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Published: January 5th 2015
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This morning I'm feeling so much better after a bout with a disagreeable papaya salad. I want a nice filling breakfast. Ratha of the bungalows told me that when they're feeling sick, they eat bawbaw, a thick rice soup, plus some salted fish. I decide to skip the salted fish, and head for the bawbaw at my favorite morning restaurant.
I sit with three of the guides. One of them begs for me to buy him breakfast. He thinks his sweet smile will convince me. It doesn't. They're all headed for the forest that morning, so I think I will have no students for the day.
After bawbaw I'm so happy that I head for my room and change to my cycling clothes. Today deserves an adventure, so I head down a road I've not traveled. My intent is to follow the route on the community map, but I soon realize I'm headed for parts unknown.
It is a great morning for cycling, especially on this deserted gravel road. Good cloud cover, I'll only go a short way. But then I'm in front of an impossible two planked bridge over a deep stream.
Just then a moto
The brave man who carried my bicycle
Of course, he could probably do it with his eyes closed pulls up with a man and I presume his wife and child. He motions to me to say, you first. I motion, saying, you first, then say aloud in Khmer, "I'm afraid." I can just see me tumbling off the bridge. How am I to walk my bike across? There's hardly room for a person to walk, much less guide a bicycle. And I'm surely not going to ride it. One mistake, and....
The wife and child dismount, she chuckles about me saying I'm afraid, and he carefully steers his moto on the narrow planks, while his wife follows on foot. He returns, picks up my bike, and walks across the bridge with it in his arms. Just like that. Easy peasy, at least for him.
I follow slowly on the narrow walkway, then gush thank you on the other side. I try to find out if the road continues around to Chi Phat. After a lot of circular arm waving, it is still quite unclear, but surely it will.
I continue along the quiet road. The vegetation changes from grassy to bushy, then tall lanky trees with white trunks, then I hit a very sandy, narrow
road. I see a few houses, a good sign. But then, the water buffaloes. They're on the road.
I've seen these plodding animals before, they always seem docile and compliant. But these seem different. There are so many, and lots of youngsters. They keep looking at me. They stop eating and stare. I try to talk to them. Nope, that doesn't work.
The noisemakers hanging from their necks clank and clunk, filling the air. I startle the cattle egrets pecking insects on their backs and they fly, then alight once again on the beasts. Mama buffaloes lower their heads and regard me carefully. Should I get out of here? Will they charge? They don't seem to want to be my friends.
I decide this road is better left untraveled, at least by me.
I retreat and think, the bridge! What will I do when it comes time to cross it? Surely a driver will come just when I need him to carry my bicycle across. I wait at the bridge, and wait, and wait. Where is my prince who will carry my bike to safety? Who will help me? I can't do this, it is far
too scary, especially where at one end there is only one plank. I hear no motos. No one comes. I approach the bridge several times and convince myself it is not safe, then back off into the shade.
After an eternity I move. I walk to the bridge with my bike, pick it up, and inch my way across. Don't look down. Don't feel the planks bend beneath the weight of my feet. Don't listen to the dreadful creaking noise that they make. I'm on the other side. And now I'm riding my bike again, enjoying the road, the quiet, and my small triumph.
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bertN
non-member comment
After a couple of shots of whiskey, I think I'll have the nerve to cross that bridge on foot. A couple of more shots and I can do it on a bike LOL.