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I had been warned about the difficulties of crossing into Cambodia. Corruption is rampant, particularly at the Aranya Prathet-Poipet border, lying halfway between Bangkok and Siem Reap. Many people there are routed to a fake embassy and charged extra before being taken to the actual border.
Thankfully, coming from Laos, we were at a different crossing. Si Phan Don is very close to the Cambodian border, and the journey didn’t take long.
It hadn’t been an ideal day for me from the very beginning. Apparently my guesthouse booked my ticket to Phnom Penh via a strange bus. It took a level of cajoling with the boatmen to get me from Don Det back to the mainland and as soon as I settled on the bus, I had been herded off and onto another, transferred via overbooked, overstuffed, van that had no place for my right butt cheek to go.
So I wasn’t in the greatest of spirits to begin with.
A second backpacker-filled bus was ahead of us at the border. In front of the Lao departure office were more than two dozen angry backpackers yelling and shaking fists in the faces of the immigration officials.
We’re kept separate from them. Turns out that there’s some kind of issue with payment, and their bus is threatening to turn and go back to Laos if they don’t cooperate.
For hours, we have no idea what is going on — and we pass the time by sitting in the sun in that tiny border town, eating tiny bunches of bananas, drinking the occasional Fanta.
What should fewer than thirty minutes takes us closer to four hours. I breathe an enormous sigh of relief when my passport is returned to me emblazoned with a new Cambodian visa. By then, the group of angry backpackers has made it through to the Cambodian side as well.
And I recognize one of them: a guy I had met in Pakse. Incidentally, he was the only other American I had met in Laos.
“What’s going on?” I ask him.
“They were charging us an extra two dollars more than Lonely Planet says we should have paid.”
You have got to be KIDDING.
“Are you serious?!”
“Of course!”
“It’s two dollars,” I point out exasperatedly.
“It’s corruption!” he roars.
And that’s what pushes me over the edge. I’m absolutely furious.
“Corruption is everywhere in Southeast Asia,” I snap. “You are not going to resolve it by refusing to pay an extra two dollars at the border.”
“It’s the principle!” he continues.
“Funny how all of a sudden corruption here wasn’t a big deal to you until you were personally cheated by a small amount of money.”
“That’s not it.”
“Did you even succeed?”
“No, but that’s not the point.”
“Oh my GOD.”
My friends are waving me onto the bus. The last thing I want is to end up stuck in this Cambodian border town.
“You realize that you delayed not only yourselves but all of us behind you,” I told him. “Thanks a lot. I can’t wait to look for a guesthouse at midnight tonight.”
What infuriated me about this incident was the absolute arrogance of the backpackers holding up everyone at the border. Backpackers look bad enough already: many drinking to excess every night, many refusing to speak the local language, many eating nothing but pancakes and sub-par Western food.
And to be doing all of those things while flashing more money than the local people will see in their lifetimes…and topping it off by refusing to pay a measly extra $2?!
Don’t get me wrong. I know the $2 doesn’t go toward helping the people who really need it. Far from it. But that’s how this part of the world works.
Surely you can f*cking let it go, pay the two dollars, and let us cross the border already.
Clearly quite a polarising issue amd significant enough to attract comments 4 years on – including mine!
I was just browsing this blog and was surprised to find such harsh criticism of the backpacker (although 4 hours is a very long wait and it sounds like they lost their cool, never the way to get ahead in an Asian dispute).
We had a similar experience crossing from Cambodia to Laos in March this year and were taken for and extra 2 USD each at exit from Cambodia and an extra 2 USD so it does start to mount up quickly in particular if there are 30 or more people on the bus.
We challenged the exit charge too. There should be no charge for leaving Cambodia after having paid the visa as the guy simply stamps your visa. Our reward for politely (but persistently) challenging this charge was the 3 guards losing their cool and locking up their hut and thteatening to leave us overnight in the open until the following morning. Yes, we ended up paying and did not make any real progress here. We and our fellow passengers left with a bitter taste in our mouths and after abiut an 45mins delay. But this ‘small time corruption’ is no such thing.
It is coordinated and includes the travel company. For me, one of the most important points here is not the small money we lost individually but these guys are not security guards outside an ATM, they are not just locals trying to scrape through. They are employed representatives of the Cambodian immigration department and tasked with the security of an international border crossing. Paying your way in and out makes a joke of what really should be taken very seriously indeed and any straightforward ‘it’s just 2 USD’ offhand comments really doesn’t take into account the gravity of what is happening here. Particularly leaving a border post unattended because a percieved rich western tourist questions the demandes bribe.
I think it’s not so much about paying the extra US$2 (or equivalent in local currency or Baht or whatever) but more about the attitude displayed by these travelers. For starters, yes, corruption is part of the landscape and it is what it is. Secondly, with a better attitude it might have been possible to either 1) not pay anything extra or 2) bargain it down to $1. Haggling (bargaining) is as much a part of developing Asia as corruption.
Of course some travelers will get themselves into all sorts of hot water, inconveniencing both themselves and others just to make some moot point. While I don’t condone corruption, getting all self-righteous at a border crossing is not going to help even a little bit. Foreign backpackers have absolutely zero ability to influence the powers that be to make the problem go away. A polite letter of complaint to the local tourism authority or relevant government ministry might help (though it probably won’t do much) but it’s certainly a lot better than getting angry at an official at a border crossing.
Locals also face the same problems, sometimes a lot worse than foreigners. My view is that there are a lot more worse things when travelling than being faced with extra charges at a border crossing. Dual pricing at tourist attractions for example, infuriates me. But again, I wouldn’t start screaming at an official who didn’t make up the rules either. Better would be to just avoid such attractions in the first place, saving both money and frustration.
This border crossing is a scam from minute one, from the time you are shoved in a shitty bus (all part of the scam) till the end you are dropped in the shady streets of Phnom Penh. I really need to write about it. I was part of the people complaining and arguing last year, but four hours is crazy. Although you guys could have gone in and checked it out. The fact that he took LP as a reference is stupid, it’s on official websites, and that’s the only reference, which I had. Same, against corruption and will never pay with a smile, I always say I don’t agree even though it doesn’t work all the time. Frankly, I was ashamed of backpackers giving away their passports for the guys to sort it out because they didn’t want to bother. Well they paid 10$ more just for not having to talk to the officers for 5 minutes. For me that’s lazy and misinformed, and giving a too easy way to corruption…