In the Cambodian Countryside

Most of our daytime hours in Kampot were spent with Chuck, a remork driver and guide we hired to take us to the salt fields, pepper plantations, and to see regular life around the Cambodian countryside. We rode through a fishing village. Small wooden houses sat very close to the road, reminding me of old main roads curving through little towns all over the rural U.S. The similarities stopped there. These little houses of unpainted wood sat high on stilts. Under the stilted houses, families gathered on platforms that looked like bed frames–eating and working all together, sorting beans, sewing, and talking. Hammocks swayed nearby, shoes lined up by the doorsteps. Chok told us this was a Muslim fishing village that speaks Cambodian/Khmer, while Muslims in Phnom Penh speak Arabic. 

Pepper Plantations and Salt Flats

Chuck took us to a pepper plantation, where acres of peppercorn plants grow around rows of brick pillars and wooden poles. Black, white, and red pepper are all grown from all the same plant. Fresh peppercorns were drying in the sun, and we sampled each variety, biting into one little peppercorn at a time. Sharp kicks to the tastebuds, followed by a little coughing, and a lot of water. We also saw acres and acres of salt flats. Sea water is flooded into the fields and then blocked. And then they wait. Evaporation leaves behind salt, which is gathered, treated with iodine, packaged and distributed in Cambodia.

Palm Oil

Later I noticed an ant of a man climbing palm trees. Chuck stopped and told us the man was collecting palm oil. Ladder-like rungs were nailed into the trees for ease of climbing, and bamboo-shaped plastic buckets hung in bunches with the foaming oil. We passed thatched roof barbershops, kids on bikes coming home for lunch, workers in the fields, attentive and angular cows, chickens with baby peeps on their heels, railroad tracks, red dirt roads, potholes, puppies, the bluest blue bird, and loads of little kids who beamed big smiles from doorways, waving and shouting “hello!” Life is so hard, and yet they smile.

Raindrops in Cambodia

As we rode around in that remork, seeing so much, I had this feeling that time is wasting and going by too fast. There’s never long enough time to stop, to linger.

It pounded rain overnight, on our last night in Cambodia. We were in Siem Reap again, and we’d spent the hour before bed repacking and preparing for the trip to India tomorrow. It was long after midnight and I was restless, unable to sleep as I listened to the rain.

I stepped barefoot out onto our covered patio. The rain was furious, giant drops, straight down, and as solid as a wall. It smelled fresh and wild, mingled with the scent of the oil from the still-burning bug candle near the door. I curled up in the wicker chair, to watch the rain.

We’re always moving on. Or maybe it’s really just waiting to move on, to start over on life number two, or life number 2,000. What would it feel like to recognize that I’d just been reborn as a merit bird in Cambodia—destined to be caught and released, again and again and again? Or maybe I’ll come back as a color—like the orange of a monk’s robe. Or maybe I’ll be recycled as a degree of humidity, or a particle of red dirt. Or maybe a single raindrop in a monsoon. 

You can read more about our time in Cambodia at these links: Siem Reap, Angkor Wat, Blessing Bracelets, Phnom Penh, and Kampot.

Some of my photos from Cambodia are for sale on Etsy.

Have you been to Cambodia? What was your favorite place and moment? Please comment and share. Thank you for looking!