After about an hour the boat enters a swampy river, past floating fishing villages. Bare shacks are made of sticks, laundry strung in lines between two submerged trees and required a boat to hang or collect the clothes. 
Cunning fish enclosures and nets have been devidsed for a community 100% dependent on the river.
Long, shallow boats allow locals to travel along the single, narrow lane of water open, manoeuvering between the trees and shrubs that grow out of the water. Branches grasped along the open sides of our boat, whipping against the supports that divided the seating area (hard bench seats along both sides) and the roof (and open space when the luggage was dumped and where those braving the hot sun lay, huddled in the middle to avoid being swept off by branches. Every once in a while we came upon another boat, so passing became an issue of great discussion. 
During high water, a faster boat plows through and causes mayhem, submerging local boats, snagging fishing lines and churning up the lake/river bed. The water is not so high, so we were on a slower boat that occasionally showed courtesy by slowing down (before submerging local boats, snagging fishing lines and churning up the lake/river bed). There were a few stops to pick up locals, and in each case the landing was haphazard and awkward. At one point, both speed and distance were misjudged and our boat hit the dock, bounced off, ran completely over a small boat (swamping it) and, after the engine was cut, slowly drifted towards a net fishing enclosure beside one home, stopping within inches and thus not quite destroying the family's food supply and possible livelihood. While the two boatmen looked in consternation, two 7 year old boys came to the rescue by rowing the passengers to the boat. Most entertaining. Slender, pure white storks, gangly cormorants, and crane like birds in a variety of black, grey and white were outdone by a kingfisher in glittering teal with yellow flashes and grey wings. The floating forest contained mauve morning glories and other vines that formed a sort of carpet between and below the twiggy shrubs and trees. The poverty of the floating houses was stark, and gradually lessened as the swampy part of the river became more solid, with houses built on stilts and then on solid ground. At that point one saw the odd cow or pig, but this is still a people reliant on fish, evidenced by the multitude of fishing lines held aloft by bobbing plastic water bottles, which our boat regularly ran over. And always children, yelling and waving with vigour, some showing off with a full body wiggle or a somersault dive.
To be fair, although the driver (I'm sorry - I can't bring myself to call him a pilot!) was positioned in the bow, his view was obscured by another 12 feet of boat rising in a curve upward. In particularly shallow or tricky waters, his accomplice stood on the bow and gestured with his hand to provide direction, which was followed, more or less.
To be fair, although the driver (I'm sorry - I can't bring myself to call him a pilot!) was positioned in the bow, his view was obscured by another 12 feet of boat rising in a curve upward. In particularly shallow or tricky waters, his accomplice stood on the bow and gestured with his hand to provide direction, which was followed, more or less.
The trip was scheduled to take 5 hours. It took 7, but we'd heard that in low water it can take as long as 12, so we got off lightly. We took bets on the timing and I won, guessing within 5 minutes (Martin was an hour more pessimistic). Thankfully we had stocked up with bread and nuts and bananas and dried ginger, as well as water of course, but we didn't drink too much as the loo on board was barely a single * on Martin's toilet scale., and teh boat was full to the brim with backpacks and local passenger's more eclectic booty that it was difficult to move.
We spent today wandering around the provincial, dusty town of Battambang, visiting wats, playing with the children of restaurant workers who just hang around bored otherwise and getting hydrated in preparation for the return boat journey back to Siem Reap (now we know which side to sit on to avoid the blazing midday sun). A lovely peaceful interlude.
2 comments:
Just when I had questions about where one goes to the loo on a 5-7 hour boat ride, Jenny fills in the details. I suppose there is also a lack of life jackets as well? Any trepidation about eating the fish that comes out of that water? Looks murky.
You make sure the fish is cooked very well!
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