Blogger in Japanese?

Okay, I could deal with Spanish. But trying to read the instructions for Blogger in Japanese is a whole new kind of crazy.

I'm not sure why it's in Japanese -- if anything, I'd expect it to be in Thai. Thailand kind of dominates Southeast Asia -- most flights are routed through Bangkok, which is largely the economic hub of the region.

My time in Bangkok was brief this time around. After 18 hours of flying on a Thursday and Friday that blurred into one confused day on three different planes, I got into Bangkok around 11pm, passed through passport control, and attempted to find my hotel.

The only hitch was that my taxi driver couldn't read English and had to consult with others to figure out what my reservation said. But that obstacle cleared, I went off to my airport hotel which was surprisingly nice for $24 per night. They even gave me a free ride to the airport, which I saw in all its glory during the daytime.

Bangkok's new airport is only a year old but is essentially an incredible high-end mall encased in glass. Everything is in both Thai and English, and everything is pretty expensive. The city is pretty overrun with tourists from Europe and the US alike, mostly wealthy tourists who like to shop for expensive things you can get anywhere else.

But I was off to Cambodia, which I got to courtesy of an overpriced ticket on Bangkok Airways. We landed in Siem Reap, the gateway to the impressive Angkor temples, at 9am. My first element of confusion was when I went to the ATM. I expected to do what I did in most foreign countries -- take out money in the local currency. Instead, the machine spit out $200 US, which I then changed into a ridiculously thick stack of riel, the local currency. Had I known every transaction here could be done in dollars, I wouldn't have bothered.

I went to get a taxi to the hotel as I had been told by the woman from Globe Aware, the volunteer organization I'm working with, but immediately after paying I noticed a man with a sign reading "Welcome Eric Samuel." While the use of my middle name was odd, I doubted that there was anyone else with that combination on my flight, so after some confusing back-and-forth, I got in the car with the driver.

He took me to our small but spacious guest house, the Reatry Angkor Villa. There I met Sophanit, our guide for the week, and Lulu, my fellow volunteer. We went over the week's agenda, which included tours of the Angkor temples, building wheelchairs, and teaching English. I felt fairly competent doing those things.

We then took a quick tour of the city of Siem Reap ("Victory over the Thai") and settled down for some Khmer (Cambodian) cooking for lunch at a tourist-filled restaurant. Khmer food closely resembles Thai, but often with less spice. As a fan of all Asian cuisines, I was happy.

After lunch, we got back in the car with my friend the driver, whose name turned out to be Ahn, and headed to go see mighty Angkor Wat. (TO BE CONTINUED; I NEED A SHOWER. BADLY.)