2 dollars, 1 person, no tickets

After being ripped off a couple times by greedy moto-taxi drivers, Sylvan and I decided that it would be a good idea to rent a moto-bike and drive ourselves around Sihanoukville (Sihanoukville is along Cambodia's southern coastline). First stop, amazing waterfall. We'd heard a great deal about a waterfall a few miles out of time and decided to check it out for ourselves. Off the highway, at the end of a long dirt road surrounded by jungle, we found the entrance to the waterfall. A man stood outside what looked like a makeshift toll booth and had chained off one side of the road. He wore plain, dirty, clothes. He had no badge. There were no signs posted. In fact, except for the man and the chain, there wasn't much there at all. "Two dollars, one person." Now, normally, in the states, if someone is standing at a gait, even an unofficial looking gate, and asking for some sort of admission free to a park or something, I would pay them the two dollars and go about my merry way. Unfortunately in Cambodia, you can't just assume that things are what they seem. Everyone's trying to make a buck and Sylvan and I our tourists, which means we have money, which means that everyone is trying to make a buck off of us. Besides that, no one we spoke with mentioned an entrance fee and there was nothing in our guide book about it. Sylvan and I hesitated a moment and looked around. "There is no sign." I said to the man and outlined a box with my fingers. He didn't quite understand me but said in response, "No ticket. Two dollars, one person, no ticket." So this very unofficial man standing in front of a very unofficial chain, wanted us to fork over two dollars each, and give us no ticket or receipt in return. Sylvan and I have been scammed before but we have learned from our mistakes. No paper trail, no deal. We drove past the man and around the chain. He made a small attempt to stop us, but he was not match for our moto-bike and he knew it. We paid fifty cents for some kid to watch our bike, but Sylvan was still pretty uneasy about leaving the bike. Moto theft is common in this area.

The waterfall was beautiful. We walked around a bit and enjoyed noodle soup for lunch at one of the local food stalls. While we were eating, Sylvan spotted some kids near our bike playing with our helmets. Were were a few hundred meters away, but Sylvan walked over there and told them to knock it off. We went back to the waterfall after lunch and I played in the water a little. A tour group came in just as we were getting ready to go. The Cambodian tour guide greeted Sylvan and I as her tour group explored the falls. She asked us if we came to the waterfall on our own and if we had rented a moto-bike. She looked slightly concerned and said in broken English.
"It not safe. I from here. You not safe." I assumed that she meant it wasn't safe to ride a moto-bike on our own because the traffic here is crazy. I asked, "Because of an accident?" She replied, "No. Yes, that danger too." I could tell she was searching her brain for the correct English word. "The teef. Rubba. Tey shoot you." She formed a gun with her right hand. "Tey shoot you with a gun. Not safe. Last three year, happen." She must have seen my jaw drop because she followed up with, "but you be okay. I wish you good luck." I've never felt as nervous and sick as I did after she said that. I was scared the whole way home. On our way out, we noticed that the unofficial man at the gate had chained up both sides of the road. He was still no match for our dirt-bike as we zoomed around the chains. He made not attempt to stop us this time. A few hundred meters passed the gate, our bike ran out of gas. Sylvan was baffled at first because we had just filled up and there was no way we could have gone through the entire tank. He looked down and noticed that the fuel had been turned off and figured the little rascals that were playing with our helmets must have done it as a joke. He turned it back on and we went on our way. Half way home we nearly ran out of gas. Luckily we were near a gas station. Those little rascals stole our gas and if Sylvan hadn't gone over there, we might not have made it home. It is fairly safe to rent a moto-bike if you stick to main roads and don't go out at night, but after being scared half to death, I was thankful to have lived through another day.