Dust, Water, and Illegal Night Fishing

It wasn’t your typical Easter Sunday.

In fact, it wasn’t mine either. Of course, it had all the requirements- the ethereal hymns, the pastor’s sermon glowing with the eternal hope- the works. However, hotel guests sauntered by the doorway of a room probably more familiar with business luncheons than the hearty singing of the saints. Also, it took place in Siem Reap, Cambodia- a first for me.

Dust.

After overlanding it by bus and taxi to Siem Reap, I spent the first part of my trip my friend Matt’s orphanage, which was definitely great! I especially enjoyed one teenager who was the ruling chess shark. I’m proud to say I narrowly escaped forcing him into a stalemate, which he was not at all happy about!

Angkor Wat

Nature wins.

I spent the next two days biking around the Angkor Archaeological Park, which includes over 1,000 ancient within 400 sq km. In 105 degree heat. Suffice it to say, I was unable to visit all of them (severe understatement). The park was marvelous- where formidable temples and bustling cities once lay, massive trees had torn through their streets and chambers, engulfing them in roots as thick as telephone poles.

Upon leaving , I traveled to Phnom Penh and was able to visit my friend Karen, a former intern with IJM. While there, I also visited two locations which continually revisited in my thoughts: Tuol Sleng Prison and the Killing Fields Memorial. The prior was a elementary school transformed into the most brutal, horrific prison during the reign of the Khmer Rouge. Thousands of victims- not only men and women, children as well- were brought in to be tortured to death, and if they survived, they would be trucked outside the city only to be beaten to death or buried alive in an enormous mass grave- The Killing Field.

A Tuol Sleng "interrogation" room

Not even visiting Auschwitz prepared one for the ghastliness- sallow stains still clung to the floors beneath rusting bedframes which people had been chained to while being tortured to death. In many rooms, a weathered black and white image of one of its victims hung in the room they had perished. Purposefully, the rooms were left as they were so as to not soften what the world had allowed to occur in near-willful ignorance.

I left Cambodia with a wide array of emotions and memories- some pleasant, others somber, but all valuable. Hopefully, I will have chance to return one day.

Water.

The family and I aboard the rafthouse

Days after returning home, I was invited by a Thai friend to join him and his best friend- along with his family- on a three day fishing trip on a rafthouse they had built. Despite the many cultural and lingual barriers, I had an absolutely fantastic time and loved getting to know these people!

There was Nok, who invited me for the weekend and was the only other person on the raft who spoke English. Gkai, Nok’s best friend, who spoke little unless he had drank a bit and then he would expound on philosophies he’d contrived. Along with Gkai and his wife, they had brought three children: Jah (the little princess of the family, spoiled in that special way Thai families do), Jin, the sweetest teenager you’ll meet- he has Down Syndrome and loved to stroke my arm and chest hair) and Jung, the wise-cracking college freshmen who loved to be “one of the guys”.

We spent most of our time sitting out on the annex raft, fishing for whatever we could catch which, in my case, was very little- I don’t have the patience for it. Eating was a massive undertaking, with Nok and Gkai working several hours in advance to prepare multiple-course meals, all very savory and delicious.

Hot chillies were added to the soaking shellfish we'd caught- this made them release dirt and sand

There were many highlights to the trip- the good conversation with Nok, teaching the boys in the art of water chicken fighting, eating, etc. I think that the best part of the experience was simply being part of the family, watching how they interact, and the sense of belonging the came along with it.

On the last day, we woke to find half a dozen enormous fish lying motionless on the raft. They were a farewell present from Long Roy- a wisened old fisherman who owned the land and was a good friend of the familys’- he’d caught them for us by setting illegal traps in the neighboring national park. What a guy!

One of our Illegal gifts!

The last two weeks certainly hold some of the most valuable memories of the year to date. Hopefully, they’ll soon be eclipsed during my return to the U.S. on May 4th- has it really been two years that I departed as a young teacher to a small school in Nonthaburi, Thailand?

Note: I know this is a little late in the blog game, but for those of you who’ve enjoyed reading my blogs but forget to check for new entries, scroll down to the bottom- I’ve added a device that will notify you by email when I update. Cheers!

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