There's an elderly Cambodian man with a small store just down the red dirt road, only a short walk from the front gates of the Lotus Lodge hotel. His roadside stand is typical of the thousands of other similar, small, and independent shops scattered around the country. Constructed from little more than clapboard and tin, the shop has been hammered together at uneven angles with little regard for measurement or framing. I have come to appreciate a certain Cambodian carpentry charm in what may appear as defective to other eyes. Aesthetic consideration, at this little Mom and Pop wooden shack store is like many structures around the country--it is much less important than functionality.
People come and go all day long. They buy any number of products ranging from soft drinks, snack food, fresh coconuts, hygiene products and even black-market gasoline used to fill up their motorbikes. Some locals walk from nearby villages, others pull up on their 125cc Honda bikes. Seldom does a car ever stop. Most of the time, one can see any number of family members hanging out there and children are often playing.
On many occasions, there are elder Cambodian men sitting on plastic chairs, usually shirtless, glass in hand, drinking a concoction of homemade rice whiskey. From their unclothed bodies, a number scars are visible. I often think about the scars and the stories behind the healed-over wounds. These men would have lived through the brutal Khmer Rouge regime. My mind wanders. Maybe they survived years of forced labour and unimaginable beatings. Maybe they were instigating these beatings, working for the horrendous Pol Pot regime.
Either way, it doesn't really matter anymore. Time has passed, slowly, through the rhythmic slumbering days of this hot country. People have moved on. The large population of young people are baby-boomers born after the war, and the older population are content with peace. They remember, but life moves on in Cambodia.
As I pull up one of the plastic chairs, order a can of Coke and join the old men, I see them smiling and laughing, revealing the few remaining teeth they have. As the mid-day sun beats down, they sip their rice whiskey and smoke their cigarettes. Customers come and go.
The old man's shack has become my refuge......a place to go and get away from it all, if only for a brief and temporary respite from my responsibilities at the hotel. The fact that I plainly don't speak Khmer (Cambodian language), and they don't speak a word of English, doesn't stop them from striking up conversations with me. They talk to me enthusiastically, gesturing with their hands, grinning and laughing. I respond with words that are equally alien to them. We continue this exchange, until I finish my Coke, pay the elderly shop owner, say my goodbyes, and make my way back to the Lotus Lodge.
I was the first one from the team to arrive at the Lotus Lodge in Siem Reap, Cambodia. The three of us involved in Hotel Cambodia, Mitch, Javier and myself, were supposed to come all together, but things came up back home that kept the others temporarily grounded. Mitch's left eye for some unforeseen reason started going blurry so he had to receive last minute eye surgery. We figured it was better to have eye surgery in Canada than in a Cambodia. As for Javier, I'm still unclear about his excuse. He said he couldn't get the time off from his job in the Air Force, but I'm more convinced it was because Christmas was just around the corner and he didn't want to be in trouble with his girlfriend. And then there was one..................... It was up to me to make the solo trek to Cambodia and oversee the takeover of the Lotus Lodge. I left the comforts of home, not sure what to expect or where this next journey would take me. While making last minute preparations before my departure, we were tossing around grandiose ideas of what we could do to the hotel once we arrived. During one of these high-energy brainstorming sessions, one of us blurted out that we should have a games room with a Nintendo Wii. At the time, we thought this was a brilliant idea. Maybe it was the whiskey talking. Either way, Javier was off on a new mission--to scour the city for a decent second-hand Wii. It didn't take long before he found one. Wii was never really my thing. I had no idea how many attachments come with the console until we went to pick the thing up from a guy selling one on the Internet. He sold us his used Wii and all the extras that went with it. There were games, and steering wheels, a couple of guitars, and even a drum set. When we returned home and the Wii, with all the gadgets, lay in a heap on the floor, I started to have second thoughts. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. It definitely had been the whiskey talking.
Skot at Poipet, border of Thailand and Cambodia
I was standing in the blistering heat in Poipet after taking a bus from Bangkok. It's the border town between Cambodia and Thailand. I was waiting to cross, cursing the weight of the damned Wii in my luggage bag. I was cursing Javier for buying the thing and cursing the genius who had the bright idea to have a Wii at the hotel (which I think was me). Most of all, I was cursing the luggage bag the Wii was stuffed in. This particular suitcase had been tossed around and manhandled through my stop-overs in New York and Hong Kong, and when I finally arrived in Bangkok, the bag was in dire condition. The wheels were breaking off, the handle had pulled through the frame and was hanging on by a thread, and the other extension handle had completely broken off.
I was on the verge of abandoning the bag and all its contents, but the thought of coming across the world with this thing, and giving up now, was downright unacceptable. I had to finish the last leg of the journey. The Wii finally made it to Siem Reap and its new home at the Lotus Lodge. I remember my sister telling me when I told her about the Wii, not to turn the place into a 'dude pad'. She was right. The Wii didn't belong in the lush surroundings, the authentic Cambodia experience just outside our gates, or anywhere I could think of. The Wii continues to occupy the broken luggage in a storage area of the hotel, at least until we find a good place to donate it... Anyone out there in Siem Reap need a Nintendo Wii?
Hotel management was never really on the radar for the growing list of projects we had in mind -- let alone owning a hotel in Asia. Sure, our list is often built on ambitious, and sometimes borderline absurd ideas, that we call projects. Javier is still convinced that the lost city of El Dorado exists in South America and is dead set that he can find it. Just one of his projects, ambitious or absurd, guess that depends on the audience. Nevertheless, a story for another time.
When you call something a project rather than an idea, it gives it more substance, more meaning, more credibility so everything for us more or less becomes a project. In the beginning, when the idea to purchase a hotel in Cambodia was born, it didn't take long for the idea to evolve into a determined project. This project became Hotel Cambodia.
When we came across the Lotus Lodge, we weren't even in Cambodia at the time, and to be honest, we had never even seen the place with our own eyes before we took over. We were in Canada, our home and native land. Following the online shopping trend, we came across the property on the Internet. Most people buy shoes or clothing online, however we wanted to buy a property that happened to be on the other side of the world.
Mitch and I had visited Cambodia twice before while traveling, but at the time, didn't know about the little hidden gem that is the Lotus Lodge. During our initial visits, taking over a hotel was the furthest thing from our minds. We were involved in another project, that coincidentally led us to the hotel, and in retrospect, in the most fatalistic way.
About eight months before officially taking over the hotel, we returned home from filming a documentary in Cambodia called Lost Rails into the Kingdom. A team of five of us were working on the film for a month while we trekked throughout the country. The gist of the documentary follows the narrative of three friends traveling to far-off Cambodia in search of the legendary Bamboo Express. One of the characters is confined to a wheelchair -- that's Mitch. He's been in a wheelchair his entire life and is about three feet tall with a brittle bone condition. He's traveled around the globe, loves a good chat, a glass of whiskey on ice, and is co-owner/general manager of the Lotus Lodge. And yes ladies, he's single.
The group dynamic of those involved in the film was anything but cohesive, but politics aside, the film was a success. It was beautifully shot by an excellent filmmaker who captured the beauty of Cambodia with his camera . The documentary told a captivating and interesting story. Like many fall-outs, a result of stubbornness, pride and callous indifference, there was a bitter fracture in the group. And like so many conflicts nowadays, the squabbling is often intensified on social media sites. It's amazing how something so benign in the beginning can take on a life of its own when the situation is posted online and becomes public property. Fortunately, saner minds prevailed and the project forged on. The love of the documentary proved to be stronger than the angst among the individuals. Lost Rails into the Kingdom aired on national television in Canada and on cable in the United States.
After returning to Canada when Lost Rails into the Kingdom was completed, we often reflected on the journey we had taken and the people we met along the way. The sincerity, the gentle demeanor and the hospitality of Cambodia sparked an idea, and like any good idea, a new project was born.
Cambodia, like any developing nation, is a country in need. In need of many things. Better schools, higher environmental standards, poverty reduction and health care. The list goes on and on. If someone who genuinely cares about the well-being of the human race visits Cambodia, I guarantee they will become aware of a soft spot within their soul. It's hard to resist the philanthropic urge to do something about the adversity witnessed in many parts of the country.
We knew we wanted to do something in the city of Siem Reap. It was a city we really liked. The initial idea was to start an orphanage, an endeavor that seems to be growing in Cambodia. Such child shelters are definitely in need as the country has a massive child population that is under-cared for. The hurtles, pay-offs, corruption, and obscene land prices in the city didn't equate to anything sustainable.This is when we veered our interest towards business opportunities, something that is a little more sustainable, with the idea that down the road, a business could support more philanthropic pursuits.
After clicking our way through numerous businesses that were for sale, we came across the Lotus Lodge listing. Javier was hooked, and thus began his campaign to sell the idea of going into the hotel business to Mitch and me. We loved the idea. Seeing the hotel's online photos and thinking about owning a business made it an easy sell. Even though we more or less went along with it, we often doubted Javier's ability to make it happen. It became a challenge for him to pull it off and any doubt fueled his resolve to actually do it.
The funny part is, Javier's the only one of us that hasn't actually been to Cambodia. His enthusiasm, drive, and his almost obsessive compulsive behaviour, wouldn't let the hotel go. After nearly driving his family over the edge obsessing over the Lotus Lodge, he miraculously made it happen.
We had been discussing whether or not to buy the hotel for weeks, when one night out at the local pub back home, and after a few whiskeys, Javier's patients wore thin with all the talk. He sent a wire transfer from his cellphone for the deposit on the hotel. At this point there was no turning back -- the project had taken a giant leap forward, and Hotel Cambodia would soon become our reality.
When the sun sets in Cambodia, there's a distinctly hazy orange glow that lingers in the air. Everything in the sun's path has an orange aura about it. At day's end, the final beams of sunshine filter through dust particles kicked up from red dirt roads that criss-cross throughout the country. This is a truly unique Cambodian sight. It's dry season, and hasn't rained properly in months. Dust is omnipresent. It's as common as snow in Canada, wind in Holland, or rain in England and part of the natural life-cycle of the country. Two seasons exist in Cambodia - dry season and wet season, both are hot. This year is exceptionally hot, even by Cambodian standards.
Sitting in the office of the Lotus Lodge Hotel in Siem Reap, I came to the conclusion that dusk is my favorite time of day. The beautiful orangeness that blankets the hotel's surroundings as the day wanes brings a sense of peace and tranquility. The same qualities that are often reflected in the Cambodian people themselves.
The office window looks out to the front of the hotel property where one of the authentic red dirt roads passes our gates. Unlike many of the hotels in Siem Reap that are located in the center of the tourist district or directly off a busy road, the Lotus Lodge is situated away from the main thoroughfares in a more local environment. It may seem a world apart from the souvenir shops selling replica relics of a bygone Angkor Wat era, but it's only a short 10 minute ride to the city center where foreigners from around the world converge.
Almost any time of day, looking out the office window, I can see a variety of interesting sights pass the front gates. As locals live their daily lives in the unassuming presence of a hotel that primarily caters to foreign visitors, I can see people of all ages passing in both directions. I see children dressed in school uniforms laughing and playing on their way to class. I see cattle being herded to the next patch of grassy fields, occasionally they venture through the gates into the parking lot before being ushered out. I see people riding bicycles, tuk tuk drivers passing and motorbikes puttering along. There's also cars, trucks, and minivans, all of which are passing by, kicking up red dust in their wake, and without even knowing it, helping create the orange sunsets that I love so much.
The following posts are the story of Hotel Cambodia. They are real life situations, scenarios, thoughts and anecdotes that take place in and around the Lotus Lodge Hotel. The hotel is located in Siem Reap, an intricate, interesting and sometime puzzling little city on the fringes of the ancient temples of Angkor Wat. I am Skot, co-general manager and owning partner of the hotel along with my longtime friend Mitch and his brother Javier. The intention of this blog is to share our story, the story of how a few Canadian guys with no hotel managerial experience, ended up moving to a developing country on the other side of the world to run and operate a hotel. We also want to share the stories of the intriguing people we come across as well as the trials and tribulations, the ups and downs, the funny and the arcane. We welcome you to Hotel Cambodia.
There's an elderly Cambodian man with a small store just down the red dirt road, only a short walk from the front gates of the Lotus Lodge hotel. His roadside stand is typical of the thousands of other similar, small, and independent shops scattered around the country. Constructed from little more than clapboard and tin, the shop has been hammered together at uneven angles with little regard for measurement or framing. I have come to appreciate a certain Cambodian carpentry charm in what may appear as defective to other eyes. Aesthetic consideration, at this little Mom and Pop wooden shack store is like many structures around the country--it is much less important than functionality.
