Almost sounds like the title of a John Keats poem, doesn’t it? How might it go…?
‘Twas a late day in the summer sky,
The insects buzzing near and I,
Did seek a ride upon a motorbike,
For I did profess to seek,
That sight of which they all did speak,
Houses floating gently on the lake,
Fishermen and their families,
Drifing by on boats of three,
Of which so many photos I would take
My hand I raised to usher forth,
A moto guy heading North,
He spun around to ride me on his bike.
But when he spoke “where you go?”
His voice all strange and falsetto,
I knew something wasn’t quite right.
But I had matters pressing down,
Wanting to see this floating town,
So with gusto I did leap upon his ride,
And through the sights that I would see,
This transvestite would speak to me,
About his desire to see my backside….
Actually, the story didn’t quite go like that. A real girl who lives in an apartment opposite my guesthouse offered to show me Tonle Sap Lake, a huge lake just south of Siem Reap, home to an abundant ecosystem and most famously, a floating village of fishermen and their families. It was a terribly interesting trip, to see how these people live with their floating supermarkets and floating schools and everything else you can imagine adding buoyancy to.
We cruised around, then stopped at a gift shop (also floating) with it’s attached fish and crocodile farms. A fish or crocodile farm is an enclosure of bamboo partially submerged in the water, housing fish or crocodiles.
The benefit of such a farm is the fresh fish you can catch and dine on in the adjacent restaurant. Apparently this is a popular spot at sunset, attracting tourists by the hundreds. There was even a floating disco a little way off for dancing into the night, under a starry sky, surrounded by water. It was really interesting how these people lived their lives here, catching fish, eating fish. It seemed so natural, so down-to-earth.
Then my friend’s cell phone started ringing and the wonder ceased.
“You can get reception out here?” I asked.
“Sure!” she said.
When we were heading out to the lake, we saw the kids studying in their floating school. Unicef funds these schools at $20,000 a year per school. My boat driver pointed out 2 such schools. In actual fact, the inhabitants of these little floating huts are a mix of Muslim Kmer and Catholic Vietnamese. The Vienamese are often in Cambodia illegally, but this fact is overlooked in the interests of a good relationship between the countries. On our way back in the late afternoon, I noticed that the schools were closed and most of the kids were in the river, throwing mud at each other for fun.
The water of the lake was rather muddy and I asked the driver about this. He said that right now, being the dry season, the lake is rather shallow, only about armpit depth. When the rainy season comes through, the lake will expand to almost double it’s size, extending all the way across the dust road we had taken to get there, under all the rickety houses on sticks we had seen along that dusty road, all the way to the mountain way off in the distance. The rice paddies, trees and villages are covered in water and the families live aboard their boats. Don’t underestimate the power of the big wet.
After getting back to my guesthouse and showering all the melted sunscreen off my sweaty skin, I headed out to get some milk as I had a craving for the strawberry variety. So I caught a moto taxi who turned out to be either a ladyboy in training or a guy in desperate need of a strong male role model. Throughout the course of the trip he kept asking me if he could stay in my room. I told him no I think 4 times and then decided to tell him the story about the ladyboy who made the mistake of asking me 5 times. That set him straight. So to all those guys who give in on the fifth time, please stop rewarding their persistence, it’s annoying for the rest of us.
Both those episodes were from a couple of days ago and I was meant to have returned to Phnom Penh already. However, Siem Reap is proving to be a pleasant little town to stay in, so I am reluctant to leave. I discovered a local gym with equipment dating from somewhere around the 1920s, but which only costs 25 cents to visit. Daytime activities include eating, sleeping and billiards. Can’t get much better than that, I’m afraid. But time it marches on and money it tends to get spent, so tomorrow and I’m almost positive this time, I’ll start my journey home. It’s been great, I’ve seen so many fascinating things along the way, other cultures and ways of life. I’ve swam at the beach, I’ve driven a bike in the city and I’ve stood in the ancient ruins of Angkor. I’ve been propositioned along the way and in many ways by girls, guys, old women, trannies, passing stray dogs and countless moto guys. I’ve been amazed, enthralled, scared, stoned and entertained. I’ve been bitten (bed bugs), smitten (adorable fruit kid), harrassed (vendors) and enlightened (Angkor). All that, and I’ve got a bit of a tan!
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