Transportation in Cambodia is an interesting proposition. Probably the fiercest drivers I’ve ever seen anywhere in the world were in Greece last summer. Greek drivers (at least the ones in Thessaloniki) never, ever brake for pedestrians. Stepping out in front of an approaching car there is sheer suicide.
But, hands down, the most chaotic drivers I’ve ever seen are in Cambodia. (At least the Greek drivers I observed stopped for red lights.) In Cambodia, anything goes. Drivers routinely run red lights; they create new traffic patterns at will; they dangerously weave in and out of traffic; they unexpectedly make left turns or U-turns without any rhyme or reason; they straddle lanes and even create new ones; they even go in the wrong direction in the face of oncoming traffic if it serves their purposes. Like the Hebrew people during the time of the Book of Judges, every driver in Cambodia does what is right in his own eyes.
When riding as a passenger in Cambodia, it’s best not to look too closely at what’s unfolding right in front of you. Your trip tends to go a lot smoother (and you avoid potential cardiac arrhythmia) if you somehow don’t see all those close calls and near misses. The best advice I can give is to just relax, trust the Lord, trust your driver, and sit somewhere in the back of the van if possible.
By the way, our van driver was absolutely great. A wonderful young Christian man, he flawlessly drove us through some real tight spots. The only mishap we had during his two weeks of shuttling us from place to place was getting stuck in the mud one day on an unpaved road on an island in route to a remote village. But, thanks to some guys that came to our aid and pushed us, we were out of the mire in just a few minutes.
Back in the city of Phnom Penh the streets were almost always clogged with traffic. Donald Merricks daily posed the question, “Where are all these people going?” It was a mystery we never solved. (Ironically, later this month, Delegate Merricks will be in Richmond for a special session of the state legislature called by the governor to address transportation problems in our state. I suggested to him that he make a speech on the House floor that, after experiencing Cambodian traffic for two weeks, Virginia, by comparison, really has no transportation problems at all!)
The most common form of ground transportation in Phnom Penh is the moto (i.e., small motorcycle). The motos greatly outnumber the cars on the streets. One can only shudder to imagine how much more severe the transportation problems in Cambodia would be if all the moto drivers had cars instead!
The most interesting thing about the motos is how many people pile on them. Sometimes whole families will all be stacked up on a little moto, kind of like the Clampetts all packed in together with Granny in her rocking chair up on top. Sometimes you’ll see the bizarre sight of a young lady decked out in a formal evening gown and high 
heels on her way to wedding, dangling from the back of a moto. Often Buddhist priests in their long flowing robes can be seen riding as passengers on motos. Truly, motos are the premier taxis and limos of Cambodia.
But you’ll find much more than just people on a moto. Motos are also the U-Hauls of Cambodia. We saw moto drivers carrying crates of live pigs, baskets of fruit and vegetables, dead ducks—yes, literally! (Can anyone say “Aflac”?)—bicycles, large pieces of lumber, furnishings, plumbing, you name it. Everything but the kitchen sink! And if we had stayed one more day, we might have seen that as well.
The most exotic form of transportation we experienced during our trip was riding on the back of an elephant. I would love to tell you that we had to ride elephants to traverse some otherwise impassible terrain. That would make for a great mission story, wouldn’t it? But the truth is, it was simply an opportunity several of us seized upon one morning while waiting to meet up with our host. Two by two, we took turns riding the elephant through a park area that encircled a lofty temple. Wild 
monkeys (as well as other onlookers) gawked at us as we rode by. Being perched high atop a pachyderm wasn’t exactly the smoothest ride Sandy and I’ve ever experienced, but it sure was the most unusual. I learned that people definitely get out of your way when you’re riding on an elephant. I’m just glad that Tarzan wasn’t around to do his trademark yell and suddenly create a stampede.
The most unusual form of transportation we observed, however, occurred one day as we passed by the King’s Palace. A special ceremony was taking place and, from a distance, we
could see an elegant procession that included some important person seated in a chair carried on the shoulders of a group of servants. The figure did not appear to be that of the king (with whose image we were familiar) but someone else, perhaps the nation’s prime minister. Anyway, riding in a chair on the backs of servants is not a mode of transportation you see everyday, at least not here in Danville.
Now, a word about our air transportation. We made our trip to Asia on Korean Airlines, one of the world’s finest commercial air carriers. In fact, in 2007, they won an award for best economy class in the world. Truly, the new Korean Air jets offer more leg room than most of the international flights I’ve been on. And that’s a real benefit when you’re looking at the prospect of a grueling 15-hour flight. Plus, Korean Air has exceptionally good service. 
Their flight attendants are very polished, polite and efficient. In fact, the airline has won plaudits for the stylish and elegant high-fashion look of their attendants’ uniforms. The only downside to their otherwise wonderful service is that they don’t always bring you enough fluids to drink (at least by American standards). And, sometimes the Asian dishes can be less than desirable for the Western palate. One day, for example, we were given the choice of an omelet or pumpkin porridge for breakfast. (Yes, you read that right…pumpkin porridge!) Amazingly, Roger McNeil and I 
chose the porridge. I suppose I had eaten so many omelets (such as they were) at our hotel in Phnom Penh that I just couldn’t bear the thought of another egg. Surely the porridge couldn’t be that bad, I rationalized. Well, after just one bite, Roger and I both knew that we had made a disastrous mistake. We immediately decided to forgo the remainder of our meal. When Donald Merricks—seated behind us—heard we had chosen the porridge, he said, “Hey, guys, this isn’t Goldilocks and the Three Bears!” Oh, well, you live and learn sometimes. Other than the porridge incident, I was quite happy with Korean Air.
Pastor Danny
But, hands down, the most chaotic drivers I’ve ever seen are in Cambodia. (At least the Greek drivers I observed stopped for red lights.) In Cambodia, anything goes. Drivers routinely run red lights; they create new traffic patterns at will; they dangerously weave in and out of traffic; they unexpectedly make left turns or U-turns without any rhyme or reason; they straddle lanes and even create new ones; they even go in the wrong direction in the face of oncoming traffic if it serves their purposes. Like the Hebrew people during the time of the Book of Judges, every driver in Cambodia does what is right in his own eyes.
When riding as a passenger in Cambodia, it’s best not to look too closely at what’s unfolding right in front of you. Your trip tends to go a lot smoother (and you avoid potential cardiac arrhythmia) if you somehow don’t see all those close calls and near misses. The best advice I can give is to just relax, trust the Lord, trust your driver, and sit somewhere in the back of the van if possible.
By the way, our van driver was absolutely great. A wonderful young Christian man, he flawlessly drove us through some real tight spots. The only mishap we had during his two weeks of shuttling us from place to place was getting stuck in the mud one day on an unpaved road on an island in route to a remote village. But, thanks to some guys that came to our aid and pushed us, we were out of the mire in just a few minutes.
Back in the city of Phnom Penh the streets were almost always clogged with traffic. Donald Merricks daily posed the question, “Where are all these people going?” It was a mystery we never solved. (Ironically, later this month, Delegate Merricks will be in Richmond for a special session of the state legislature called by the governor to address transportation problems in our state. I suggested to him that he make a speech on the House floor that, after experiencing Cambodian traffic for two weeks, Virginia, by comparison, really has no transportation problems at all!)
The most common form of ground transportation in Phnom Penh is the moto (i.e., small motorcycle). The motos greatly outnumber the cars on the streets. One can only shudder to imagine how much more severe the transportation problems in Cambodia would be if all the moto drivers had cars instead!
The most interesting thing about the motos is how many people pile on them. Sometimes whole families will all be stacked up on a little moto, kind of like the Clampetts all packed in together with Granny in her rocking chair up on top. Sometimes you’ll see the bizarre sight of a young lady decked out in a formal evening gown and high 
heels on her way to wedding, dangling from the back of a moto. Often Buddhist priests in their long flowing robes can be seen riding as passengers on motos. Truly, motos are the premier taxis and limos of Cambodia.
But you’ll find much more than just people on a moto. Motos are also the U-Hauls of Cambodia. We saw moto drivers carrying crates of live pigs, baskets of fruit and vegetables, dead ducks—yes, literally! (Can anyone say “Aflac”?)—bicycles, large pieces of lumber, furnishings, plumbing, you name it. Everything but the kitchen sink! And if we had stayed one more day, we might have seen that as well.
The most exotic form of transportation we experienced during our trip was riding on the back of an elephant. I would love to tell you that we had to ride elephants to traverse some otherwise impassible terrain. That would make for a great mission story, wouldn’t it? But the truth is, it was simply an opportunity several of us seized upon one morning while waiting to meet up with our host. Two by two, we took turns riding the elephant through a park area that encircled a lofty temple. Wild 
monkeys (as well as other onlookers) gawked at us as we rode by. Being perched high atop a pachyderm wasn’t exactly the smoothest ride Sandy and I’ve ever experienced, but it sure was the most unusual. I learned that people definitely get out of your way when you’re riding on an elephant. I’m just glad that Tarzan wasn’t around to do his trademark yell and suddenly create a stampede.The most unusual form of transportation we observed, however, occurred one day as we passed by the King’s Palace. A special ceremony was taking place and, from a distance, we
could see an elegant procession that included some important person seated in a chair carried on the shoulders of a group of servants. The figure did not appear to be that of the king (with whose image we were familiar) but someone else, perhaps the nation’s prime minister. Anyway, riding in a chair on the backs of servants is not a mode of transportation you see everyday, at least not here in Danville.
Now, a word about our air transportation. We made our trip to Asia on Korean Airlines, one of the world’s finest commercial air carriers. In fact, in 2007, they won an award for best economy class in the world. Truly, the new Korean Air jets offer more leg room than most of the international flights I’ve been on. And that’s a real benefit when you’re looking at the prospect of a grueling 15-hour flight. Plus, Korean Air has exceptionally good service. 
Their flight attendants are very polished, polite and efficient. In fact, the airline has won plaudits for the stylish and elegant high-fashion look of their attendants’ uniforms. The only downside to their otherwise wonderful service is that they don’t always bring you enough fluids to drink (at least by American standards). And, sometimes the Asian dishes can be less than desirable for the Western palate. One day, for example, we were given the choice of an omelet or pumpkin porridge for breakfast. (Yes, you read that right…pumpkin porridge!) Amazingly, Roger McNeil and I 
chose the porridge. I suppose I had eaten so many omelets (such as they were) at our hotel in Phnom Penh that I just couldn’t bear the thought of another egg. Surely the porridge couldn’t be that bad, I rationalized. Well, after just one bite, Roger and I both knew that we had made a disastrous mistake. We immediately decided to forgo the remainder of our meal. When Donald Merricks—seated behind us—heard we had chosen the porridge, he said, “Hey, guys, this isn’t Goldilocks and the Three Bears!” Oh, well, you live and learn sometimes. Other than the porridge incident, I was quite happy with Korean Air.Pastor Danny
