Visiting a floating village and becoming the patron saint of ice cream.
Since we arrived in Cambodia, I have been seeing temples daily.
I have dreamt of visiting Angkor Wat since I was in high school and seen black and white photos that one of my photographer friends brought back from his travels.
But by now, I am feeling 'all templed out'.
I need to sit and meditate, with closed eyes... in a quiet temple....
I decided to go see a remote 'floating village'.
A leisurely boat ride down a river filled with blooming Lilli flowers..... to visit a picturesque floating village.....on a large lake...... It sounded so exotic to me... (there is another floating village close to Siem Reap which is NOT worth a visit, since it is mostly a tourist attraction.
If you do plan to visit, write down the name of the floating village I mentioned below, you will not regret seeing it.)
The floating village of Kompong Khleung, on Tonle Sap lake, is located about an hours and a half drive from Siem Reap.
You drive through small villages where people make an extra living, weaving baskets,or selling sticky rice, cooked inside bamboo stalks, over burning coals.
"The countryside is very poor", says Chen, our guide.
But I do not see poverty or desperation.
In fact, I see people living lives the way it was before the invention of money and our illusory belief in it, and our silly addiction to it.
To me, the countryside is beautiful.
Large stretches of rice fields, mango, banana, papaya and bread fruit trees dot the landscape.
Houses are made simply but with their own Eco naturalness and functionality that befits the weather here and makes them charming.
They are built on tall stilts, to protect the inhabitants from rodents, snakes and flooding.
The coolest place, is under the house.
This is where they tie their hammocks or have an elevated bed on which to sit, cook, and spend away the hot hours of the day.
Houses are built from wood or bamboo and they have only one large communal room.
Usually the steps on the stairs, leading to the entranceway, are done in odd numbers, which are considered very lucky.
The walls are wooden boards, or mats, woven from thin and long slices of bamboo.
A collection of large wooden boats were waiting for us by the river, to take us to the floating village by the lake.
The boat we took, was a former fishing boat, fitted with regular house wooden chairs.
The rudder used to stir this large clanky boat, was a contraption of ropes and a foot operated lever.... Plus..... the use of a large stick, which our limping captain used to push our boat away from getting dangerously close to other boats or houseboats, while simultaneously talking on his mobile phone.
I did not expect such a large floating village, nor did I expect the large monastery with wonderful mural paintings on the walls, and curious shy monks,..... and I DEFINITELY did not expect to become the 'patron saint of the Ice Cream'....
But life takes you places... And you got to go...
This floating village is the real thing... four thousand people live here.
Houses are built on stilts on both sides of the river, and people use boats to get anywhere.
Even very young children row boats alone.
Only in the dry season, do they touch the land.
Fishermen used to fish here with electricity, before it became illegal, as well as with dynamite.
To fish with electricity, they lowered an ancient electrical cord, connected to a generator and electrically shocked every fish around.
The dead fishl floated to the surface and were collected.
Now they fish with nets.
They collect their drinking water from the river or venture deeper into the lake, where the water is cleaner.
There is no sewer system in place.
People shower in the lake's water and toilets run strait into the same river.
The houses and boats are so picturesque, I click my camera like a mad woman.
There is so much beauty and artistic esthetics, in the ways the houses are painted, colorful laundry is flapping in the wind, the saffron robes of the monks and the kids jumping into the waters, their voices ring like tiny bells in my ears...... Boy, I love this world so much...
On an island we take a break to see the center of this floating village.
This is where they pray, study, have ceremonies, cremate their dead and celebrate holidays.
There is a colorful monastery on the island.
The monks wear saffron robes and they are smiling at us with warmth.
On the monastery grounds, old nuns and ladies are eating on the floor.
With their hands, they scoop up rice, and salads made from basil and lemon and cut veg.
They signal with their hands to me to come and eat with them, but I am not hungry and my natural fussiness around cleanliness, prevents me from accepting their warm hospitality.
I am not proud of myself... But I know that they use river water mixed with human excrements and I am not sure my system can filter it safely.... Nor do I want to find out....
Today, was a celebration and people had a festival in the center of the small island.
Some were selling cut fruit, other sold cooked and grilled food.
There were candy and drinks, roasted nuts and roasted frogs.
We are the only tourists on the island and naturally kids gather around us.
They pose for our cameras and observe us closely.
Their curious eyes follow us... How we move, dress, how we interact.
An extremely dusty looking boy approaches me.
He positions himself in front of my camera.
He is about twelve and he is wearing old dirty pajamas, with permanent stains and kitty cat prints.
It is an extremely hot day and my instincts tells me that he would love an ice cream.
A lady is selling ice creams out of a large red cooler right next to me.
I tell Chen that I want to buy the kid an ice cream.
(I really feel like doing so much more... Maybe adopting him, giving him a good scrub wash, a clean bed, a loving home, a new start in life.... But I know that he is not homeless, nor is he without parents..... he is just a kid from another part of the world...)
His eyes glisten when the lady opens up her cooler and takes out the plastic cup with the frozen treat.
As if manifested out of thin air, a dozen of other kids are standing around him, all with envy in their eyes...
They are looking at the lucky 'chosen' boy with wonder in their eyes... But they are not begging me... Justing looking with their sad eyes....
I decide that a bit of generosity can go a long way here... In making many kids happy.... and I decide to buy ice cream for the kids standing by.
There is a frenzy of excitement and the ice cream lady is blushing with joy...
She dutifully give each kid an ice cream cup and a straw.
Now, we are surrounded with many more dozens of kids, all looking at me with sad eyes, while curling their hair or skirts, looking pitiful... So I suggest another round of ice-cream...
The lady is surrounded with screaming kids,who wave their open hands asking to be noticed....The ice cream lady has her hat hanging sideways, her face flushed and hot, she is trying to calm the kids down... To have them form some kind of line.... She is unsuccessful....
I have created a situation here....
Now we have almost a hundred kids all trying to get a cold treat... Chen steps in to help the lady, but they both can hardly manage.
Jules step in as well, and the three of them do their best to try to distribute the ice cream to as many kids, making sure that some kids who already got an ice cream, do not come back for a second, before all kids get an ice cream.
Some kids collect their ice cream and come to me, curtsy, and say thanks, before they run of, to show their friends or mothers what they got... Pointing at me with big grateful eyes....
When I was a kid, my mother kept telling me again and again: "Eat your food, children in Cambodia are dying of hunger.... They wish they had the food you are refusing to eat...."
Here I stand today.... On an island in the middle of a floating village in rural Cambodia... Being the 'patron saint of ice cream...'
I have dreamt of visiting Angkor Wat since I was in high school and seen black and white photos that one of my photographer friends brought back from his travels.
But by now, I am feeling 'all templed out'.
I need to sit and meditate, with closed eyes... in a quiet temple....
I decided to go see a remote 'floating village'.
A leisurely boat ride down a river filled with blooming Lilli flowers..... to visit a picturesque floating village.....on a large lake...... It sounded so exotic to me... (there is another floating village close to Siem Reap which is NOT worth a visit, since it is mostly a tourist attraction.
If you do plan to visit, write down the name of the floating village I mentioned below, you will not regret seeing it.)
The floating village of Kompong Khleung, on Tonle Sap lake, is located about an hours and a half drive from Siem Reap.
You drive through small villages where people make an extra living, weaving baskets,or selling sticky rice, cooked inside bamboo stalks, over burning coals.
"The countryside is very poor", says Chen, our guide.
But I do not see poverty or desperation.
In fact, I see people living lives the way it was before the invention of money and our illusory belief in it, and our silly addiction to it.
To me, the countryside is beautiful.
Large stretches of rice fields, mango, banana, papaya and bread fruit trees dot the landscape.
Houses are made simply but with their own Eco naturalness and functionality that befits the weather here and makes them charming.
They are built on tall stilts, to protect the inhabitants from rodents, snakes and flooding.
The coolest place, is under the house.
This is where they tie their hammocks or have an elevated bed on which to sit, cook, and spend away the hot hours of the day.
Houses are built from wood or bamboo and they have only one large communal room.
Usually the steps on the stairs, leading to the entranceway, are done in odd numbers, which are considered very lucky.
The walls are wooden boards, or mats, woven from thin and long slices of bamboo.
A collection of large wooden boats were waiting for us by the river, to take us to the floating village by the lake.
The boat we took, was a former fishing boat, fitted with regular house wooden chairs.
The rudder used to stir this large clanky boat, was a contraption of ropes and a foot operated lever.... Plus..... the use of a large stick, which our limping captain used to push our boat away from getting dangerously close to other boats or houseboats, while simultaneously talking on his mobile phone.
I did not expect such a large floating village, nor did I expect the large monastery with wonderful mural paintings on the walls, and curious shy monks,..... and I DEFINITELY did not expect to become the 'patron saint of the Ice Cream'....
But life takes you places... And you got to go...
This floating village is the real thing... four thousand people live here.
Houses are built on stilts on both sides of the river, and people use boats to get anywhere.
Even very young children row boats alone.
Only in the dry season, do they touch the land.
Fishermen used to fish here with electricity, before it became illegal, as well as with dynamite.
To fish with electricity, they lowered an ancient electrical cord, connected to a generator and electrically shocked every fish around.
The dead fishl floated to the surface and were collected.
Now they fish with nets.
They collect their drinking water from the river or venture deeper into the lake, where the water is cleaner.
There is no sewer system in place.
People shower in the lake's water and toilets run strait into the same river.
The houses and boats are so picturesque, I click my camera like a mad woman.
There is so much beauty and artistic esthetics, in the ways the houses are painted, colorful laundry is flapping in the wind, the saffron robes of the monks and the kids jumping into the waters, their voices ring like tiny bells in my ears...... Boy, I love this world so much...
On an island we take a break to see the center of this floating village.
This is where they pray, study, have ceremonies, cremate their dead and celebrate holidays.
There is a colorful monastery on the island.
The monks wear saffron robes and they are smiling at us with warmth.
On the monastery grounds, old nuns and ladies are eating on the floor.
With their hands, they scoop up rice, and salads made from basil and lemon and cut veg.
They signal with their hands to me to come and eat with them, but I am not hungry and my natural fussiness around cleanliness, prevents me from accepting their warm hospitality.
I am not proud of myself... But I know that they use river water mixed with human excrements and I am not sure my system can filter it safely.... Nor do I want to find out....
Today, was a celebration and people had a festival in the center of the small island.
Some were selling cut fruit, other sold cooked and grilled food.
There were candy and drinks, roasted nuts and roasted frogs.
We are the only tourists on the island and naturally kids gather around us.
They pose for our cameras and observe us closely.
Their curious eyes follow us... How we move, dress, how we interact.
An extremely dusty looking boy approaches me.
He positions himself in front of my camera.
He is about twelve and he is wearing old dirty pajamas, with permanent stains and kitty cat prints.
It is an extremely hot day and my instincts tells me that he would love an ice cream.
A lady is selling ice creams out of a large red cooler right next to me.
I tell Chen that I want to buy the kid an ice cream.
(I really feel like doing so much more... Maybe adopting him, giving him a good scrub wash, a clean bed, a loving home, a new start in life.... But I know that he is not homeless, nor is he without parents..... he is just a kid from another part of the world...)
His eyes glisten when the lady opens up her cooler and takes out the plastic cup with the frozen treat.
As if manifested out of thin air, a dozen of other kids are standing around him, all with envy in their eyes...
They are looking at the lucky 'chosen' boy with wonder in their eyes... But they are not begging me... Justing looking with their sad eyes....
I decide that a bit of generosity can go a long way here... In making many kids happy.... and I decide to buy ice cream for the kids standing by.
There is a frenzy of excitement and the ice cream lady is blushing with joy...
She dutifully give each kid an ice cream cup and a straw.
Now, we are surrounded with many more dozens of kids, all looking at me with sad eyes, while curling their hair or skirts, looking pitiful... So I suggest another round of ice-cream...
The lady is surrounded with screaming kids,who wave their open hands asking to be noticed....The ice cream lady has her hat hanging sideways, her face flushed and hot, she is trying to calm the kids down... To have them form some kind of line.... She is unsuccessful....
I have created a situation here....
Now we have almost a hundred kids all trying to get a cold treat... Chen steps in to help the lady, but they both can hardly manage.
Jules step in as well, and the three of them do their best to try to distribute the ice cream to as many kids, making sure that some kids who already got an ice cream, do not come back for a second, before all kids get an ice cream.
Some kids collect their ice cream and come to me, curtsy, and say thanks, before they run of, to show their friends or mothers what they got... Pointing at me with big grateful eyes....
When I was a kid, my mother kept telling me again and again: "Eat your food, children in Cambodia are dying of hunger.... They wish they had the food you are refusing to eat...."
Here I stand today.... On an island in the middle of a floating village in rural Cambodia... Being the 'patron saint of ice cream...'
