And they load up the westerners first. This, on the face of it, is annoying, because you get picked up early and then spend up to an hour touring one square mile picking up everyone else. But it means we get the best seats on the bus. Because we’ve paid a lot more than anyone else. Bags, boxes and crates are also included, often dropped off at seemingly random (but most definitely not random) points along the way.
And the air-conditioning kept cutting out. “Why’s it not working?” I asked Natalie. She looked at me, smiled and said, “Because we’re going up hill – not enough umph for the both.” Ah yes. First-world brain moment again. It’s good to be conscious of them – puts our world and lives into perspective.
Liked Kratie as soon as we arrived – even the moto driver who tried to hassle us wasn’t too insistent.
Our lunchtime view:
Then we bought grapes and some fruit that looked like small, spiky sweet pototoes for breakfast. Much of the fruit seems to be in the same ilk: a hard, often spiky shell, with fleshy or opaque fruit, and a central stone. “Same, but different”, as they would say around here.
And then headed to the River Dophin Hotel, as we’d decided to splash out £12 on a room. It was so worth it. I had my first hot shower since Dubai (yes, I know I haven’t mentioned it, but I’m a stoical kinda girl). It was even better than coming out of the wilderness into Yosemite Valley. Maybe I’m just easily pleased 🙂
Today I walked with elephants. It was a humbling and surprisingly spiritual experience.
But first we needed to feed the pigs:
Then it was off to find the elephants:
All are abused elephants who have been brought here to recuperate, either purchased outright from their owners or part of a “compensation” scheme where the owners are paid about $250pm to let them stay, mostly on a long-term (eg 10-year) contract.
Some ele info:
Life expectancy is 70 (wild) to 80 (captivity)
Only 300 – 400 wild elephants remain in Cambodia
Communication is using trumpeting, squeaking and rumbling (which can travel a long way in the right conditions)
All the eles at the Elephant Valley Project (EVP) are female – because males are stronger, they’re worked harder and longer, and owners are less amenable to parting with them
It costs $14k – $20k to buy an ele, dependent upon gender, age and condition (and whether they’ve just rampaged a farm and put the family into debt)
Despite appearances, their skin is quite thin and sensitive (y’know, to whips, bull-hooks and things like that…)
A raised spine is a sign of rib compression caused by extreme loads across their backs
Mainly worked in tourism (rides on their backs), logging and construction
Wild populations are difficult to track, and they don’t publish any info they do have for fear of poaching
The eles at EVP aren’t bred because most of them are too old; and it’s difficult to get a male elephant (it’s also against the beliefs of the local Bunong people, but when questioned EVP confirmed they’d prioritise the elephants’ welfare over this if there was a male in town – interested applicants can contact them via their website)
Unfortunately, animal welfare is pretty low on the agenda, and they have no authority to remove abused elephants from their owners
EVP has three other initiatives:
Land title: the indigenous people don’t actually own the land their families have lived on for centuries, and are at risk of being chucked off; so EVP have hired surveyors and lawyers and are at the final stages of securing the land for the people
Healthcare: ele abuse (and illegal logging) can happen to pay healthcare costs so EVP have set up a scheme covering about 2,600 indigenous people
Education: … and a similar scheme for education
All the eles at EVP are female, only one is of breeding age and hasn’t yet come into season (potentially as a result of the abuse) and males are very difficult to get hold of, so there are no breeding programmes (but lots in Thailand).
I spent the day simply following the elephants (one group in the morning, another in the afternoon) who are allowed, and encouraged to just be elephants (after years of abuse some have lost their natural instincts). We got pretty close (within a few metres), but didn’t touch them. Here are some more photos, because I think they speak from themselves:
Washing in one of the streams – afterwards, they throw dirt over themselves to protect their skin. The next day, that gets washed off and another lot “applied”:
This whip scorpion (harmless) also made an appearance:
And an outdoor toilet:
Great day – a highlight of my trip 🙂 That’s all, folks 🙂
Headed out to the Elephant Valley Project – a reasonable contingent of tourists. The “base camp” is pretty incredible, built in sympathy with the local forest (often called a jungle, but I don’t think it technically is). There’s a lounge:
And dorms with my bed for the night (complete with mosquito net, vital in these parts):
And today’s bug review is pleasingly full:
Then a game of cards, and off to bed for 9pm. There’s no curfew, but the generator only works between 6 and 9pm, so if you’re not tucked up, better get the headtorch out. Really looking forward to meeting the eles tomorrow.
Cambodians know what’s happening to their country: the illegal logging, selling land to line the pockets of key officials, corruption and suppression of free speech. Yet there’s a feeling of resignation, certainly from those people with all-too-clear memories of the Khmer Rouge. But remember the Arab Spring? A wonder if a similar explosion will happen in Cambodia. Whilst the elders remain subdued, the younger generation seem very clued up on their country in comparison to the rest of the world. Western culture gets through via movies and music, and it’s their dream. We are living their dream. And surely the bubble will burst, maybe not now or next year, but at some point I wouldn’t be surprised if the people take back control of their country and their destiny.
Dol, my (very good) moto driver knew the deal. He showed me rubber, coffee and fruit crops grown on land sold, and the trees cut and sold to Vietnam (ultimately destined for that global juggernaut, China). Mahogany is (was?) abundant here – dusty street cafes with incongruous mahogany dinner tables and chairs.
Cambodia’s border is moving, gradually being stolen by Thailand and Vietnam, like a small sapling suffocated by the taller, stronger trees around it.
“Bou Sra” is a large double waterfall about one hour from Sen Monorom. Being a bit of a water-baby I was keen to see it. Shoulda guessed that it would be touristified – stalls led down to the waterfront, as well as a busker:
It’s pretty here… and the land has just a been sold to a rich Cambodian who has plans for world domination:
A posh hotel and a zip line is all that’s there at the moment. Why someone would want to take such a picturesque place and ruin it with a zip line is beyond me. But they follow the tourists, because tourists mean cash. I’m sure you’re getting the picture… and it’s not pretty, not good for the majority of Cambodians and not sustainable.
“No tourists,” Dol pointed out. We were sat in a river propped up against a small waterfall for a massage. “You know why? No road, no signs.” Good point – he’d dived off in a dirt track and stripped off.
Much smaller than Bou Sra but just as picturesque and people weren’t trying to sell me t-shirts. We stayed quite a while, just talking. Dol is 45, is married with four children and has never been out of Cambodia. He used to be a trucker, but earns more as a moto driver (like Cuba, the best-paid jobs are those dealing with tourists). He works whenever a tourist wants to go out and doesn’t go on holiday (because he can’t afford the trip nor the time off).
At the coffee plantation where we stopped for lunch, Dol ordered an iced coffee and offered me a sip. I’m not much of a coffee drinker, but it was the strongest I’ve ever tasted – like neat coffee, bitter but not overly so.
Dol suggested the Ban Chav for lunch. “Do you know how to eat it?” asked the waitress and proceeded to demonstrate how to collect some of the leaves and herbs, tear off some of the omelette-like stuff (actually made with rye (or did he say “rice”?) flour) and then a pinch of the omelette “filling”. Wrap it up, dip it in the sauce (I bypassed the hot chili) and down it goes. Delicious. Kinda reminded me of fajitas in the way you construct it yourself.
The “minority village” on the tour was actually one house… and they admitted they’d had another built, so how much this one was used I’m not sure, but it was like stepping back in time. A fire burned in the middle of a shack made of wooden posts and weaved walls, with a raised platform with bamboo slats covered with a rug:
“Do you have houses like this?” the old woman asked. Hmmm, how to answer, I thought. “In the C16”, probably wasn’t too diplomatic even if it was truthful. They know Europe is very different but I’m not sure what good would come of them knowing just how much more advanced we are. So I resolved it by explaining we used to, but as England is much colder our houses are made of brick. And left it at that. But then her son-in-law appeared… with a really flashy mobile phone. And then my phone started beeping as text messages came in. I stepped outside to see their back “yard”, and there was a massive telephone mast in their back garden. All over Cambodia I’ve witnessed the same thing: poverty with technology slicing through it. But they’ve jumped in at mobile phones, skipping the “research and development” phase. Very incongruous, but only to a naive western mind, I guess.
People marry young here: 17/18 for girls; a few years older for boys. And children are important: with no state healthcare, children are your insurance policy. Dol explained that even women who don’t want to marry have children. Unfortunately some (and some of those whose marriages break down) end up in prostitution. I didn’t ask how he knew, but Dol advised that the going rate was $10, with the girl keeping $5 and her pimp getting the other half. He provides food and shelter… and almost certainly makes a handsome profit, too. But again, things are changing – when people go to school/college they now have boyfriends and girlfriends, something so far not part of their culture. Apparently, they sneak out to “have a good time” but use contraception. Just another inkling that things might change round here within our lifetime.
Cambodia is in the middle of a 15-day festival, finishing on 11 Oct. Temples start the loud music from 5am (aargh!), with a break between midday and 3pm (very like a siesta and for the same reason – it’s baking hot here). Their society is a lot more religious, so the majority of people will partake in the ritual of attending 7 or so pagodas within this time, bringing food for the monks (and for a corker of a party afterwards). It’s amazing to see, but makes me feel even more like an intruder, so I haven’t ventured into many. The temple on the hilltop near Sen Monorom was the same, but the view was great:
And this view is called the “Forest Sea” because the shades of green (not visible in this photo because I’m a rubbish photographer) look like waves. I just hope that they can hold on to it amid the government mass sell-off.
“Uh-oh”, said Dol with a sharp intake of breath, and he brought the moto to an abrupt halt. He tensed, and shut off the engine.
“What?”
“Snake,” he whispered. Sure enough, a pale leaf-green snake with a pinky-red tail was making its way, in its own time (as snakes have the prerogative to do), across the road.
“Cool! Is it poisonous?”
He nodded. I think he also thought I was mad. I got off the moto, but obviously didn’t go any closer.
It was going to be difficult to beat today’s wildlife encounter. I’ve seen snakes, but this is my first poisonous one (that I know – I didn’t stop to talk to the one in California).
Sen Monorom waterfall still kept its sparkle, though. It struck me that, apart from the types of trees, it could well be somewhere within England.
And then home, via the dusty track:
… with a bruised derriere (it’s not as padded as I thought) after a fantastic, educational day. Thanks, Dol 🙂
Getting into the travelling way of life: jumped off the van from Banlung to Sen Monorom, bowled up to a cafe I’d read about in a local mag and organised somewhere to stay. Gradually descending from flashpacker back to backpacker – the room was $4 (about £2.50). I was interested to find out what I won’t get for the extra $8. Answer: hot water, flushing toilet, toilet paper and sane neighbours. But I do get: paper-thin walls, an unlimited supply of ants and psycho neighbours. Sobbing and anguished cries from next door weren’t sleep-inducing, but another soothing voice gave me hope she’d be OK..
Callum is an Aussie who arrived at the cafe 5 years ago… and ended up marrying the owner. So many people I’ve met started out travelling and found somewhere they didn’t want to leave. Being on the road is great – I wake up each morning and can pretty much do whatever I like, including come home – but I definitely wouldn’t want to live here. Shows how different people are.
I knew Mr Sophann had overcharged me for my van ticket (and whilst I queried it with him I kinda had little choice, and he knew it) but was interested to know by how much. Callum confirmed locals would buy the ticket for about $5.50 and re-sell it for $8 (which is fair enough). I paid $15. Mr Sophann will indeed get the TripAdvisor review he kept nagging me for. I might even write him two 🙂
Natalie was also on the van – it was nice to meet another lone female traveller who speaks English, and she was good fun. We bought some lonigans (small fleshy fruit, with a large stone and potato-like hard shell) and sat on the main road munching and talking. This was a lot more fun than it sounds!
Spent the early evening sat at a cafe eating cake. This is significant – there aren’t many cake places in Cambodia. Sen Monorom has a relatively high ex-pat collective because of the various wildlife projects in town, and they bring beer and cake. Elephant Valley Project (see Sun/Mon) had warned that people might try to warn us off: that their elephants had run away, that it was all a scam, etc. And indeed it came true: the owner had called her son who lectured us about how the two NGOs in the area were taking work away from local guides. As the two NGOs in question own their elephants, I was intrigued to know what elephants he was going to take us to for the $35 he would charge (about half the NGO fee). I feel for them, and it’s so difficult to know what’s “right”.
A laid-back day. Surprisingly difficult to get your head round at first, coming from a life that’s constantly busy. But here it’s very different. Many people don’t “go to work” in the same way – they work long, but chilled, and the pace of life is slow. Allow yourself to, and it’s easy to slide into it.
