And you thought I had bite the dust?
Damn wrong you were.
I'm back.
Here's the story so far, I was puzzled to hear the allegations made against Mr Hew within this span of ten days. Even my personal bodyguard/guide/tuk tuk driver questioned me about the allegations in Cambodia (ah lah) I could only smile at him, barely retaining my reputation through the silence that followed. Even though my personal bodyguard/guide/tuk tuk driver drove me around and explained in simple English about the origins of the brilliant Angkor Wat with its looming temples and detailed inscriptions cast upon by the bloody sun, I could barely concentrate out there. Words and descriptions only do injustice to the magnificence of the structures. Even so, my mind lingered around the accusations my poor friend had to handle back in Singapore.
I travelled around Cambodia, from Siem Reap to the capital, Phnom Penh, in order to confuse the authorities who were hot on my tail. By the 3rd day, I was wandering on the streets of the capital and stumbled upon the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, which was a former high school that was used by the Khmer Rouge regime as a prison: the buildings were enclosed in electrified barbed wire, the classrooms converted into tiny prison and torture chambers, and all windows were covered with iron bars and barbed wire to prevent escapes. I shuddered at the thought of being held captive in this institute. With some leverage over the pursuing police, I also managed to make my way to Choeung Ek, a memorial, marked by a Buddhist stupa, for the victims of the genocide (which inspired The Killing Fields film). Once again, a detour was made following Phnom Penh to the beaches of Sihanoukville, where many tourists and locals alike flocked on the beach like how ants make merry while frolicking over slops of honey. I spent a day there in front of the beach in self reflection and how I was to right the wrong in Singapore.
Powerless to join in the merry making lest the beach patrol notice my presence, i travelled by bus (12-hour ride, mind you) to Bangkok and settled in Khao San, a bustling night haven for tourists from all around the world. Fed on the constant staple of fried rice, pad thai, beer and massages, I got comfortable there. Too comfortable. I was nearly busted by the cops at Khao San for haggling with shop owners over T-shirts which barely cost several dollars. I escaped from the cheap guest-house which i was held captive and made my way back to Singapore via illegal means.
I met up with my counterpart right after landing and have understood the situation of how he was wrongfully accused. I am back. Whoever you are, San Tiao Zanji, I swore to hunt you down(like how I hunt for cheap bargains). Once again, I emphasize, we have not commented on our own posts to feign my growing reputation.
Do not walk alone after dusk. I am out for your blood.
To be continued.. (自己讲，自己爽）
Damn wrong you were.
I'm back.
Here's the story so far, I was puzzled to hear the allegations made against Mr Hew within this span of ten days. Even my personal bodyguard/guide/tuk tuk driver questioned me about the allegations in Cambodia (ah lah) I could only smile at him, barely retaining my reputation through the silence that followed. Even though my personal bodyguard/guide/tuk tuk driver drove me around and explained in simple English about the origins of the brilliant Angkor Wat with its looming temples and detailed inscriptions cast upon by the bloody sun, I could barely concentrate out there. Words and descriptions only do injustice to the magnificence of the structures. Even so, my mind lingered around the accusations my poor friend had to handle back in Singapore.
I travelled around Cambodia, from Siem Reap to the capital, Phnom Penh, in order to confuse the authorities who were hot on my tail. By the 3rd day, I was wandering on the streets of the capital and stumbled upon the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, which was a former high school that was used by the Khmer Rouge regime as a prison: the buildings were enclosed in electrified barbed wire, the classrooms converted into tiny prison and torture chambers, and all windows were covered with iron bars and barbed wire to prevent escapes. I shuddered at the thought of being held captive in this institute. With some leverage over the pursuing police, I also managed to make my way to Choeung Ek, a memorial, marked by a Buddhist stupa, for the victims of the genocide (which inspired The Killing Fields film). Once again, a detour was made following Phnom Penh to the beaches of Sihanoukville, where many tourists and locals alike flocked on the beach like how ants make merry while frolicking over slops of honey. I spent a day there in front of the beach in self reflection and how I was to right the wrong in Singapore.
Powerless to join in the merry making lest the beach patrol notice my presence, i travelled by bus (12-hour ride, mind you) to Bangkok and settled in Khao San, a bustling night haven for tourists from all around the world. Fed on the constant staple of fried rice, pad thai, beer and massages, I got comfortable there. Too comfortable. I was nearly busted by the cops at Khao San for haggling with shop owners over T-shirts which barely cost several dollars. I escaped from the cheap guest-house which i was held captive and made my way back to Singapore via illegal means.
I met up with my counterpart right after landing and have understood the situation of how he was wrongfully accused. I am back. Whoever you are, San Tiao Zanji, I swore to hunt you down(like how I hunt for cheap bargains). Once again, I emphasize, we have not commented on our own posts to feign my growing reputation.
Do not walk alone after dusk. I am out for your blood.
To be continued.. (自己讲，自己爽）
2 comments:
I love your blog very much. It brightens up my day every morning. I like the way your guys talk rubbish all the time and discuss about absolutely nothing at all.
good job!
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