Kampot

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Kampot is a small town on the Praek Tuek Chhu river just southeast of the Elephant Mountains and about three miles from the Gulf of Thailand. The town is known for salt fields, pepper plantations, and its French colonial architecture. We were looking forward to seeing more of the Cambodian countryside.

Cow near Cambodian People's Party building, Cambodia.
Cow near a Cambodian People’s Party building, Cambodia.

 

Phnom Penh to Kampot

It was supposed to be a three-hour bus ride, but it took five. Locals were headed to the coasts on this Chinese New Year weekend. Markets seemed to sprout up on the streets around us–either serving the traffic or causing the traffic as people in waiting cars got out to shop. People held their plastic bags high to squeeze between buses, cars, and motorcycles as they returned to their vehicles. Some cars going our way tried to avoid the market madness by passing on the other side of the road. But they stopped too, and then no one could get anywhere. Parking lot.

We were next to a car packed with eight people, including a granny with her neck stretching to catch a breeze, her bony little hand gripping the door as if to hold the window down. We saw monks walking through the market in saffron robes with yellow umbrellas and orange bags—barefoot. Barbershops under thatched roof huts. So many dirt roads cutting off from the main road, inward to the countryside. Loudspeakers of chanting around a temple or shrine. And the heat. Always the heat.

Orange robed Monks with yellow umbrellas making their rounds in Cambodia
Monks making their rounds in Cambodia.
Roadside barbershop in Cambodia
Roadside barbershop in Cambodia.

 

Kampot

At last, we arrived in Kampot, and made our way to Rikitikitavi. A beautiful small hotel filled with art and geckos, and made more beautiful by the bonhomie of the Cambodian staff—Celine, Thean, Romly, “Monkey” and Pat.

After dinner and after dark, when the temperature was more reasonable, we walked along the river. The old wooden bridge was lit up like Christmas. Kampot’s bars and restaurants were hopping with tourists and expats galore, plus night-roaming dogs, cats, and bats. We stopped for mojitos at Cuban bar called Camp Potes, run by Jean-Jacques—“just call me Jackie”—a Frenchman from Reunion. Shelves behind his bar were filled with jars of Jackie’s homemade flavored rums and the place was decorated like a Havana living room. Salsa music blared from a single speaker. Later, we walked to a small market a mile down the river where a movie played in the night sky and neon-lit carousel rides ran for kids.

Math lesson. Kampot, Cambodia.
Math lesson. Kampot, Cambodia.
Rice waiting. Kampot, Cambodia.
Rice waiting. Kampot, Cambodia.
High rise. Kampot, Cambodia.
High rise. Kampot, Cambodia.

 

Sorrow in Kampot

We ambled around the town sampling food and drinks, and browsing the shops and the clothes that hung on sidewalk racks (it finally dawned on us that these clothes are not for sale, but are laundry that’s been sent out.) One day, a crowded van drove by. The back doors were open and two live ducks hung upside down from the rear bumper, their beaks sometimes touching in the exhaust, the heat, the fear, the disorientation. My heart broke for them. And as I fell into sorrow, the yellow thread of the granny monk’s blessing caught on my camera and snapped.

The next morning, very early, we heard music. It reminded me of a popsicle truck, or one of those old jewelry boxes with the plastic ballerina, but with an asian twang. Was it from a temple or shrine? A 6 a.m. alarm? We asked Monkey. “It’s very sad music. For funeral.” That music played most of the day—coming and going in wafts like the smell of flowers. Soothing. LISTEN:  

Funeral music coming from across the river. Kampot Cambodia.

Yellow floating house on the Praek Tuek Chhu river Kampot Cambodia
Kampot’s floating houses on the Praek Tuek Chhu river, Cambodia.
The old white wood Entanou bridge over the river is for motorcycles and pedestrians only. Kampot Cambodia.
The old white wood Entanou bridge over the river is for motorcycles and pedestrians only. Kampot Cambodia.

 

As I fell off to sleep that night, I wondered…maybe when we die, a popsicle truck comes for us. And then I felt sad for Cambodian children in the USA who hear the popsicle truck tunes coming down their street. I dreamed of ducks flying overhead, and of ducklings running after an unseen mother across a red dirt road.

Crossing a railroad track in the Cambodian countryside near Kampot.
Crossing a railroad track in the Cambodian countryside near Kampot.
Looking across the Praek Tuek Chhu river at dusk. Kampot, Cambodia.
Looking across the Praek Tuek Chhu river at dusk. Kampot, Cambodia.

To read more about Cambodia: Siem Reap, Angkor Wat, Blessing Bracelets, Phnom Penh, and the Kampot Countryside (coming soon).

Select Cambodian photos for sale on Etsy.