Transport: Modes of Necessity

Necessity can sometimes make decisions for you. If you are at the airport in Phnom Penh, you pretty much have to take a "moto" to get into town, which is Cambodian for "overabundant death scooter". Basically, there are a lot of moto drivers, so you pick one, and then you get on the back of his scooter as if you were friends. You hope it's not too bumpy a ride, as you just had a nice meal on the plane and want digestion to be pleasant.

There are similarities between traveling by moto and kayak, despite the difference in surroundings. The streets, in a way, are like rivers. Only instead of fish, there are motos. Instead of tree branches passing overhead, there are sideview mirrors. Instead of rapids, there are oncoming semis. Instead of the lazy relaxation of floating effortlessly down a quiet river, there's a gut-bending mix of fear and self-preservation instinct the likes of which you have never known. And instead of the harmonious order of nature, there's a complete breakdown of all rules of the traffic cosmos. Things like turn signals are replaced by the more direct and effective crossing-into-oncoming-traffic.

I've discovered that necessity is the mother of indigestion.