My Chair is Under Water (Cambodia) - Battambang Province, Cambodia
Battambang Province, Cambodia
I am sitting on a plastic chair. The river water is covering my lap. Small fish and debris brush by my legs as the water rushes by. I am eating rice and other Asian food. There is a concrete ramp. One ramp for each tire, like is used to pull cars or tractors up on to work on. The highest part of the ramp is still above water. Our food is spread out on this part.
The next couple of weeks I spend on the back of the moto as Villa and Somnang ride me around Cambodia, looking at the flood waters. The flooding situation is even worse in Battambang than in Siem Reap. They tell me a dam broke in Thailand and the water is all coming to Cambodia.
The flooding is widespread. Many people have left their homes. Some stay in tents on a roadside on higher ground. Some go to stay with other friends or relatives that are not flooded out. Many sit on little bamboo platforms built on stilts above the water level, but cannot stay in their small homes because they are flooded. It's very sad for these people that are so poor to begin with.
Dam's in Cambodia have broken, increasing the flood problem in the countryside and the city. Some people have drowned as a result of the breaking dams.
The streets in the city around my hotel are flooded. Most places haven't had water enter the businesses, but the water is over the streets, up to the curb.
The food stands and street markets that normally fill the streets are gone, there is just water covering the streets. The street food stands that people get their meals from cannot operate. The sellers, as they call them, are not making money and people are searching for food.
Villa, Somang, and I, spend a couple of days riding through the countryside. Villa is concerned about his relatives and wants to find out if they are okay. They live outside the city, throughout the countryside, miles from the city. Riding the small moto through the flood water is slow and it takes us two days to check on his relatives.
We find one group of several of his aunts and uncles and their families gathered together on a raised platform, waiting to be picked up in a large truck sent by the government to move them to higher ground. They have been waiting several days.
We travel to where another of his relatives lives. The area is high flood waters. We cannot eee the house from the road, so Villa and Somnang wade through the deep water to find the house and check on the relatives. They come back after awhile and tell me there is a note on the door that the family has been moved. At least now he knows they are safe.
After a few days, Villa is satisfied all his family is safe, and they start to take me on sightseeing trips. One day we ride the moto through the flood waters to visit a classmate of Villa and Somnang. It is in a small village maybe 20 miles from town. They are all in university together.
Her house is in the flood water, but it is built on poles and the water is not inside. A lot of people are not so lucky. Many people have lost what little they had because of the flood. Not only homes that washed away, but many lost livestock and personal items.
The girl and her family sit outside on the bamboo platform, where the flood waters are rushing by. All the schools are closed because they are flooded. The dam nearby has broken.
People are swimming and riding big tractor tubes in the water as it rushes by the homes and over the streets. The water is moving fast enough to make tubing fun here. I take a few turns in the tubes myself. The guys push me and the water carries me away, to the other side of the road and down between some houses. All the local people watch the foreigner with the sunglasses on, floating down their village. (Cambodians do not wear sunglasses).
The water over the streets is deep enough to ride the tubes in, but the girl tells us if we want to swim, it is deep enough under her house.
We stopped on the roadside and bought rice and other food on the way here today. They had rats for sale, and the guys wanted to get that for lunch. I told them I ate some the last time I was here and just buy enough for themselves, I would eat other things.
When it's time for lunch, we spread the food out on a concrete ramp the family uses to pull their tractor on. The ramp is a few feet high and part of it is still above the swift moving river water.
The girl wades through the water and brings me a plastic chair to sit on while I eat. It's amazing how these people always go out of their way to do the best for me with what little they have. I have been sitting on the ramp, dangling my legs in the water, and I could eat like that, but she wants me to have a chair.
The water just covers my lap. The river water from the broken dam rushes by my legs, sometimes bringing debris and lots of small fish. I can't remember the last time I ate like this. The other guys sit on the concrete raft, dangling their legs while they eat.
The people take advange of the flood waters anyway they can. Whether it's having fun or finding food. They have nets to sane fish with. They are casting them in the flooded roads and yards. The fish are being washed in from the river.
In some spots they are looking for very small fish. They tell me these are mashed and used with spices for some fish sauces. Others are casting nets for a little larger fish (still small). These larger size are used to grill whole and eat.
The men and boys do the fishing with the nets and the women clean them at home. Later one day, while at Villa's brother's house, I watched his sister-in-law scaling and cutting the guts off the very small fish that would be used to make sauce. Their 13 year old son had done the fishing. I ask the guys where the big fish are. They tell me, "Big fish in river". These are the experiences I get to have by having local friends that other foreign visitors miss.
We went to see where the dam broke, a few weeks later. All the small houses there were gone and the land was washed away. Many people will have to rebuild their lives.
A week or so later, once the water had gone down enough to get equipment through to where the people were, Villa and Somnang and other college students start hauling rice to the countryside to give to people made homeless by the flood. I give a donation to help buy rice for the flood victims.
One day Somnang asked me if I would go with him to see how his brother was doing. It would be a trip on the moto of about 100 miles. I agreed and away we went.
The first part of the trip was uneventful, but that changed about half way. As is common in Cambodia, we turned off pavement onto dirt. For the next 40 miles or so, Somnang manuvered his moto, with me on the back, through ruts and washes and gulleys.
There was not much to call a road. In many places the mud was so deep, I would get off and Somnang would walk the moto through, the mud was too deep for the moto to take us through. Several times the moto, while riding through inches of mud, slipped. It would have been on it's side if Somnang had not caught it. When we weren't riding in muddy ruts or through water, the road so rough it was hard for me to stay seated. I would bounce off the seat as he tried to get enough speed to keep the moto moving upright. I held on and bounced a lot. A little ways of this might have been fun, but this was just plain work! It went for miles and miles.
We arrived at the brother's house and, while there, Somnang started climbing a tree. I thought he was just climbing. I hardly ever know what is going on. Everyone talks in Cambodian and I am always in the dark. He and his brother and a woman that had walked up had been talking. I assumed they were just saying their hellos.
But, then some more people showed up and he started shaking the tree. Small, round, green fruit fell to the ground. They had me taste one. I didn't like it. Nevertheless, I helped them pick the fruit from the ground until we filled a few bags.
Later, we walked down the small road to a little hut. They sold small items, snacks and little things, including cold drinks.
Rice was served as we sat on the bamboo mat. These people were not related to Somnang, but we ate and I told Somnang I wanted to pay for the lunch. He said we would not pay. So, nobody paid for the food. I think Cambodians just share food on a regular bases, without thinking about it.
When we were leaving they asked Somnang if I had a camera to take a picture of their baby. We pulled the camera from the backpack, and they were so excited to have several photos of the baby taken. I played the reviews back for them to see and they were ecstatic.
I dreaded the many miles of road back into town through the mud puddles. I knew before it was over, one or both of us would be in the mud.