ANDYBROUWER.CO.UK
CAMBODIA
TALES 2005 - JANUARY
Along
the Bassac River
More
photos to follow
The Bassac River (commonly
referred to as Tonle Bassac) is a tributary of the mighty Mekong
River and runs parallel to its bigger neighbour as it flows south
from Phnom Penh and out to the Vietnamese border near Chau Doc.
Its a popular entry and exit route for locals between the two
countries and an area rich in many varieties of produce brought
about as a result of the annual floods. My plan was to take a
relaxing day trip with my moto-driver Tom and follow the Bassac
along its west bank, cross the river and return to Phnom Penh
along its east bank, stopping at intervals along the route. My
trips aren't all about discovering ancient temples. One of the
real pleasures about Cambodia is the ability to enjoy simple,
unhurried trips into the countryside with no agenda other than to
enjoy the scenery and to interact with the locals.
After breakfast at the Dara
Reang Sey, we left at 8am, out along busy Norodom Boulevard, and
onto Route 2 past the garment factories until we reached Takhmau
town. Once over the bridge, we turned left and followed the
'local' road as it hugged the riverbank rather than take the
sealed Route 21. Bouncing along the bumpy track, under the shade
of overhanging trees, this gave us a typical insight into morning
life as we passed through small riverside villages where children
walked to school, toddlers played in the dirt, women haggled with
each other at vegetable stands and their menfolk stood around,
typicially doing very little. A few hello's were heard though my
krama was over my face because of the red dust kicked up by a
couple of passing cars - I'm often surprised that the locals can
recognise I'm a foreigner even though my face is shrouded in a
krama. We stopped at a couple of pagodas though both were of the
modern concrete variety and typical of the type you find dotted
throughout the Cambodian countryside in recent years. At Roka
Khpos we left the pleasant 'local' road to join the busier Route
21, which continued to hug the west riverbank of the Bassac,
which was rather surprisingly devoid of any river traffic, even
small fishing boats. Stopping at another four wats enroute, we
didn't see anything of real interest until we reached Wat Prek
Ambel around 10.30am. With steps leading down to the river, this
large wat had a very colourful and ornate vihara which was
undergoing reconstruction and a substantial compound housing
living quarters for many monks and nuns. Tom pointed across the
river towards his own village of Khpoc, which lay on the opposite
bank and told me that as a young boy he would sometimes cross the
Bassac to this wat with his friends.
We continued along the smooth
highway, which is the main artery for those heading south to
Vietnam and the locals-only border crossing at Chrey Thom. We had
to cross lots of small bridges over streams branching off the
main river that irrigate the Angkor Borei area to the west and
which is heavily flooded every wet season. Because of this, the
land on both sides of the Bassac river is particularly productive
for rice, vegetable and fruit crops, whilst the province is
better known more recently as a hotbed of gasoline smuggling
across the border. The road was certainly busy with lots of
traffic heading in both directions. Alongwith the many restored
pagodas, we encountered quite a few crumbling French colonial-era
buildings along the route as well as a handful of wedding parties
spilling onto the road, before we reached Prek Thmey, roughly
two-thirds of the way to the border. Tom suggested we cross over
the river on a small ferry to enable us to meet his family and
have some lunch at his home village. A phonecall to his sister,
after he asked me what I liked to eat, put the necessary wheels
in motion. The ferry, full of schoolchildren, handled people and
motorbike traffic only and took five minutes to cross the
muddy-brown river, costing 900 riel for the two of us and our
moto and deposited us on the opposite riverbank at a village
called Kompong Kong. The east bank of the Bassac, the strip of
land between the two rivers, was far more rural and undeveloped
than along Route 21. Farmers were much in evidence tending their
crops and cattle, water canals ran alongside the bumpy track that
masqueraded as the main road, whilst the houses were of wooden
construction on stilts rather than built of concrete or brick. At
mid-day, we stopped at Kompong Kor village for a refreshing
sugar-cane drink outside the gates of a school and whilst sat
under a tree on the riverbank, were soon surrounded by a group of
curious and giggling children. All along the route I received
constant hello's and goodbyes, especially when we took a detour
to Wat Dei Kralong, where the vihara had beautifully painted
external walls, internal paintings and lots of wall mirrors and a
boisterous schoolroom nearby.
At 1pm we arrived at Khpoc
village. This was Tom's birthplace and where his father and most
of his family still live. We looked around Wat Khpoc where he
spent a short time as a boy and also visited his old school
opposite the pagoda. Though he was wearing a helmet, he was
recognised by everyone on the way to his father's house and a
small welcoming party. Though his father was unwell and was
sleeping, his two sisters and their husbands, a brother, his
grandmother and a gaggle of nieces and nephews quickly appeared
from amongst the surrounding houses. All the adults then sat down
on a wooden platform next to the house and a plentiful lunch of
chicken, fresh fish and vegetables was served, washed down with
bottled water and fresh coconuts. It was an excellent meal and I
thanked my hosts for their genuine hospitality. Everyone was
pleased to see Tom, who moved away to live in Phnom Penh fifteen
years ago and only returns every few months. Today, his return
accompanied by a foreigner, had been a special occasion and I was
treated as an honoured guest. It was typical of the treatment I
receive throughout this beautiful country. Just after 2pm we said
our goodbyes and Tom suggested we return to the west bank of the
Bassac to speed up our return journey. Just behind the village we
boarded another small ferry boat, this time the price rose to
1,000 riel and re-crossed the river.
Retracing our steps
along Route 21, just before we reached Takhmau at 3.30pm, we once
again crossed the Bassac by ferry, this time at my request, to
return to a pagoda I'd visited previously in March 1998, called
Wat Champuk Ka'Ek. It was the site of a newly-built wat and a
killing fields memorial back then. At the entrance it looked like
a lot of money had been poured into this pagoda and that was
clearly evident by a proliferation of family stupas, a 
large reclining
Buddha, a school and a religious meditation centre that had
sprung up surrounding the large central vihara. The stupa
containing the remains of the Khmer Rouge victims found nearby
had been moved a few hundred metres to a new location. Research
by the DC-Cam in Phnom Penh has revealed that a Khmer Rouge
prison on the site was responsible for over 18,000 deaths, where
the bodies were placed in numerous mass grave pits around the
temple grounds. We stopped for a cold drink at a stall in the
grounds of the pagoda before returning to Takhmau where we called
into another wat with a much older vihara, before heading back to
Phnom 
Penh amongst the late
afternoon rush-hour traffic, arriving back at the Dara a little
after 5pm. We'd been on the road for ten hours and enjoyed a very
pleasant day trip with lovely scenery and friendly people,
crowned by the reception I'd been given at Tom's home village.
Another successful day in the Cambodian countryside.
To contact Tom (his
real name is Thourk), e-mail him at: doungthourk@hotmail.com or call him on his mobile telephone, 011
865 631. His spoken English is very good and I recommend
him as a moto-driver and city guide. His normal hang-out
is the Boddhi Tree guesthouse next to the Toul Sleng
Genocide Museum.
Here's links to the rest of my Cambodia
Tales
Cambodia Tales
Cambodia Tales 2
January 2005 marked my eleventh trip to
Cambodia since my first-ever visit in 1994. It's a country
that has a special magic all of its own and which draws me
back every year to venture out into the Cambodian countryside
in search of new adventures, ancient temples and to catch up
with the friends I've made from previous visits. Each trip is
full of laughter, smiles and a host of fresh experiences and
my latest expedition was no exception.
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