A Cambodian village
While Singapore may have the best airport in the world, Siem Reap certainly has one of the prettiest ones I've seen. And they have a quaint assembly-line Immigration system that is rather amusing to watch; you give them your paperwork (passport, arrival form, photo and money) at one end and then watch the package make its way down the line until you get a stamped passport back at the other end. They don't actually ask any questions of tourists, much like Malaysia. Confusingly, nobody actually looked at the customs form we handed them and nobody even asked us for the health form we filled out.
We were all set to find a tuk tuk and take it to our hostel but I had evidently asked for an airport pickup because there was a guy with my name on a placard waiting for us. Pleasant surprise! He told us his name was Moon and he would be taking us to the hostel, which he did, giving us a chance to observe traffic in Siem Reap. It's a bit crazy, despite not being particularly congested, because people frequently drive the wrong way down the street but nobody seems to mind! On the other hand, their intersections are pretty impressive; they have a countdown for vehicles during both green and red lights plus a crossing guard and a traffic cop.
Our hostel was large and spacious and, although we had to go up two flights of stairs to reach our room, it had a fascinating view of a crocodile farm. The sole downside was that the bathroom had no separation between the shower and everything else so it took skill to avoid soaking our clothes while showering. Come to think of it, the bathroom I had while growing up was like that too...
We'd been thinking of taking a nap to make up for waking up at 3am but the hostel owner, Mr. Bun Kao, offered to show us a rice padi at no charge so we took him up on it since none of us had seen one before. After a substantial tuk-tuk ride, we ended up in a fairly secluded village and the driver brought us to his parents' home so we could meet a real Cambodian family. His mom is a schoolteacher and his sister was using a laptop to do her homework. It had a Japanese keyboard but she was writing in a Khmer typeface. She later told us that she was studying to be an acountant, although she had originally wanted to be a nurse but had to abandon that dream because nursing school was too expensive for her parents to afford as they had other children in university too. The family let us pet their oxen, one of whom was a very friendly calf that loved having his neck scratched.
During this time, our tuk-tuk driver's dad had been yoking a pair of oxen and when he finished he had us get on the cart and began heading toward the rice padi. Kim had a bit of an adventure getting onto the ox-cart because it took off before she was ready and then she had to chase after it. I think that ox-cart ride was her favourite part of the entire trip.
The rice padi was exceedingly bumpy because the soil had formed into hard clumps and we lacked pneumatic tyres, let alone shock absorbers. It was better than a wooden roller coaster. During the ride, our tuk-tuk driver explained to us that, unlike most people, his family kept a resovoir of water that allowed them to have 3 rice growing seasons instead of the tradional single season. He did admit, however, that the two irrigated by water from the reservoir did not produce rice that was anywhere near as good as that grown in the main season. He also told us that a day labourer typically earns $3 per day for harvesting. But apparently everybody owns land in Cambodia, although some people have more than others, so nobody goes hungry because they always have their own rice to fall back on. And people usually help each other harvest their padi fields as well.
As we rode along we spotted some birds fishing in the scant remnants of what had once been an enormous field of water but had now been reduced to a tine stream and some muddy patches. At one point, the ox-cart driver stopped in the middle of the stream and proceeded to splash water on the rumps of his oxen, who had recently become in need of such a wash. Kim, sitting right behind the oxen at the time, was treated to an experience that I am sure she wil treasure forever. I even got her a little bronze ox as a momento of the occasion.
On the way back from the rice padi, we stopped by another villager's place, where a bunch of people had gathered to hang out for the afternoon. They were drinking rice wine and were delighted when May and I agreed to try some. They also offered us pickled cucumbers, which May and Kim enjoyed, but I had to decline on account of my Invisalign, the purpose of which bewildered them. Some of them were salting snake-fish for future meals and let us watch the process. Overall, it was a lovely experience because they were no less curious about us than we were about them and nobody was trying to sell us anything.
One of the villagers was an English teacher and he was explaining to me why they grew little other than rice for sale. Apparently they grow a few fruits and veggies but only for substenance because the prices offered for them on the market are too low. But he also told me that when people want to <em>but</em> fruits or veggies from the market, they are quite expensive. Sounds like the traders are profiteering! Another interesting insight from this discussion was that, although only Cambodian nationals are allowed to own propery, Koreans have increasingly been buying up property by putting it in the name of a Cambodian girl whom they marry. At least it gives her leverage if they mistreat her because she's always the legal owner of the property.
Our driver's family had us over for lunch while some random dogs looked on. The food was not too spicy, except for one dish they called cheese, which is actually made out of fish. I asked whether they sold any white rice and was told that here was no market for it, probably because it doesn't keep well. After lunch I go a haircut at the village barber, who offered to give me a shave as well for just 5000 riels ($1.20). What he hadn't realized was that my hair is so stiff it required him to use a second razor blade halfway through the process!
So far we had discovered the locals used US dollars for most transactions but switched to Cambodian riels for smaller values instead of using US coins! When I used an ATM, I disovered that it only dispensed US dollars. I guess the locals don't use them!
