The Wild East

(By Susan)

Rory & I had a couple of days in Ban Lung where we took advantage of some time to do touristy things while the mineralogists did mineralogy things.

The Elephant.  She was lovely.  

Rory had found mention in the Lonely Planet Guide of the possibility of riding an elephant.  So that was first.  The hired van dropped us to the spot several Km from town.  We climbed atop a beautiful beast, sharing the dusty platform seat and proceeded around a short track that included a little local forest.  It wasn’t the exhilarating or awesome experience that we had hoped for, but now we’ve ridden an elephant.

Across the hills from a tiny bit North of Ban Lung.  A hut belonging to indigenous people in the foreground

We notice that no-one ever appears to be in a rush.  People just get about their business and things happen when they happen.  I can deal with that.  It seems civilised.  We also notice that everything is either recycled or repurposed.  Finished with that water bottle?  I'll use it to carry fuel, tea, more water.... And everywhere, several times a day, the kids go backwards and forwards on various forms of transport in their blue and white uniforms.  

On the way to class

It’s often the bits that you haven’t planned that give you the moments to remember, and those have been plentiful: attempting to arrange a motorbike from the elephant ride back into town and being handed a Nokia handset to speak to the owner of the bike; seeing the shop that sold all the things that the other shops need – the display cases, eskies, stools, petrol pumps, umbrellas, pots, green ‘kangaroo’ scales of varying sizes, umbrellas; watching stall holders keeping flies off random pieces of pig and pig heads with a plastic bag on a stick; discovering that there’s always a different price for “A Khmer” to “A Foreigner”; taking a motorbike down to a most beautiful lake in the crater of an old volcano, having a swim, and enjoying the breeze on the return journey; watching a woman weave a blanket, trying to give her the right money for a piece of her work, discovering that the misunderstanding was that she didn’t have the few ‘reil’ to give me in change, refusing to take it as I’d thought I hadn’t given her enough (due to the very fluid exchange rates) whereupon she grabbed one of her scarves and wrapped it around my neck as a gift;  discovering that one of the reasons for ensuring that you have applied enough sunscreen is to guarantee even adherence of airborne dust particles; watching piglets being transported in cylindrical basket-cages on the back of motorbikes; walking past Mr 17 and his white acoustic guitar playing Carpenter’s-style numbers while waiting to serve in his shop. 

A foreigner costs a little more than half a minibus...

We took a guided bushwalk too.  The track took us through gorgeous hardwood forest and across a number of mountain streams, through cashew plantations and past dormant rice fields.  This was time to reflect on what we were actually seeing.  

I don't know what the are, but I love these trees

Apparently this means we're in a protected forest area.  Interesting, given the level of chainsaw activity.

Spider web.  There were lots of them, but thankfully, these were tiny buggers.

Walking past the indigenous people’s dwellings we notice animals in, around, and under their homes – chickens cleaning the dishes inches from the place the meal is eaten, pigs wandering between the two raised platforms used as sleeping quarters and connected with a palm-thatched roof.  Children of all ages playing in streams or around the houses, if they’re not helping to do the work that is required of everyone in the family.  Houses repaired with scraps of tin, blue tarpaulin, or that fabric you see that makes those huge red, white, and blue, striped bags you see everywhere.  

Yaek Loam Lake

The lovely weaving lady

Giant hardwoods in the “protected” forest areas being felled for posts and furniture (amazing chainsaw-work producing pieces that look as if they’ve come straight from the mill).  Babies and children eating, sleeping, and playing around their mum’s market stall.  Forests being cleared to make way for acres and acres of rubber plantations.  Rubbish strewn everywhere.  How is it possible to make sense of it from our privileged Western context?  These people have been displaced so many times by tyrants, carpet-bombing, and land-mines.  Now, it seems, by rubber.  

Rory's lunch selection was a 'thumbs-up' at the Ban Lung Market

Heading off down the track with our guide, Sobonne

A cashew tree.  That's the fruit that the cashew comes in.

No local we speak to has much that is positive to say about the Government, the Police, the way that big business is done, but ex-pats living here and many who have spent a long time travelling around the country feel very warmly about the place – it’s about the people.

Hardwood forest

So picturesque

Nice chainsaw-work.  Straight from here to the furniture manufacturer.

There are schools, and several times a day you’ll see the children walking, cycling, and motorcycling backwards and forwards for classes.  They are very proud to say “hello”, “how are you”, and “bye bye”.  It’s good to see that the kids and their parents are keen to take advantage of the education system.  The schools are all of a similar design – the same design as the school that became Tuol Sleng Prison…  No.  It’s impossible to make sense of it all, least of all to understand.

Inside the hut

In between the two sleeping quarters - note the fire, the pig, and the machete

A hut belonging to an indigenous family.  We had a break here.

We’re pleased to have been able to contribute in a tiny way.  And thrilled that we’ve had this opportunity to go to places that are well off the beaten track.  Overwhelmed by what we’ve seen.  Thankful for the life that we have and the opportunities we’re in a position to take.

The village school as it is

 A student taking the others through their maths lesson

The new school is only 6 weeks away