cendol tomorrow. It's made of ice, green noodles (the green color comes from pea flour), beans, coconut milk and is supposed to be very sweet. Should I risk it? Perhaps if it doesn't contain any fishy ingredients, I might think about it.

Tea plantations in the Cameron Highlands

BOH tea plantation

A visit to the Cameron Highlands is not complete without hiking to a tea plantation.

I found out that the first tea plantations have been started in Malaysia almost one hundred years ago by the Scottish. The plantations have been expanding ever since. Tea demand is soaring and expected to do so in the future. There is a shortage of manual labor to work on the plantations. Despite technical advances, lots of manual labor is still required to maintain the massive plantations on steep hillslopes.

Tea processing

The tea drying and packing process is automated in a factory. Bags of processed tea leaves are shipped to factories to Kuala Lumpur where they are flavored and packaged for mass distribution.

BOH tea plantation

The BOH tea plantation runs a restaurant where the various teas may be tasted. I tried the BOH Palas Supreme, one of their black teas.

Rafflesia, the world's largest flower

Rafflesia

Rafflesia, the world's largest flower is native to only 4 countries: Malaysia, Indonesia, Thailand and the Philippines. Botanically it's not really a flower as it is more closely related to mushrooms. But the bloom resembles a flower so it's often referred to as a flower. It's quite rare and delicate and not easy to find in the wild.

It took three hours of guide-led hiking through a muddy jungle to reach a place where we could see it. Here is the flower in its various stages of development:

Rafflesia shoot

Rafflesia, a few days to bloom

Rafflesia in full bloom

Rafflesia declining after blooming

For reference, this is how big the flower is:

Where's my jacket?

Hiking trail near Tanah Rata

I’ve been looking to go somewhere cooler after sweating in the heat of southeast Asia for the past two and a half months. I found just the place, Tanah Rata in the Cameron Highlands on peninsular Malaysia. I actually wear a jacket here which is not so simple because I had to empty the entire contents of my backpack to find my fleece jacket buried somewhere underneath all my stuff. It seems ages since I last used my jacket or anything with long sleeves.

Tanah Rata is somewhat like an Alpine village, except there’s no snow so it doesn’t transform into a ski resort in the winter. But it basically caters to tourists, so it’s full of hotels and guesthouses, restaurants and tourist attractions. Most of the tourists are from Malaysia who come here for their holiday retreats. They are quite chatty and when they approach me the conversation inevitably goes like this:

“Where are you from?”

“Slovenia.”

“Ah, yes, I know. Bratislava?”

“That’s Slovakia. I’m from Slovenia.”

“Czechoslovakia?”

“No, Yugoslavia.”

“Ah, yes, I know. Yugoslovenia.”

The conversation then steers in the direction where I ask them where they are from and they tell me all about their sister or uncle or cousin who runs a guesthouse in the town where they are from which I should visit.

A poinsettia bush in front of the golf course

I also noticed there are many Japanese tourists who come here to play tennis and golf. I met a few on hiking trails and I greeted them “Hello” and they answered “Konnichiwa”. I thought that was cute, I’ve never had anyone speak Japanese to me before.

Strawberries above and parsley below

The tourist attractions, other than hiking, are visits to strawberry farms, cactus nurseries and tea plantations. I started by hiking to a strawberry farm. They grow strawberries hydroponically, as well as vegetables and grapes. There is a restaurant that offers dozens of strawberry dishes, such as strawberry ice cream, strawberry muffins, strawberry milkshakes, chocolate fondue with strawberries, waffles with strawberry jam and so on.

Lettuce and strawberry shake

I had a big bowl of lettuce which is also grown on the farm and available in the restaurant. Oh, I missed lettuce so much!

Christmas spirit and so much more in Kuala Lumpur

Petronas towers

My mission in Kuala Lumpur was simple. I wanted to visit the Petronas towers and gorge on Indian food from street stalls. Mission accomplished.

View of Kuala Lumpur from the KL tower

But there’s so much more to Kuala Lumpur, it’s overwhelming. As I expected, it’s a space age city with endless arrays of some of the tallest skyscrapers in the world, including the Petronas towers, the currently second tallest buildings in the world. To add to the space age theme, the monorail – one of the public transport systems – frequently swishes by.

Enjoying a Carlsberg

Food from almost any imaginable world cuisine can be found either on street stalls or in countless food courts in air-conditioned malls. There are Italian restaurants that advertise live Bollywood music, bars that promote Carlsberg as Malaysia’s favorite beer, Mexican restaurants that offer water pipes. There are Chinese, Indian, Vietnamese, Taiwanese, Portuguese, German, Austrian and who could remember what other countries in addition to Malay restaurants to choose from. As if that wasn't enough, add all the world's fast food chains into the mix. I was so glad I already had Indian food in mind before facing all the food choices in front of me otherwise I don't how I would have made a decision.

Christmas spirit in a shopping mall

The shopping mall under the Petronas towers is decorated with Christmas themed stuff that would feel at home anywhere in the Western world. A choir performed Christmas carols which made the atmosphere even more authentic. I really didn’t expect so much Christmas in Asia.

Teenage girls in multicolored wigs

All day long I kept on running into teenagers wearing electric blue or candy pink or green or orange colored wigs. I have no idea who they were or why they were dressed up that way, the most logical explanation would be that there was some sort of anime festival going on in the city.

Yes, Kuala Lumpur is overwhelming, but in a positive sense. It's hot but there are so many air-conditioned places everywhere it's easy to take refuge from the heat. The traffic behaves nicely. It doesn't even concern me that they drive on the left. In Phnom Penh I have become accustomed to looking all four ways before crossing the street so it's a relief that traffic in Kuala Lumpur comes from only one direction at a time. Now if only I could decide what to eat tomorrow...

Leaving Cambodia

Cheers!

It's time to leave Cambodia. It's been ... what should I say? … I loved it? I hated it? I endured it? I was awed by it? I can’t summarize it with just one expression. It was a little of each. Mostly, I loved it. But still it bothers me. It’s so dirty. The streets are dirty. The establishments are dirty. And I’m not even comparing it to the Western world. I’m comparing it to Laos, the much poorer neighboring country. Despite its poverty, I didn’t see any garbage lying around in Laos. In Cambodia, it’s as if they’re saying “Hey, look at me, I’m poor and this gives me permission to dump my garbage however I want!”

Vendor at the fish market

The people seem laid back. They don’t hurry to do anything. Rather, they wouldn’t do much at all. They needed to be reminded repeatedly when I wanted anything, such as repairing the water heater, cleaning my room or refilling the water filtering device. But I know it’s just the way they are. Time flows more slowly in these parts of the world. They don’t hurry and they don’t stress out. As I already know from my experience in South Africa, the only way to blend into this environment is to go with the flow. Slowly, calmly, patiently.

I probably shouldn't generalize. I also dealt with many local people who work really hard. The enterprising tout in Kratie is an example. He sold me everything I bought there as he always seemed to find me when I was looking for something. I know I was paying him a commission for the bicycle rental and the bus ticket, but he saved me the trouble of finding it myself and I was happy to pay for his service. Also, the people at the organization where I work stay long hours and even come to work on the weekends sometimes. They really set an example and it gives me a greater sense of satisfaction that I volunteer my time where it is appreciated.

I met so many friendly local people, at work, at my guesthouse and even at a few places where I went to eat on a regular basis (I usually bought my mango shake from the same stall). Unfortunately, I don’t speak Khmer and most of the locals speak only basic English so it was difficult to have conversations, although I had the feeling that many of them, both men and women, would have liked to chat.

In addition to meeting local people, I enjoyed staying at the guesthouse and socializing with other volunteers who worked in various non-governmental organizations in Cambodia. They came from many different parts of the world, most of the them with the same purpose as me: to enrich our travel experience by helping the poorest and making a difference in the world.

Aerobics at the Olympic Stadium

I'm looking forward to returning to Cambodia in the future. If for nothing else, to do another round of aerobics on top of the Olympic stadium.

Contrasts

Golden Dragon, Phnom Penh

Cambodia is a country of contrasts. It's not my original thought, I've heard it said over and over by people who have visited the country. Being here, I experience such contrasts every day.

There are modern skyscrapers under construction alongside basic shacks by the railroad tracks where the poor people live. Fancy restaurants with every world cuisine imaginable where a dinner likely costs upwards of 25 USD while a few steps away, at the central market, a main meal can be bought from a stall for 1,50 USD. Upscale beauty salons that advertise haircuts for 22 USD but I went to a local hairdresser to have my hair cut for 2 USD.

Modern air-conditioned cars drive on the roads, many of them huge 4WD models, with Toyota by far the most popular make. Among them, hundreds or perhaps thousands of locals on their motorcycles, tuk-tuks and bicycles wiggle their way, sprinkled with an occasional bicycle rickshaw powered by an emaciated old man.

While many of the local people are poor, making a living on a few US dollars per day, there are also those who overstepped poverty and seem to be living in relative comfort. The family who owns the guesthouse where I’m staying, for example. They send their two boys to an international primary school and they can afford to buy a remote-controlled helicopter for one of the boys on his birthday.

I also met an obviously well situated local young woman, a consultant where I work. She graduated in sociology from the Phnom Penh University and she consults on a freelance basis with non-governmental organizations in conducting surveys. Her background image on her laptop computer is one of her in front of the Universal Studios theme park in Singapore where she had been recently on vacation.

Many Cambodians dream of landing a job in Thailand, the region’s economic leader, where – if they’re lucky and find a job – they migrate to earn money to send back home to their families. Contrarily, I met Thai tourists traveling in Laos and Cambodia who seem to be dreaming of working “abroad”, wherever that may be. One young Thai girl asked me whether it would be possible to get a job in my country (not knowing or even caring where Slovenia is) because she had heard from her English teacher that “one Euro is many, many baht”.

I guess it all boils down to the fact that everyone is looking for ways to improve their standard of living, whether it’s to escape poverty or just to earn more money.

Bags of cash on a motorcycle

Company vehicle

I never imagined that my microfinance job in Cambodia would involve riding on a motorcycle with bags full of cash. As it turned out, that’s exactly what I did.

I accompanied an employee of the organization where I work to one of his microloan disbursement assignments. I was the passenger sitting behind him on the company-owned motorcycle. We drove on narrow paths through villages in the suburbs of Phnom Penh, trying to avoid fresh mud, chickens, small children and everything else that was in our way.

People gather around to witness microloan disbursment

We stopped at several houses where families had previously applied for microloans and had them approved. The money was handed over to the beneficiaries in stacks of cash. They had to sign the loan contract along with a guarantor. It is our organization’s policy that family members are not allowed to be loan guarantors, therefore the beneficiaries typically ask their neighbors to co-sign. The entire procedure becomes a huge village affair, because the neighbors have to be called and after that many people gather to watch, laugh, chat, and socialize in general.

Signing with a fingerprint
(The husband is signing. The wife
is pointing to instruct him how to do it properly.)

When my colleague pulled out a purple stamp pad, I assumed that he would stamp the papers with an official stamp. Surprisingly, people pressed their fingers against the pad and affixed their fingerprint to the loan contract. It was confusing to me because I believed that only illiterate people sign documents with fingerprints and it wasn’t my impression that Cambodians were illiterate.

Later, I asked the director of our organization about the fingerprinting procedure and he explained that according to Cambodian law all official documents - such as bank papers - have to be signed with a fingerprint.

"That's interesting," I commented. To which he replied incredulously, “Don’t you sign papers with a fingerprint in your country?”

“Um, no," I explained, "in fact I think it might even be illegal to take fingerprints by someone other than the police.”

It was now his turn to comment, "That's interesting."

I do wonder what good the fingerprints do them. For example, if a beneficiary was trying to flee the country to avoid repaying the loan, how would they catch her? Would they take her fingerprints at the border and then – just like in a CSI episode – scan the databases to see if she has any outstanding debts? I very much doubt that they digitize the fingerprints. The whole fingerprinting charade is probably a relic of some old regime.

Unusual fruits

Fruits at the market

Although I’m not much of a fruit lover, I try to eat healthily while I travel and with the abundance of fruits at the local markets, I often end up eating fruit for lunch.

My favorite fruit remains the pineapple. I can get it almost everywhere, served nicely peeled and chopped in a bag with a wooden skewer. Occasionally I buy a mango, either the green and sour kind that they sprinkle with chili flakes, also served chopped in a bag, or the sweet orange variety, most often as a shake.

If I’m still hungry after just fruit, I supplement my lunch with a bunch of bananas. Sometimes it’s difficult to choose from the many varieties: small and yellow, large and green and everything in between.

I did make an effort to try the more unusual fruits that are found around here. There is the durian, the smelly fruit which I tried once and probably won't again. The taste is just as weird as the smell.

Durian

Sections of durian flesh

The rambutan is quite tasty as well as easy to peel and eat. It's very similar to lychee by taste but is more spiky on the outside.

Rambutan

Rambutan

The mangosteen is not one of my favorites, but the one I tried might not have been fresh as some of the inside sections were starting to turn brown.

Mangosteen

Mangosteen

The dragon fruit or pitaya looks much better that it tastes, in fact, it doesn’t have much of a taste at all. They often add it to fruit salads for its interesting pattern.

Dragon fruit

Dragon fruit

They serve coconut as a drink by drilling a hole and inserting a straw. It’s nice to try fresh coconut water once but I don't like the taste too much.

Coconut

They sell many more types of fruits, such as watermelons, mandarin oranges, grapes, apples and pears that are known to me as well as a bunch of others with which I haven't yet experimented and I still have no idea what they are.

Street hospital

Baby with intravenous drip exiting a clinic

I often see people with intravenous drips walking or riding the streets of Phnom Penh. It’s a strange sight that makes me wonder what are they doing outside of a hospital?

It makes more sense now that I’ve been told that people typically get drips for severe bouts of stomach problems and diarrhea. Children and babies are especially at risk for dehydration so they are the ones most frequently on drips. They don't stay in the hospital but are just sent home with everything attached.

I used to believe that only tourists have problems with their digestive systems when they visit Asia. But the locals get them just as well. They seem to just accept it, explaining that it’s a common ailment in this hot weather. I have been here long enough by now to realize why this most likely happens in hot weather. They don’t refrigerate the food and they let it spoil in the heat – and then they eat it. It’s no wonder they get sick. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to pay much attention to storing food in more hygienic conditions.

As for walking around with the drips, I’m also wondering how safe that is. What if the tube gets tangled and pulled? How hygienic is it to be outside in the polluted air? And they don’t just walk with the drips. As might be expected in a country where everyone goes everywhere on their motorcycle, they ride a motorcycle with the drip. It’s not unusual to see a family on a motorcycle where the father drives, the child with the drip sits in the middle and the mother sits in the back, holding the drip bag high above. I’ve also seen similar arrangements of three girls on a motorcycle, the middle one with the drip and the one at the back holding the bag. Sometimes, just two people ride, where one drives and the other holds their own bag.

The above photo depicts a frequent sight in front of a children’s clinic across the street from our guesthouse.

A wedding on our street

Wedding tent on our street

The blasting music jolted me awake. I remembered the wedding tent they were assembling on our street yesterday, but paid it no attention. They had my attention now, at 5:11 in the morning. Do they really get married this early? Yes, they do.

By the time I decided I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep due to the loud music, got up and dressed and went down to the front terrace of my guesthouse for breakfast, the wedding was in full swing. Beautifully dressed people were returning in a procession from the temple where the wedding ceremony took place and were settling down in their tent for breakfast.

They told us that the music must be played so loudly so that everyone is aware of the wedding taking place. They did well in that respect. Everyone in our guesthouse was aware.

Wedding procession

Weddings – and funeral wakes – usually take place on the street. I often see similar tents in various streets in Phnom Penh, sometimes they block traffic and police are included in the wedding party to redirect traffic. It's so efficient, not having to book a banquet hall for the reception but just using the street

Christmas tree in my guesthouse
(other mandatory artifacts: beer, motorcycle, Buddhist shrine)

In addition to the wedding, another surprise awaited us this morning. The staff at our guesthouse decorated a Christmas tree for us. It was so thoughtful of them as they are Buddhists and don’t celebrate Christmas.

Speaking Slovenian on Otres beach

Otres beach

It was no coincidence I went to Mushroom point on Otres beach near Sihanoukville for the holiday weekend (Cambodia is very generous with holidays; in the five weeks I've been working here, three of them had holidays). I knew Mushroom point is run by people from Slovenia so I thought I would pay them a visit.

There were a bunch of Slovenian people, in addition to the three people who run the place there are two more Slovenians who work there, there was another tourist from Slovenia besides me and two more Slovenian guys who live in Sihanoukville where they operate a shoe factory dropped by for a drink. I could speak Slovenian again after two months on the road.

The touristy section of Otres beach

The area around Otres beach is full of hotels, guesthouses and bungalows, each with its beach bar, music, happy hour, cocktails and barbecues. But despite the concentration of tourist facilities – which were mostly full for the holiday weekend – it didn’t feel crowded. There is a lot of beach and walking just 5 minutes away from all the action it's completely empty.

The weekend was spent relaxing, drinking beer and chatting with all the Slovenian people who were gathered there.

Mushroom point is a bit on the expensive side for my budget. But I do allow myself the occasional luxury when I travel so for the two days I stayed there the cost was acceptable.

To clarify, in the context of traveling in Asia, “luxury” means that

• my coffee is served in a cup that’s actually clean;
• the faucet is attached to the sink, saving me the acrobatics of holding the faucet with two hands while at the same time trying to open the tap and wash my hands;
• the drains drain and the drainpipes are attached to the sink so that water doesn’t shower down my feet when I run water in the sink;
• the light switches are firmly screwed to the walls and they work;
• no sparks fly when I plug in my computer.

But still, this is Cambodia. I was startled when one of the local employees at the guesthouse walked into my bathroom early in the morning, towel and soap in hand, apparently wanting to take a shower. It was my private bathroom for which I paid a fair amount of money. He was just as startled when he saw me, probably not expecting me to be up so early, and disappeared immediately. I’m sure he had been told not to use the guests’ bathrooms but if no one sees him, why not?

Beertasting German beers in Cambodia

The taproom

Kingdom Breweries is probably the only microbrewery in Cambodia. It originated in the Phnom Penh expat community, who raised capital and hired a German to make them decent beer.

They produce three types of beer: a pilsener, a lager and a dark lager. I tried them all at the monthly all-you-can-drink and all-you-can-eat beertasting event which also included a tour of the brewery.

Pilsener

Lager

Dark lager

The beers taste like German Bavarian beers as might be expected if a German makes them. They’re light and watery, well suited to the hot climate where a heavy beer wouldn’t go down as well. They produce more beer than the expat community can drink so they sell the surplus on the local market and even export some to Hong Kong.

The German brewer leads the tour

The German manager personally led the brewery tour. We found out that the factory equipment was designed in Germany, produced in Eastern Europe (he didn’t say which country) and delivered to Cambodia ready to be assembled. The malt and hops are all imported from Germany and the Czech Republic. He explained that barley and hops can’t grow in tropical climates therefore all beers that are produced in the tropics are either made from imported ingredients or from substitutes such as corn or cassava.

The accompanying food was burgers from Mike’s Burger House, a local fast food chain where I occasionally join other volunteers for lunch. A good thing I decided to take a break from eating rice every day, twice a day by going for a burger. That’s where I found out about the beertasting.

Running the Angkor Wat Half Marathon was the best decision I ever made

I did it!

Running the Angkor Wat International Half Marathon was The. Best. Decision. I. Ever. Made. In my life.

If you had asked me a month ago, or even a week ago, I might have said, “Registering for the Angkor Wat Half Marathon was the stupidest decision I ever made!”

Back home in September, when I was searching the internet for running events, it seemed such a good idea. I was going to be in Cambodia in December and there was a half marathon and why not, let’s register.

When I arrived in southeast Asia at the beginning of October, it hit me: how am I ever going to run in this oppressive heat and humidity? Why did I so stupidly register without checking the weather first? Who runs marathons in such humidity anyway?

What to do? How am I going to train? I could still skip the race, I thought. I didn’t tell many people that I was registered so I wouldn’t have to deal with too much humiliation by admitting failure. I could look for air-conditioned gyms near where I was staying and run on the treadmill. Or I could grind my teeth and bear it. The marathon itself would take place in such weather and I might as well get used to it.

So I did.

***

Picking up my race number
with a map of the course behind me

We arrived in Siem Reap, the nearest town, a few days prior to the race for sightseeing. Another volunteer who works in Phnom Penh was entered in the 10 km race and we came together. My roommate also joined us, as the cheerleading squad and photographer.

On the Thursday before the race I could see they were already setting up the course. I noticed the 18 kilometer mark in front of the Bayon temple. In front of the Bayon temple! I can’t believe it, this is where I’m going to run? In the ancient city, passing by the awesome temples. I must be dreaming.

***

Race day.

Warm up

It’s dawning when we arrive. Warm up in front of Angkor Wat.

Start. Our tuk-tuk driver cheers me on.

3rd kilometer, 19 minutes. When did that happen, where did the first three kilometers go? I’m going too fast, my pace should be 7 minutes per kilometer.

I’m flying, I feel invincible, I know I’m going to finish this race. I’m running at Angkor Wat of all places! Nothing could stop me now.

The first water station. They distribute half liter bottles of water. I take the bottle, drink some and carry the rest with me, drinking as I go.

5th kilometer, 32 minutes. Too fast. Slow down. There’s still a long way to go.

I’m sweating by the bucket. Water stations are plentiful. I gulp down the entire half liter bottle at the next station. All together I drank five bottles during the race.

7th kilometer. I run beside an Asian guy. His backpack is talking to him, “You have run 7 kilometers in 47 minutes and 21 seconds.”

The kilometers fly by in a blur, I notice them but I stop counting. Children along the way give us high fives.

I let my imagination run wild. Once again, I’m Lara Croft (I know, I watch too many action movies), chasing bad guys while behind me giant trees with roots like octopus tentacles are grabbing to strangle me. OK, wake up. It’s just a running race.

Victory gate

16th kilometer. The Victory gate entrance into the Angkor Thom city. Do I run or do I stop to take a photo? Who cares about my finish time, I have to take the photo. My hands are sweaty and I fiddle with the touch screen on my phone. There isn’t a square centimeter of dry clothing on me where I could wipe my hand. I wave in the air to dry so I could operate my phone.

Dropouts at the Terrace of Elephants

17th kilometer. The Terrace of Elephants. Another photo, my finish time doesn’t matter any more. The couple in front of me are debating dropping out of the race. They go straight up the stairs onto the terrace, sightseeing. Forget the race.

Taking photos in front of the Bayon temple

18th kilometer. The Bayon temple. Another photo opportunity. I take a photo of other runners taking photos.

Tourists are approaching

19th kilometer. It’s now close to 9:00 AM and the tourists are pouring in. They take photos of us runners. We must have been a tourist attraction, some crazy people running in such heat.

20th kilometer. I can see Angkor Wat, almost there.

Finish!

My certificate of completion

My time wasn’t the best ever but I still placed 526th out of 840 women finishers. I’m thrilled! The winner of the women's race was from Sweden, of all places. How does a Swede win a marathon in Asia is beyond me. Perhaps she lives here.

Now what?

My original plan was that if I survive the Angkor Wat Half Marathon, I wouldn’t run any more while I’m traipsing around hot and humid Asia.

But I’m too excited. It was so amazing, I can’t believe I did it! Nothing hurts, I’m not even tired. Let’s Google for more running events in the near future. Stay tuned…

***

U.K., the official chauffeur

Despite my elation, there was someone else who was the happiest person alive on race day. Look at U.K., our devoted tuk-tuk driver, he’s grinning from ear to ear. Not every tuk-tuk driver gets the honor of being the official chauffeur for a Marathon. He was even more excited to be there than we were. And he takes tourists sightseeing every day, he must have seen the temples hundreds of times. But seeing his tourists run - that was a once in a lifetime event for him.