Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Sokha

In Sihanoukville I just went there to check out the spa and ended up staying. Sasha remember we stayed in a 4 star hotel once before in Bangkok and I did not think it such a big deal? But this place has its own private beach and it is spectacular. Especially after seeing Ochheuteal Beach. I spent only one night there. There they have completely covered the beach with shitty beachfront restaurants where the ocean laps the concrete foundations at high tide. Because of the crappy chaotic atmosphere the place is loaded with moto crooks, hustlers, pimps and beggars. Rape and stabbings are not uncommon as is the drunken behaviour that invites it.

Its funny how this big corporate hotel comes closer to fulfilling a Communist ideal. Sohka has 180 rooms and I don't doubt that Ochheuteal has more than twice or three times that. But the footprint of the main building on Sohka, including its dreamy lagoon shaped swimming pool, takes up less than a sixth of the space. It is about 30 meters back from the beachfront leaving the waters edge pristine. Nothing is built on it save a stone seawall and lamp lit walk way. Because of the efficiency of site and scale it probably requires many fewer people to run it, makes less of a negative ecological impact, and is a billion times more secure and pleasant.

It would be so easy for the multitude of owners on Ochheuteal to form a co-operative, build a simple place back from the ocean and have a low cost version of Sohka that would be far more beautiful and pleasant to visit.

But it will never happen. People are far too ignorant and greedy to create something wonderful like that, even though ultimately it would probably be far more lucrative.

This is a place I will surely return. Especially during the rainy season when the rooms are more than 50% off. Yes, the New Englander in me was satisfied too. It rained perhaps only 1 hour out of every day. The rest was brilliant sunshine.

As I stood at the checkout desk I heard an animal howling. It sounded like a dog was being beaten. I scanned the vast lobby but couldnt figure out where the sound was coming from. Then the receptionist said to me:
"She crying."

I saw in one of the alcoves a young Khmer woman with long black hair. Her back was to me. She held her head in her hands. Facing her was some westerner guy with a balding grey pate. His face was a sunburnt red. I had never heard a sound like that come out of a human. A sound so unabashedly mournful and full of pain.

No comments: