20th September 2007
Blood lines
So I have now been here for six months. It seems like the time has flown by, but at the same time it feels like it has been so long since I left home. Things are going well though. I feel like I have really settled into things now – both at work and at home.
I do miss home though. I miss the familiarity and the ease of it all. I especially miss my friends and family and the ease of conversation that you can have with them. It is strange though. It comes in waves, often when I least expect it...
I am well known around Kampong Thom now. Out of a population of over 50,000 there are about 8 foreigners, and given my height and pale complexion I tend to stand out. At the local restaurants the staff often come up and talk to me, occasionally I get caught up in an importune English lesson or they teach me some Khmer words. Some of the younger guys like to hug me from behind and rub my belly (I think they thick it is good luck). It is kind off putting when you are trying to eat, but that is how they are here. It is a sign of affection and acceptance, so it is kind of nice. I still find it funny that guys can be so openly touchy and feely toward each other, but if they touched a girl there would be uproar.
A few weeks ago Shin’s NGO organised a HIV/AIDS workshop for local NGO workers dealing with HIV/AIDS. The workshop was run by a Nigerian girl who was an expert in HIV/AIDS. I decided to go along and learn a bit more about HIV/AIDS and to see what the Khmer people thought about it. There were definitely some naive and funny questions. But my favourite was “If a man puts on a condom and they sneezed wouldn’t it fly off?” Of course, we weren’t suppose to laugh about this, but it was hard not to. I learnt a bit myself though, I didn’t know much about the anti-viral treatments used to treat people living with HIV/AIDS and how they worked. It also put into my head what a really terrible disease it can be and how much people must suffer both physically and mentally after acquiring it. It is a death sentence - a slow and painful one. It is really quite scary.
As part of the workshop we went out to visit the local VCCT Clinic at the local hospital. The VCCT clinic offers free blood tests and counselling for people who want to get tested for HIV. The doctor there told us that about 6% of the people that come through the clinic are infected with HIV. That is a massive figure for any disease, but for a disease that is practically a death sentence, it is horrifying.
Throughout the course it became apparent that many of the participants were a bit shy about talking about some of the subjects, especially sex and were unsure of how the whole blood tests worked. So, after checking with the course convener that it was safe to do so, I volunteered to go through the blood test and counselling in front of the group.
Now there is a new experience. Sitting in a room with a doctor, translator and a group of Khmer NGO workers talking about my sex life – I could tell when the personal questions were coming because the room would giggle before I got the translation and then giggle again after I answered. The good news is that I don’t have HIV. Even though I was pretty sure I didn’t, it was still a nerve racking 15 minute wait (I can’t imagine how it would have been like to wait for weeks like in the bad old days) with the images I had been looking at over the past few days whirling though my mind. Made worse by the fact that everyone kept coming up to me and asking ‘aren’t you scared?’ - well, I wasn’t. But now you guys are making me nervous. When I went back in for the results my translator, Song, jumped in the air, cheered and high-fived me. I assumed all was good at that point – but checked the test results anyway.
After I demonstrated to the group how easy it was a few other of the participants also decided to get blood tests while we were there. And I suspect a few went back after. I think it was a great relief, especially for the women, to know they were negative (they just don’t know whether there husbands are playing safe of not and it is not cool for them to ask). So, I am happy that I choose to lead by example.
That night Shin (who also took the test after me) and I decided to celebrate the Khmer way by getting drunk and picking up some hookers at the local Karaoke Bar – I am joking. About the drinking. OK - And the hookers.
Aside from the training I have been quite busy at work. I am progressing on my ‘sustainable communities’ project – putting together concept notes, training plans and proposals. I have started to organise the start of a strategic planning for my NGO – we are going to go on a staff retreat in October to put it together. I have been doing background research on databases and monitoring the information flows throughout the organisation so I can build an effective database. It is good – I feel like things are progressing well and that I am going to achieve a few things before I wrap up. If I had left now I would not have been close to getting any of these near completion.
Aside from my work, I have also been to a few more community meetings after hours and I managed to organise a few days away to show Lainie’s NGO a little about databases and Access. In return, Lainie gave me some information on Quickbooks (a financial management program). I plan on integrating Quickbooks into a management database for my NGO, so all the information about the NGO is just at their finger tips. I hope. I am really learning on the run myself.
Aside from work and my visit to Poipet, not a lot has been happening. I have just been hanging around Kampong Thom a lot. It gets tedious travelling so much and sometimes it is nice just to kick around the house and hang out with my friends Kampong Thom. Although, I am usually bored out of my mind by the time Sunday night comes around. There are only so many times I can get drunk and sing Karaoke. Aside from travelling, drinking, reading or watch crap TV there ain’t a whole lot to do in rural Cambodia.
One thing that I did do the other day was drink snakes blood. We were at one of the guys houses drinking when they pulled it out. O had mentioned previously that I was keen to try the snake blood drink. Don’t get any romantic visions of them draining a snake into my drink. It was in a dirty old Johnny walker bottle. Apparently blood layers if you leave it for long enough – the congealed bits settle to the bottom. So you have to give it a good shake before you pour it. Just like a popper! I won’t lie – it looked and smelt foul. They poured the blood into my glass then topped it up with some whisky. I could feel the bile rising in the back of my throat as I looked at the glass, so I snatched it up and downed it in one go before my body stopped me. And the taste – well, surprisingly, it didn’t taste that bad. The whisky flavour dominated so I didn’t actually taste the blood. Apparently drinking snakes blood makes you more virile. So, look out ladies…
I also heard the other day that men here drink fermented baby deer antlers as a kind of natural viagra. I am not joking – it sells for about $100 for a little bottle and Khmer friends (educated men) swear it works. But they did warn me, if you take it and you are too young (i.e. not yet a man) then you will start bleeding from your eyes and ears. I might give that one a miss then…
On a completely different topic - I was reading a book the other day that mentioned that Pol Pot grew up in Kampong Thom. I was a bit spun out by this and started to make a few subtle enquiries, thinking that I might be able to go and check out his house. It turns out his childhood house is on the same street that I work on! It is a long street, but I must have gone past it a few times. Apparently his brother and sister still live there. I am still quite keen to check it out, but word on the street is – is that his brother is still quite pissed off about his brother being Pol Pot and is not exactly welcoming to the attention.
The brother only found out that Pol Pot was his brother after the Khmer Rouge’s brutal reign. He didn’t know Pol Pot was his brother because Pol Pot is not his real name – he changed from Salot Sor to Pol Pot after he returned to Cambodia from studying in Paris and hooked up with the Khmer Rouge. When the Khmer Rouge took over the country they destroyed television and news papers, so the family of Salot Sor had no idea that Pol Pot was there brother. The family of Salot Sor were treated the same as everyone else during the Khmer Rouge – they too were forced from their homes and into labour camps. Many of Salot Sor’s family died during the Khmer Rouge period, no doubt hoping that there brother was still in Paris and avoiding all the horror. So when the pictures of Pol Pot and his the story of his past came to light, after the regime had fallen, the remanets of Salot Sor’s family finally found out that their brother was the leader of a regime that brutally killed many of their family and friends. I can understand why he might be pissed off about that…it ain’t like your sister taking your CD without asking.
I hope my family and friends are well. Happy Birthday Helen!
Take care
e.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Cambodia - Part 17
1st September 2007
Minefields or Mindfields?
So the past few weeks have been really busy – both with work and social life. I have had hardly any time to myself.
A few weeks ago Lainie and I went to visit some friends in Battambang for the weekend. It is a long way there, for me, because you have to go all the way around the lake. It is at least 7 hours. Last time I was there, I hardly saw anything, so this time we decided to go and see some stuff. We went out to a dam and irrigation system that was built by the Khmer Rouge. The system still works today and is the main reason that the Battambang Province is famous, well famous in Cambodia, for all its quality produce – particularly their oranges and rice (outside of Cambodia Battambang Province is more famous for being the Province where Angelina Jolie’s adopted child is from and their ‘millennium village’ project). Around Battambang, they harvest rice yields twice a year, rather than just once. However, the cost for building the dam was thousands of lives. One of the moto drivers, who took us on the long bumpy trek out to the dam, actually helped to construct it and told us that many people were buried in the foundations. Now, ironically, the dam is a bit of a tourist attraction, particularly for Cambodians. You can sit in a thatched shanty and eat fish caught fresh from the water. After we munched down some fish we hired some big black inner tubes went for a swim with some local kids. It was quite fun and the water was so cool and clean.
That night a few of us head out to ‘sky’ the local night club. There were only a few westerners there, so we attracted a bit of attention. A few guys tried their English out on me, even when I was at the urinal. At one point I had three guys, one massaging my back, talking to me while I was trying to go. It was the kind of place you can only buy drinks by the bottle (i.e. a bottle of vodka, scotch), so inevitably we were in for a big one. I don’t remember finishing the bottle of vodka, but I must have. It was a funny place. The air conditioning was pumping just as loud as the music and coloured lights flashed away. Down on the dance floor I impressed the locals with my repertoire of disco dance struts and found myself with a little friend holding onto the front of my shirt, copying my moves, for a good hour or so.
The next day I had to get up at 6am to catch the boat to Siem Reap. Thankfully, Lainie had set the alarm for me and I stumbled out of bed, probably still drunk, in time to catch the boat. The boat ride between Battambang and Siem Reap is a long but pretty one as it winds down the river through farm lands, mangroves, bird sanctuaries, small villages and across the Tonle Sap (the biggest lake in South East Asia). Unfortunately, I was in no state to enjoy it much. I was too busy nursing my hang over and trying not being sick over the side. The ‘fast boat’ took over 7 hours to make the journey (at worst it could be 11 hours) – the journey around the lake on a bumpy dirt road to Siem Reap takes about 4 hours. So, if you ask me there was nothing fast about the ‘fast boat’. For the first hour of the ride I kept wondering when we get to the ‘fast boat’, thinking that the boat we were on was only a taxi. The boat was packed with tourists and I must have looked a sight as I stumbled on last and collapsed into the seat at the front next to the driver. All I wanted to do was curl up on top of everyone’s bags and go back to sleep, but everyone was facing towards me and would have seen me - so that option was out. One old German tourist kept checking his GPS system the whole way. Nerd. After I got to Siem Reap it was still another 2 and a half hours to Kampong Thom. I was happy to get home by that stage – over 12 hours door to door with a throbbing hang over. I am not doing that again.
While we were in Battambang we also got a hair cut from Ana, one of our friends, who is an ex-hair dresser. I am now sporting a delightful little mullet. However, while she was cutting our hair she discovered some nit eggs in both Lainie and my hair. We have no idea where they came from. Most likely some of the children we have been in contact with. I didn’t have time to go to the chemist in Battambang and it turned out getting nit hair wash is no easy task in Kampong Thom. I had to ask around at the Chemists and then, when that failed, had to ask the guys from work. Naturally, they all thought it was hilarious. Turns out you can’t get nit hair wash in Kampong Thom. So then I had to ask my friend Tim, who was coming up to Kampong Thom for meeting, to bring some from Phnom Penh. Tim tells me when he asked for the hair wash at the chemist the girl at the counter slowly backed away and indicated he should go the other end of the store. ‘It’s not for me, it’s for my friend’ he pleaded, but still she stood back, with a look of disgust on her face, and pointed…
So the following weekend a group of our friends came up to visit from Phnom Penh. Shin and I had been thinking about hiring a boat and doing a day trip on the Stung Sen, the river which passes through Kampong Thom. The river starts off in the north of Cambodia, near Prah Vihear near the Thai border and winds its way down to the Tonle Sap. For some weeks the river has been high and fast moving, threatening to burst its banks near our house. In the north of the Province, in the areas around Sandan, they have seen the worst flooding in 20 years; some 30,000 people have been cut off from food and fresh water. Many of the new bridges and roads, built during the dry season, were swept away by the force of the water. At home, the Prime Minister would have flown out and declared it a natural disaster. There would have been a big relief effort; the army would have probably gone in to get people out. But this is Cambodia, the government did nothing. There was no relief effort. There is no insurance or medical assistance. There weren’t even any reports in the newspaper. People just dealt with it. It is not like they weren’t expecting the rain and flooding. It happens every year. Although, not always so bad. That’s why they build there houses on stilts. People will probably die from starvation and disease. But no one is really keeping figures. I only know about it because my colleagues and friends who work in the area and couldn’t get out to see their clients.
So anyhow, we decided to do a boat trip. After some fierce bargaining, which we lost, we hired a covered putt-putt boat from one of the locals. A couple of our friends from, work joined us too – including one of my colleagues, Arun, who is 24 but had never been on a boat or to Tonle Sap (mostly because she can’t swim and is scared of the water - we reassured, telling her that nearly all our friends are good swimmers, because we all learn to swim young). We packed on the BBQ, a couple of eskies brimming with beers, sun cream and a pack of cards and set off. It was beautiful sunny day and was really nice on the river. The boat was big enough for us to sprawl out on plastic mats. So we all just kicked back in took in the scenery – waving to all the little kids that waved to us from the shore.
Outside of town the river had burst its banks and we went had to negotiate the channels of a rice paddy before pushing on along the river to Tonle Sap. The further we got from town, the more and more run down the houses got. After a while all that lined the shores were small clusters of shabby little shanties where only the very poor live and survive solely from their fish catches in the river. The rights to fishing in the river were sold to companies by the government, so even this simply activity is fraught with danger, as the people ‘illegally’ catch enough fish to live on.
After about four hours we reached the floating village which sits at the mouth of the Stung Sen. There we got out and had lunch at the boat owner’s house/shop. Part of lunch was prohop, a fermented mushy brown fish dish which could quite possibly be the most disgusting thing I have ever eaten (it easily tasted worse than the ball-like membrane things I ate out of a snake the other day). After lunch we went for a swim in the muddy dull brown waters of the lake (and probably caught several yet to be identified parasites). But it was still nice to go swimming - the water was fresh and tasted like soil.
The trip back to Kampong Thom was a slow one as the boat pushed on against the fast moving current. The water eddying away at the side of the river gave an indication of just how fast the water was moving. But it wasn’t till we stopped and jumped in that we got the full impact. We would jump in at the front, swim as a hard as we could to stay in the one spot and then let ourselves be taken to the rear of the boat. Then repeat. It was quite fun. It took a good 7 hours to get back to Kampong Thom, but we were rewarded with a most spectacular sunset over the winding rivers. The last few hours of the boat ride passed with us singing songs by a little exposed electric light as we boat cut through the dark water.
The day after the boat trip our friends all headed back to Phnom Penh and I headed to Siem Reap to meet my friend Louise who was flying in from Australia. Lousie had been to Cambodia before but was interested to see ‘the other side’ of the country. She stayed with us for a few days and ventured out with both my NGO and Shin’s NGO for a couple of field visits to see some orphans, people living with HIV and peer training programs. She seemed quite happy to take it all in, but I think the highlight of her visit was riding on a moto, on a little boat, to cross water channels where the road had once been…
The following weekend I went with Louise back to Siem Reap to see her off and meet Lainie, who was on her way to visit me in Kampong Thom. Before we left Siem Reap Lainie and I went to meet a monk who Lainie had befriended and who is keen to build a new school in his home town of Kratie. Lainie has been helping him put together a funding proposal and in a few weeks we hope to go and check out the site.
On the Sunday I took Lainie out on my moto to visit the 9th century temples near Kampong Thom called Prasart Sambor Prey Kuk. The road there alone is worth the ride as it winds through the local villages and rice fields. The temples are considerably older than Angkor Watt and made from mud brick. Set among the forest, many of them have slowly been eroded by the weather over the years. We spent most of the day wondering around with an entourage of ten children who were keen to practice their English and sell some hand made scarfs.
On the way out we decided to check out a group of temples which were a few kilometres apart from the main group of temples at Prey Kuk. The road out to these temples was a little-used sandy track, perhaps a metre wide, which wound through the thick jungle. At times it hard work not letting the bike slip away in the sand and then we hit the mine field…
Now, it is quite possible I have gone through a few mine fields since I have been here and been completely oblivious. However, this one was clearly marked. There were little red signs all along the track and red tape from the edges of the road going back into the foliage. Needless to say, I stopped at this point, partly because the road forked, but mostly because of the mine signs. We could see a local working in a field a behind us, so I went back and asked her which way we should go to the temples (my Khmer is improving). She told us to go straight ahead. We hesitate and then decided to follow the tracks of another moto which had clearly been past recently. Nervously and slowly we went over the now rough track and rounded a bend just in time to see the owner of the moto flying back the other way. He turned out to be local teacher who wanted to practice his English and was putting together a class on the temples. He asked if he could take us around. Fearing more land mines, we gladly accepted the invitation and followed him through a few creaks and along the eroded dirt path up to the temples.
The temples, although small, were spectacular. The thick canopy gave them this magical green light. The trees and moss had overgrown many of the dark stones of the ruins. And it was quiet – so quiet it was eerie. All we could hear were the sounds of the jungle, our feet crunching on the thick undergrowth and squeals of pain when we were bitten by some massive blood thirsty ants. Tourists hardly ever came here, these temples sat as they had for centuries. I could imagine how the first Europeans who unearthed Angkor Watt must have felt…it was magical.
Aside from visitors, I have been really quite busy at work too - preparing funding proposals and working on a new management database for my NGO. I felt like I was burning the candle at both ends and I was glad this week to get some time to myself and completely chill out. This weekend I plan on doing nothing.
So that it all for now.
I hope everyone is well.
By-e.
So the past few weeks have been really busy – both with work and social life. I have had hardly any time to myself.
A few weeks ago Lainie and I went to visit some friends in Battambang for the weekend. It is a long way there, for me, because you have to go all the way around the lake. It is at least 7 hours. Last time I was there, I hardly saw anything, so this time we decided to go and see some stuff. We went out to a dam and irrigation system that was built by the Khmer Rouge. The system still works today and is the main reason that the Battambang Province is famous, well famous in Cambodia, for all its quality produce – particularly their oranges and rice (outside of Cambodia Battambang Province is more famous for being the Province where Angelina Jolie’s adopted child is from and their ‘millennium village’ project). Around Battambang, they harvest rice yields twice a year, rather than just once. However, the cost for building the dam was thousands of lives. One of the moto drivers, who took us on the long bumpy trek out to the dam, actually helped to construct it and told us that many people were buried in the foundations. Now, ironically, the dam is a bit of a tourist attraction, particularly for Cambodians. You can sit in a thatched shanty and eat fish caught fresh from the water. After we munched down some fish we hired some big black inner tubes went for a swim with some local kids. It was quite fun and the water was so cool and clean.
That night a few of us head out to ‘sky’ the local night club. There were only a few westerners there, so we attracted a bit of attention. A few guys tried their English out on me, even when I was at the urinal. At one point I had three guys, one massaging my back, talking to me while I was trying to go. It was the kind of place you can only buy drinks by the bottle (i.e. a bottle of vodka, scotch), so inevitably we were in for a big one. I don’t remember finishing the bottle of vodka, but I must have. It was a funny place. The air conditioning was pumping just as loud as the music and coloured lights flashed away. Down on the dance floor I impressed the locals with my repertoire of disco dance struts and found myself with a little friend holding onto the front of my shirt, copying my moves, for a good hour or so.
The next day I had to get up at 6am to catch the boat to Siem Reap. Thankfully, Lainie had set the alarm for me and I stumbled out of bed, probably still drunk, in time to catch the boat. The boat ride between Battambang and Siem Reap is a long but pretty one as it winds down the river through farm lands, mangroves, bird sanctuaries, small villages and across the Tonle Sap (the biggest lake in South East Asia). Unfortunately, I was in no state to enjoy it much. I was too busy nursing my hang over and trying not being sick over the side. The ‘fast boat’ took over 7 hours to make the journey (at worst it could be 11 hours) – the journey around the lake on a bumpy dirt road to Siem Reap takes about 4 hours. So, if you ask me there was nothing fast about the ‘fast boat’. For the first hour of the ride I kept wondering when we get to the ‘fast boat’, thinking that the boat we were on was only a taxi. The boat was packed with tourists and I must have looked a sight as I stumbled on last and collapsed into the seat at the front next to the driver. All I wanted to do was curl up on top of everyone’s bags and go back to sleep, but everyone was facing towards me and would have seen me - so that option was out. One old German tourist kept checking his GPS system the whole way. Nerd. After I got to Siem Reap it was still another 2 and a half hours to Kampong Thom. I was happy to get home by that stage – over 12 hours door to door with a throbbing hang over. I am not doing that again.
While we were in Battambang we also got a hair cut from Ana, one of our friends, who is an ex-hair dresser. I am now sporting a delightful little mullet. However, while she was cutting our hair she discovered some nit eggs in both Lainie and my hair. We have no idea where they came from. Most likely some of the children we have been in contact with. I didn’t have time to go to the chemist in Battambang and it turned out getting nit hair wash is no easy task in Kampong Thom. I had to ask around at the Chemists and then, when that failed, had to ask the guys from work. Naturally, they all thought it was hilarious. Turns out you can’t get nit hair wash in Kampong Thom. So then I had to ask my friend Tim, who was coming up to Kampong Thom for meeting, to bring some from Phnom Penh. Tim tells me when he asked for the hair wash at the chemist the girl at the counter slowly backed away and indicated he should go the other end of the store. ‘It’s not for me, it’s for my friend’ he pleaded, but still she stood back, with a look of disgust on her face, and pointed…
So the following weekend a group of our friends came up to visit from Phnom Penh. Shin and I had been thinking about hiring a boat and doing a day trip on the Stung Sen, the river which passes through Kampong Thom. The river starts off in the north of Cambodia, near Prah Vihear near the Thai border and winds its way down to the Tonle Sap. For some weeks the river has been high and fast moving, threatening to burst its banks near our house. In the north of the Province, in the areas around Sandan, they have seen the worst flooding in 20 years; some 30,000 people have been cut off from food and fresh water. Many of the new bridges and roads, built during the dry season, were swept away by the force of the water. At home, the Prime Minister would have flown out and declared it a natural disaster. There would have been a big relief effort; the army would have probably gone in to get people out. But this is Cambodia, the government did nothing. There was no relief effort. There is no insurance or medical assistance. There weren’t even any reports in the newspaper. People just dealt with it. It is not like they weren’t expecting the rain and flooding. It happens every year. Although, not always so bad. That’s why they build there houses on stilts. People will probably die from starvation and disease. But no one is really keeping figures. I only know about it because my colleagues and friends who work in the area and couldn’t get out to see their clients.
So anyhow, we decided to do a boat trip. After some fierce bargaining, which we lost, we hired a covered putt-putt boat from one of the locals. A couple of our friends from, work joined us too – including one of my colleagues, Arun, who is 24 but had never been on a boat or to Tonle Sap (mostly because she can’t swim and is scared of the water - we reassured, telling her that nearly all our friends are good swimmers, because we all learn to swim young). We packed on the BBQ, a couple of eskies brimming with beers, sun cream and a pack of cards and set off. It was beautiful sunny day and was really nice on the river. The boat was big enough for us to sprawl out on plastic mats. So we all just kicked back in took in the scenery – waving to all the little kids that waved to us from the shore.
Outside of town the river had burst its banks and we went had to negotiate the channels of a rice paddy before pushing on along the river to Tonle Sap. The further we got from town, the more and more run down the houses got. After a while all that lined the shores were small clusters of shabby little shanties where only the very poor live and survive solely from their fish catches in the river. The rights to fishing in the river were sold to companies by the government, so even this simply activity is fraught with danger, as the people ‘illegally’ catch enough fish to live on.
After about four hours we reached the floating village which sits at the mouth of the Stung Sen. There we got out and had lunch at the boat owner’s house/shop. Part of lunch was prohop, a fermented mushy brown fish dish which could quite possibly be the most disgusting thing I have ever eaten (it easily tasted worse than the ball-like membrane things I ate out of a snake the other day). After lunch we went for a swim in the muddy dull brown waters of the lake (and probably caught several yet to be identified parasites). But it was still nice to go swimming - the water was fresh and tasted like soil.The trip back to Kampong Thom was a slow one as the boat pushed on against the fast moving current. The water eddying away at the side of the river gave an indication of just how fast the water was moving. But it wasn’t till we stopped and jumped in that we got the full impact. We would jump in at the front, swim as a hard as we could to stay in the one spot and then let ourselves be taken to the rear of the boat. Then repeat. It was quite fun. It took a good 7 hours to get back to Kampong Thom, but we were rewarded with a most spectacular sunset over the winding rivers. The last few hours of the boat ride passed with us singing songs by a little exposed electric light as we boat cut through the dark water.
The day after the boat trip our friends all headed back to Phnom Penh and I headed to Siem Reap to meet my friend Louise who was flying in from Australia. Lousie had been to Cambodia before but was interested to see ‘the other side’ of the country. She stayed with us for a few days and ventured out with both my NGO and Shin’s NGO for a couple of field visits to see some orphans, people living with HIV and peer training programs. She seemed quite happy to take it all in, but I think the highlight of her visit was riding on a moto, on a little boat, to cross water channels where the road had once been…
The following weekend I went with Louise back to Siem Reap to see her off and meet Lainie, who was on her way to visit me in Kampong Thom. Before we left Siem Reap Lainie and I went to meet a monk who Lainie had befriended and who is keen to build a new school in his home town of Kratie. Lainie has been helping him put together a funding proposal and in a few weeks we hope to go and check out the site.
On the Sunday I took Lainie out on my moto to visit the 9th century temples near Kampong Thom called Prasart Sambor Prey Kuk. The road there alone is worth the ride as it winds through the local villages and rice fields. The temples are considerably older than Angkor Watt and made from mud brick. Set among the forest, many of them have slowly been eroded by the weather over the years. We spent most of the day wondering around with an entourage of ten children who were keen to practice their English and sell some hand made scarfs.
On the way out we decided to check out a group of temples which were a few kilometres apart from the main group of temples at Prey Kuk. The road out to these temples was a little-used sandy track, perhaps a metre wide, which wound through the thick jungle. At times it hard work not letting the bike slip away in the sand and then we hit the mine field…
Now, it is quite possible I have gone through a few mine fields since I have been here and been completely oblivious. However, this one was clearly marked. There were little red signs all along the track and red tape from the edges of the road going back into the foliage. Needless to say, I stopped at this point, partly because the road forked, but mostly because of the mine signs. We could see a local working in a field a behind us, so I went back and asked her which way we should go to the temples (my Khmer is improving). She told us to go straight ahead. We hesitate and then decided to follow the tracks of another moto which had clearly been past recently. Nervously and slowly we went over the now rough track and rounded a bend just in time to see the owner of the moto flying back the other way. He turned out to be local teacher who wanted to practice his English and was putting together a class on the temples. He asked if he could take us around. Fearing more land mines, we gladly accepted the invitation and followed him through a few creaks and along the eroded dirt path up to the temples.
The temples, although small, were spectacular. The thick canopy gave them this magical green light. The trees and moss had overgrown many of the dark stones of the ruins. And it was quiet – so quiet it was eerie. All we could hear were the sounds of the jungle, our feet crunching on the thick undergrowth and squeals of pain when we were bitten by some massive blood thirsty ants. Tourists hardly ever came here, these temples sat as they had for centuries. I could imagine how the first Europeans who unearthed Angkor Watt must have felt…it was magical.
Aside from visitors, I have been really quite busy at work too - preparing funding proposals and working on a new management database for my NGO. I felt like I was burning the candle at both ends and I was glad this week to get some time to myself and completely chill out. This weekend I plan on doing nothing.
So that it all for now.
I hope everyone is well.
By-e.
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