And in the end...

I am sitting on the bus to the airport. I just said goodbye to Ritchie. We made promises. He would visit Israel. We would stay friends for life. I hope this is all true. Jenny left for her new group this morning. The three of us were truly the three musketeers. We had a friendship and love that goes beyond words and I am forever grateful for that relationship. I feel like I have left something behind. Like my ipod is sitting on the dresser of the hotel still charging, like my toiletry bag is sitting on the bathroom vanity. Truth be told I am so exhausted right now it is a huge possibility that I forgot something, and its not just some psychosomatic, cliche for all the things I left behind. I liked who I was this past month and I hope I continue to be that person. I don't think I am different, just changed. I am looking forward to my life as a physician with an uncontrollable excitement. Witnessing the people of these countries and the joy that they hold despite the vast levels of poverty will forever stay with me as a lesson in humility and priorities.

I always feel like I am playing catch up with this journal. Admittedly it is a bit strange to be writing this after my trip has ended. I am filled with so many emotions from the end that it is difficult to give a good perspective on the trip itself. However, for the sake of finishing something I started I will do my best.

We arrived in Chang Dauc to find a rather sleepy river town. It became quickly clear that this town served as little more than a border crossing into Cambodia. It was a places that seemed untouched by tourism and has retained much of its old world charm. Our accommodations certainly reflected this but had a misbalance of too much old world and not enough charm. We took motobikes up a mountain to relax in hammocks, drink beer, and watch the sunset. This was quite a transition from my first motobike where I held on for dear life and imagined my mothers voice saying "Gary fell off the back of a motobike in the middle of Vietnam, we have to go there to claim the body" (She was shockingly calm about this). This time I held my arms free, raised them up like a roller-coaster, and gave people high-fives. We returned to the hotel to get some dinner. I ordered fish. This fish tank had four fish when we walked in to the restaurant and three when we walked out. I feel both omnipotent and ashamed.

I am happy to be leaving Vietnam. Everywhere I turn is a constant reminder of the war. This does not prove to beneficial for a relaxing vacation.

Me and Ritchie woke up at 5:00 am to grab some lunch for our boat ride and explore the morning market. Our efforts were fruitless, lunch was not available unless three day old grilled fish with bugs flying around it was at all appealing. We agree this early morning wake ups have gotten out of hand. We jumped on the boat and made our way through the Vietnam and Cambodia border checks. Entering Cambodia is like a breath of fresh air. It is nice to return to a religious country, it is something that comes through in the demeanor and energy of its people.

The afternoon is spent on the back of a cyclo being ushered around Phnom Phen. I have never felt like more of a tourist than when a man with a giant smile shouted at us "Welcome to Cambodia! Come see our poor people!!". Sarcasm is alive and well in Cambodia. As we were riding I looked up to see a bar that was as ivory tower as I could imagine, I was especially sensitive to it after our little interaction with the shouting man. I mumbled to myself "you will never find me there". I was overjoyed when our tour leader pulled over the cyclos, and ended our little trip to go get drinks in this fine establishment. Sarcasm is alive and well in Gary.

The following day was spent visiting sites that memorialized the atrocities of the Pol Pot regime, and the people lost in the tyranny. The last time I saw anything like this I was eighteen and in the polish death camps that killed my own people. Prisons. Killing fields. Instruments of death. An overwhelming morning.

We headed to lunch at a restaurant that supports a Cambodian orphanage. This was a nice reprieve from a rather difficult morning. After lunch we headed to a temple. I really missed visiting temples. While I visited some in Vietnam, they lacked the same spirit that was present in Laos and Thailand. It is much nicer to visit temples that are functioning temples, with monks roaming the grounds and people giving their alms.

I dragged everyone to a second temple where an eyebrow hair of Buddha had been buried. Lonely planet recommended skipping it, but it was more or less on the way. We walked around to the back and found the pagoda, where the hair had been buried. We were greeted by the most wonderful and smiley old man. He had such a warm presence and jumped up when we arrived. He took an immense amount of pride in the temple he kept and smiled ear to ear when simply saying its name. He unlocked the door of the pagoda and led us into a small alcove, where we ducked to get in. The room was cave-like, no larger than a walk in closet (not the MTV cribs walk in closet), with a large statue of Buddha taking up the bulk of the room. We kneeled in front of the statue and the man said a prayer and splashed us with holy water. The intimacy and authenticity of this moment made it one of my favorite experiences yet.

We jumped a tuk-tuk to the grand palace as it began to pour. When we arrived we found the palace had been closed two hours earlier than usual and seeing that we were leaving Phnom Phen the next morning we had missed it entirely. We grabbed another tuk-tuk and headed to a local market where me an Ritchie bought traditional Cambodian scarves called kramas. Cambodians use them for just about anything, from holding babies, covering heads, sarongs or towels. I used it to make me look more like a terrorist than I already do. Other tourists get nervous when I wear it - I find this hilarious and only continue to make it worse by covering my face with it. We finished the day by trying to find tarantula, a local delicacy, and failed so miserably we ended up at a Mexican restaurant. Worst margaritas ever.

The next morning we boarded a quick flight to Siem Reap home to one of the most impressive sites in the world the temples of Angkor Wat. After checking into the hotel we made our way to lunch. The afternoon began with intentions of visiting temple after temple and ended with the reality of much needed naps and massages. This was by far the best massage yet. This petite, sweet looking Cambodian girl beat the living shit out of me and almost had me in tears. No pain, no gain. We returned for a group dinner and went to bed for an early rise. Jenny showed up with breakfast and presents for us...Jenny is my favorite. We woke up at 3:45 am to make sunrise at Angkor Wat. When we arrived I separated from the group and sat with my ipod to watch in solitude. As the sun began to rise I saw one of mans greatest creations in the presence of one of Gods greatest creations. Tears streamed down my face. This moment was a culmination of so many things, my journey through Asia, and the beginning of my new life in Israel. I was filled with such a deep sense of gratitude and humility. Grateful for the things that were, and humbled by the things that are to come.

After touring the temples I was dropped off at a childrens hospital on the way back. The hospital is run by an eccentric swiss doctor who I will speak more of later, but who's philosophy is to ask the young travelers for blood, the old travelers for money, and everyone in between for both. While I am not that young, I am poor, and I have a good supply of blood. I suspect that giving blood in Cambodia wasn't the brightest of ideas, but leaving the donation room and seeing all the small children around the hospital made it worth it. I took a moto back to the hotel and a few of us went to the reservoir to swim. We were picked up by a tuk-tuk on the side of the road. When we arrived we hit a pot hole and the tire popped. The driver kept going. After he came to set us up with hammocks and tube we made plans to meet him later. We were the only westerners there, the hammocks were made of any left over fabrics and branches from trees driven into the ground. I decided not to swim for fear of infecting my wounds from giving blood. (yes wounds is plural, they missed the first few times).

Our driver returned an hour early from fixing his tire and I began talking to him about his life. He was 29 years old and had two kids. He had only bought tuk-tuk three months earlier and had saved for it by selling guide books on the street. He struggled to make ends meet because tuk-tuk drivers claim territories and he had none. He was very grateful for finding us on the road and told me that he was one the way back from giving alms to the monks. Through his charity he had profited ten-fold, Buddha was being good to him. It was nice to be a part of his miracle. We tipped him enough to pay for his tire as not to hinder his wonderful day in any way. We spent the afternoon touring more temples, each unique and magnificent. Dinner was spent celebrating our tour guides 29th birthday. Then we celebrated a bit more at the bar after dinner.

The next morning we saw more temples (you would think it gets old, it doesn't) and returned to the reservoir for some more R&R. In the evening several of us went to the childrens hospital. Every Saturday the swiss doctor who runs the hospital speaks, shows a film and plays his cello. I was incredibly happy that so many from our group ended up going. It was a heartbreaking thing to watch, but it gave us all a powerful sense of hope. I am so excited to become a doctor! The doctor played Kol Nidre, a Jewish prayer. It was an incredible thing to hear in the middle of Cambodia. Music, medicine, Judaism, everything that I am. I couldn't think of a better way to end my trip. We left the hospital and made a quick trip to the night market and called it a night.

Our last day together was spent on a twelve hour journey down unpaved muddy roads in Cambodia, crossing over into Thailand. Mud, gravel, and sludge make up this main highway. I thought the Jersey turnpike needed work. The majority of the group had taken the optional flight back to Bangkok for an extra few dollars, but at this point I just wanted to spend time with the people I was closest with, so we all took the bus. The drive proved to be a valuable one. It exposed us to a side of Cambodia we had not yet seen in the larger tourist cities. It is easy to get a misrepresented view by staying in the tourist hubs, but the poverty that exists in Cambodia is astonishing. Of the 24 provinces 23 are impoverished. The children are covered in dirty clothing, missing teeth, and open sores. Their parents train them to beg and some have gone so far as to grab hold of me and not let go. It is a constant internal struggle because while you feel manipulated, and you are angered by the parents, you also know they need it. Some times I would give and watch them run to their parents immediately with the cash, as their parents gave them a pat on the head. Walking along the streets late at night it is not uncommon to find families sprawled out sleeping across the sidewalk - and in the end this is why I continued to give. Hopefully, one day, I will come back and give something more substantial.

We arrived in Bangkok in record time and all took a moment to be shocked, depressed, mystified that our trip had come full circle and was only hours from being over. We went out for one last dinner as a group then went out drinking, it wasn't clear whether this was celebratory or mournful, but alcohol is always good at blurring lines. The rest of the evening was riddled with twists and turns that led to a bit of a dramatic end, but whats a good story without a powerful ending?

I woke up at six to take Jenny to her next group. She cried. I fought it. With her leaving it was the end of our trio, and the end of the trip. I decided to walk back to the hotel to reflect a bit. As I walked back I remembered I had seen a sign for the local Chabad House. I decided that after all the temples it was time to come home. Wrapping my self in teffilin and covering myself in a tallis even in Bangkok felt right, felt comfortable, felt like home. After all my traveling I realized that so much of what we search for is there all along, but a good reminder always helps. The rest of the day was a haze, we went to the palace, had lunch and massages, but my mind was elsewhere. Ritchie took me to my bus, and that leaves me here.

Twenty-Something Hours Later
I am less than an hour from landing. My traveling has ended, but the journey is really just beginning. Cliche, I know, but what's not cliche about going to Asia and finding some enlightenment.