We visited Kompong Phhluk, a village near the Tonle Sap, Southeast Asia's largest freshwater lake. In Kompong Phhluk, the homes are built on stilts as the water level varies wildly -- apparently by 20 feet or so -- between the wet and dry seasons. Much of the time, people get around by boat.
To get there, we first tuk-tukked (sure, it's a verb) about an hour out of town. The trip along the highway was itself an experience. Away from the sedate, colonial boulevards around Angkor Wat, Cambodia feels more like India to us than anywhere else we've been so far in Southeast Asia, with its dusty or muddy (or both) roads, slightly anarchic traffic, and Kashmir-like bazaars along the highway.
And then there was the sight that left us both gaping. I wish we had a picture, but it zoomed past much too fast. Behind a smallish man on a motorscooter was an enormous dead pig, sticking out on either side of the bike, several feet across. Its snout and feet pointed straight up, dead-bug style. It was bright pink in a way that suggested a long day on Waikiki beach. Probably six feet from nose to tail, its rigid pink body was taking the whole lane.
After the big road and its cosmopolitan sights, the scenery rapidly became much more rural.
We bounced along through a rutted lane, occasionally hitting our heads on the ceiling. (The tuk-tuks here, otherwise known as remorque-motos, are built in a way that really launches you out of your seat.)
When we reached the river, a barefooted guy led us along the road to his boat. A loud motor and a cool breeze started up as we chugged through the flattest landscape I've ever seen.
Half-submerged vegetation rose up on either side, with the occasional interesting soccer-ball-sized nest made of dirt.
I never found out what makes the nests -- probably a bird? The Tonle Sap is important habitat for many creatures, especially birds. We saw what might have been a crane, several egrets, and a bright blue kingfisher, and at a nearby bird sanctuary, you can apparently see thousands and thousands of birds, including rare cranes.
Eventually we emerged into more open water and then the village of Kompong Phhluk.
Main Street
It's now the tail end of the rainy season, so there's plenty of water, but the stilted houses still are well above its surface. Under them, people store baskets and nets for fishing and catching shrimp, as well as bicycles -- and the occasional pig pen!
Some homes are apparently built to enable people to move up and down, living in the lower stories when they're dry and moving up when the water does.
Meeting the locals
Everything is here, just like in a regular village. Even the town temple is on tall stilts -- in its case, the stilts are concrete.
Water wat
We took a brief and wonderful ride on a small canoe; a friendly woman (see Marty's post) paddled us through the town and out into a flooded forest. I don't know how the trees survive being submerged under several feet of water for months, but it seemed like a very healthy forest.
We wove around thick branches and glided beneath giant spider webs in total silence except for the slight splash of the oar. The trunks of the trees shimmered with reflected light.
It was magical.
When we returned to the larger boat, the driver took us out into the open lake and cut the motor. We crawled to the back of the boat, stuck our feet and our heads over the side of the boat into the water, and splashed around. It was terrific.
Whee!
Then we headed back into the village for a quick lunch fifteen feet over the water and a nice cooling drink.
A rather assertive tag line
Though he was unpatriotic and didn't have a beer, Marty ended the day with a terrible headache. Fortunately, he's recovered now, and in spite of the headache, he agrees that this was one of our best days here.
I'm sorry about the headache. So many new substances to ingest/inhale that it must be hard to know what is making one's body react.
ReplyDeleteI am also incredibly sorry there is no picture of the pig's makeshift funeral procession slash journey to the table. I will have to exercise my imagination.
I picture this town as a place where one sees four people riding on one moped as it spews gas fumes from its ancient engine. A place where sometimes one can see the whole road go washing downhill like a river when the rains come.
I know, I'm so sorry we didn't get a picture. That was some pig.
ReplyDeleteYeah, four people on a moped is about right. Not too many cars, which is great. There are sidewalks, which you might not expect, but they generally have bikes and motorcycles parked all over them. The roads are like obstacle courses of brown lake-like puddles and big humps and rare flattish parts that everyone aims for. Bigger roads are smoother but the residential ones make for a wild ride.