Rapid Transition – Phnom Penh, Cambodia

By: Sara Ogle

Rapid Transition
Phnom Penh, Cambodia

Adopt a moto driver. Change the world.

Nothing is more indicative of Cambodia’s changing face than its moto
drivers. Like an invading army, droves of humming motos infest every nook
and back alley of Cambodia in a frenzy that rises suddenly at 6 a.m. and
lasts into the wee hours.

Arriving in Phnom Penh on Royal Phnom Penh Airways, chartered for a one-way
price of $85, a $7 taxi took me to the $5 per night
guesthouse. It was the last car I’d ride in for two weeks. Casually
loitering outside the guesthouse, the six or so expectant moto drivers had
already claimed their customers. “You go with me? Tomorrow? I take you
seeing famous place. Cheap,” they said. “Remember me.”

In Cambodia, of course, there’s a local moto price and substantially higher
tourist price. But at 1000 Riel (25 cents) to anywhere in Phnom Penh, or $6
for dawn till dusk service, moto travel is still dirt-cheap. Not only are
motos the most efficient way to navigate Cambodia’s gauntlet of semi-paved
routes, the loyal drivers make excellent tour guides as well. Many speak a
little English as well as French, Japanese, German, Thai and other tourist
jargon.

While opting to rent motos is relatively cheap, from $3 to $6 per
day, hassles can be deterring. Tourists are often stopped for committing
“crimes,” despite the obvious lawless commotion, and expected to pay a
bribe. Poor road conditions and constant congestion lead to frequent
accidents. Attested by the abundance of moto repair shops, chances of
renting a functional moto are slim to none. It’s better to shell out the
extra buck and go with a driver.

With the average national income in Cambodia at $28 per year, its no
wonder the second job of choice is part-time moto driver. My Phnom Penh
driver Palyn taught high school math for $20 a month. My $6 per day,
therefore, was a substantial income boost. Additionally, conversing with
foreigners taught Palyn English, a necessary skill for his future success.
With Cambodia’s recent boom in tourism, English schools are in high demand
and springing up everywhere. But, at $80-100 for one course, usually
10 lessons, most can’t afford classes. However, lucky moto drivers do
occasionally find sponsors from abroad, a simple gift whose rewards can be
life changing.

Jan, an Canadian English teacher working in Siem Reap, adopted two moto
drivers, Seiha and Lim. She regretted she can’t adopt them all. A
certificate from her school, the Australian Center for Education, can mean
the difference between earning $6 a day as an Angkor Wat moto driver and $20
as a guide. Indeed, an American woman similarly adopted my Angkor Wat guide,
Rieng. Brought up in the impoverished provinces, he proudly acquired a new
one-room apartment in downtown Siem Reap. At 30 years old, Rieng represents
a majority of single, aging moto drivers who can’t afford the expense of a
Cambodian wedding. His new guide job could affirm a marriage arrangement
(usually made by the groom’s mother) and eventually children.

Women moto drivers are rare. Unfortunately, due to Cambodia’s impoverished
economy, women are the first have their education sacrificed. They are
needed in the home, cooking and selling to support their family’s basic
needs. Lim’s mother, for example, maintains a food stall along Siem Reap’s
Highway 6 with an array of exotic grilled birds, bugs and mystery meats.
After 10 hours slaving in day’s heat, she sets up at 5 p.m. and closes at 1
a.m. Jan’s reluctant answer to educating Cambodia women, therefore, is to
start with the men, the moto drivers. “Cambodian men must be able to support
their families,” she said.

Cambodia’s moto drivers today represent a triumph over an impoverished
nation devoid of dreams during the Communist rule. As Palyn stated, “Every
Cambodian dreams of owning their own moto, and eventually their own store.”
Around $1000 is all it takes. Although it appears moto drivers spend a lot
more time with the engine off, the moto’s mere presence boasts the driver’s
accomplishment. Often inseparable, the driver-moto pair can be spied eating,
washing and sleeping together. The moto brings a sense of place and duty, an
image. After the Khmer Rouge killed 15 relatives in 1978, this image means
everything to Palyn.

Khmera, owner of the newly purchased Okay Guesthouse in Phnom Penh,
described the daunting ladder he climbed after fleeing from the Khmer Rouge
for six years and seeing his father killed in the process. He started in
1984 selling cotton cloth with what little money he could borrow. Slowly, he
earned enough for his first moto. From there, Khmera and his brothers
scraped to build a fledgling guesthouse on the outskirts of Siem Reap.
Finally, at age 45, he bought his own place.

Finding a niche in the new tourist economy, Khmera’s family and future are
now successfully looking forward. This year he can afford to send all his
three children to English school. “I want my children to travel,” he said.
“I want them to know a world outside Cambodia.”

Today, motos are the dominant occupation of Cambodian men. With tourism
booming, it’s likely to grow further. Recently, moto drivers toting cell
phones are also commonplace, a testament to globalization and additional
status symbols.

Although things may be looking up, however, Cambodia is still devastatingly
poor. “Adopt a Moto,” is an unspoken charity truly crying out for aid.
Fortunately, more are more are donating.

Moto drivers are the visible link to Cambodia’s brightened future. Their
tools may be tiny, eclectic, puttering and sputtering, barely bumping their
way down barely there paths, but they will eventually find their ways toward
a new hope, freedom.

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