Out of this world

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Geo: 13.4691, 104.041

Sunday was like a trip into a parallel world, the people who lived in the village we visited are alive at the same time as you and I but live a life pretty well unchanged for centuries.
A group of six of us wanted to go and see a place called Kompong Phluck which is a village that lays in a flood plane area on the North western edge of Tonle Sap the biggest inland lake in South East Asia.
Because we are all working here there are opportunities open to us which are not open to the average tourists.
Our co-coordinator contacted a friend of his who's family live out that way, his friend then organised for us to get to the village the "locals" way.
Most tourists can only get to another floating village about 30km to the north and its pretty well a worn tourist route but Kompong Phluck is harder to get to so its virtually left alone.
The transport was organised, a good price settled on, and we where away.
The first leg was from town in a Tuk Tuk, nothing strange there best form of transport around here.
After about 40 mins we leave the bitumen and hit the dirt road, again nothing strange there, most roads except for the main ones are dirt. But the conditions of the road gradually worsens and but the time we get to the next village one of the girls has had to resort to tying her scarf around her boobs to stop them from doing serious damage, to her and others, I imagine.
Any way thats as far as a tuk tuk can go so we jumped on the back of a dump truck. Almost like the dump trucks we have at home but without a drivers cabin or an engine cover. The driver is sitting in the open like he's driving a convertible, except that there is an exposed truck engine right between him and the passenger seat.
We got to sit in the back on a couple of bench seats removed from some long lost vehicle and placed down the sides, they weren't bolted to anything just sliding around in the back.
Well thankfully speed wasn't a problem although I do think we got into 2nd gear at some stage but the road was in such bad condition that every 10 meters or so there was a meter deep pot hole. We got bounced and thrown around for about 50 minutes going past corn and rice fields and being passed by locals who would rightly stare and giggle at the stupid white folk.
We reached a point where even our very talented driver and dilapidated truck could no longer get through and we boarded a boat.
A long narrow wooden boat with seats that looked reminiscent of once being in a bus, in-fact thats probably exactly what this boat was used for by the locals.
The boat also had an exposed engine down the back and the driver sat up the front, I had full faith in the driver he was at least 12 years old.
He steered using a rope that was fixed in one point to a steering wheel (probably from the same bus the engine and seats came out of) so if he turned the wheel one way it pulled the rope to the left moving the makeshift rudder etc.etc. its absolutely indicative of the ingenuity of the Cambodians, here the attitude is, nothing is wasted and use what you've got.
He drove us slowly down a river until we reached the village of Kompong Phluck, this is a village of 3000 plus people who live in houses on stilts 8-10 meters high, made out of long logs, sticks, bamboo and palm leaves . Its a fishing village and all the way along the river there is fish traps and fish nets used for farming.
The poverty in this region was quite over whelming, I have never witnessed anything like it. The villages made there money from farming fish catching shrimps and selling fire wood.
We past several people while we where in the truck riding towards town down that infamous dirt road with a pile of sticks tied on the back of their bikes. Apparently it takes all day for them to ride from home to town and back to sell fire wood and what little money they make buys rice.
The water level was quite low which meant that the land below their houses was usable and some where growing corn and greens or drying shrimp. A lot of them kept pigs as well (this is not the land to choose to be a pig; it seems you are likely to go through endless forms of humiliation before finally being eaten.... There are more pig stories to come) the pigs are kept in cage like structure but these to are elevated of the ground, sort of like a high rise sty. They are not as high as the houses but apparently they raise them as the water gets higher.
The houses where all structural masterpieces, the use of available materials ingenious, they looked like the best cubby houses ever. Except whole families lived in them everybody, old and young. There where no rails or balustrades around the various landings they have leading to the house and you see very young children climbing up and down them without fear.
Actually just of the track a bit, one very visible difference between the Cambodian children and those in a western society is their abilities and responsibilities.
The children here are far more capable and willing to help, everybody is expected to contribute irrelevant of age.
Kids here walk to and from school alone (gasp) they go and fetch water in buckets that weigh as much as themselves (shock) they wash their own clothes (horror) by hand (unheard of).
You can see a bicycle with up to 4 kids on it all under the age of 6, moto's going down the road with 2 year olds sitting between their legs holding the handle bars, they chop wood, prepare food, fish, drive boats and ride moto's all before they are 10 .
Sorry I digress but I just can't see any child I know having the confidence, ability and freedom to do what these children do. I reckon if you want your child to be a contributing member of society from birth then bring them up in Cambodia for their first 5 years.
Any way the village had a couple of Pagoda's (Buddhist Temples) an old one and one being built. I can't imagine how they get the materials for these buildings there but it must be a very slow labor intensive exercise. There was a school and 1 restaurant, which was a modified house boat.
We spent a bit of time there and got to talk to some of the people who where as interested in us as we where in them.
On the way back, returning the same way we got there, we where all very quiet. After visiting such a community and observing how they live it's hard to see where the future for these people lies. It could be that they are the only survivors of global warming because of the life they have always lived or tourism will irreparably alter their humble lives.

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