Tuesday 24 March 2009

Hello from Cambodia 18

While England was experiencing its worst “snow event” for 20 years Cambodia was having its own severe weather problem –MORE DUST. During the rainy season the roads in Phnom Preuk had been washed away and serious maintenance was needed. Big bulldozers scraped off the deeply rutted surface and replaced it with loose soil which was then patted down. Unfortunately at this time of year convoys of huge juggernauts laden with rice trundle their way to the Thai border and within a week the road surface had completely broken up again and the result was dust.
As fast as the lovely Touch swept it up, it sneaked back in under the door and settled on every surface. People took on an orange “Tangoed” look and a clean shirt lasted less than an hour. Wearing sunglasses while on the moto left you with “panda eyes” and the state of nostrils and ears does not bear thinking about. When the swirling dust caught the sun it gave the effect of a mild snow blizzard. Children happily played in the drifts of the stuff although we did not see them building a “dustman” or throwing “dust balls”.

In these conditions driving becomes hazardous. Driving a moto through drifts a foot deep is far more difficult than negotiating mud as the wheels have nothing to grip and as all noise is muffled there is no warning of oncoming traffic. Fortunately we have escaped with no more than a low speed tumble and a few scrapes and grazes. Thankfully now the “mango rains” have arrived to dampen things down and turn the countryside green again.


The wedding season is with us once more but annoyingly, despite several invitations, due to prior engagements, we have been unable to attend one yet. We were however invited to the Deputy Governor’s mother’s 5 year funeral. Traditionally the previously buried body is exhumed, the bones are cleaned up a bit and burnt, the remains are interred in a Stupor and everyone has a bit of a party to celebrate.
Also a local headmaster asked us to his son’s “baby warming”; it’s a bit like a christening but with no baby. All these ceremonies seem to involve the same ritual. Turn up 2 hours late, hand over $10, sit at a table with 8 people you don’t know, endure extremely loud music being blasted from a stack of speakers just by your ear, eat and drink as much as you can, then leave.


At one of these do’s we were told about what the district was like over 15 years ago before it was settled by the returning refugees from the camps over the Thai border. Apparently you couldn’t see the sky for the leaf canopy and the trees were too wide to hug. One specimen was so huge that when they cut it down they “put it in a tree museum” in Thailand. (Did they “change the people a dollar and a half just to see ‘em?” -- Joni Mitchell). Hearing this, then looking at the acres of deforestation that surrounds us, can be very depressing.

We have however discovered that there is an abundance of quite dramatic wildlife living quite near us. We were taken to visit the local crocodile farm. About 30 large ponds are home to thousands of these reptiles which range in size from tiny newly hatched croclets to 8 foot monsters. Rather worryingly we were told that when there is very heavy rain the ponds overflow and a few crocs nip into the nearby stream. This is another reason, apart from unexploded mines, not to go for a Sunday afternoon stroll through the countryside. The farmer invited us into his kitchen to see his pets. Three very large tigers and a rather miserable black bear were sauntering around behind some very insubstantial bars. Hummmm.

Work is chugging along, although we do feel there is more enthusiasm and confidence amongst the teachers we have been working with and the lessons we observe show more evidence of child centered teaching and less learning by rote. We are still however sometimes shocked by what we see. A headmaster offered to show us a new school that had been built by a village in “the forest”. He roared off on his moto down a muddy track, his 4 year old daughter casually sitting in front of him. We followed trying to keep up with Chris riding pillion, hanging on for dear life, her eyes tightly shut. After 40 minutes off-roading, including descending a mountain down a very steep stream gully, we reached the village. They were very proud of their home made school even though it only had 1 wall and a tin roof but the level of commitment we observed by the untrained teacher was really inspiring. (Sorry the camera battery went flat so no pics).

The VSO volunteer who works with the teacher training college in Battambang brought some of her teacher trainers out to Phnom Preuk to show them what it was like for newly qualified teachers out in the sticks. They were appalled not only by the state of some of the schools, one class room still had a cow in it, but also by the conditions in which some of the new teachers lived. One poor pregnant lady teacher has to make do with little more than a wooden box by the side of the road. The teacher trainers returned to Battambang full of horror stories but we doubt it will result in much change.
The annual VSO Education conference took place in Phnom Penh which was a good excuse to visit the big city. This year the theme was developing creativity in teaching, something that is sadly lacking in the Cambodian education system. The highlight was the “creative free expression” afternoon. The sight of Onno dressed as a Cambodian fairy tale princess, the Khmer assistants discovering poster paints and everyone dancing to the theme from Austin Powers will be remembered forever.



Cambodia hasabout 29 public holidays and they were deeply shocked to dicover that we have only 8, perhaps not everything is better in England. They are still happy to take advantage of everyone else's celebrations. Valentine's day is a big deal here as is Chinese New Year. This is a really jolly and colourful festival when families get together to eat, dress up and burn money (only the Pretend stuff.)

Of course we have made our inevitab le return to Koh Chang for a spot of R and R. Onno had persuaded Jon that he would “really love” diving and it was certainly an experience not to have missed. The coral reefs are like beautiful underwater gardens inhabited by electric blue sea anemones and shoals of rainbow coloured fish. Jon, however, decided that once was probably enough and in future he would look for his thrills on dry land, viz a ski slope.

The advent of the home made oven has resulted in more culinary experimentation. Steak and kidney pie, Cornish pasties and Yorkshire puddings have all proved to be amazingly successful as was the banana and peanut cake. The only problem is that, although this is a welcome change from stir fried veg and rice; we are piling on the pounds.
A traditional Khmer delicacy is Prahok, otherwise known as Cambodian cheese. It is a grey sludge made of fermented fish. We visited a prahok "factory" just out side Battambang and as you can imagine the smell was indescribable. Jon will vouch for the fact that, when cooked in the traditional Khmer way, it is delicious.

We were delighted to receive more Parmiterian visitors in the shape of Dave Rapson, Tom Pegram, Matt Pollard and James Ovens with his Canadian cousin Ed. They had deviated from their world tour to pop in and see us on their way to Thailand and we had a very jolly evening reminiscing about Parmiter’s (Strange how after a few beers and several thousand miles it seems a much better place now we have all left). Bizarrely, to date, nine ex-students from the same school in a small town in SE England have all visited this even smaller town in remote, rural NW Cambodia. Should Phnom Preuk twin with Garston?


Jon had a very pleasant evening when he went to meet Marilyn and John Gerry who were visiting the temples of Ankor Wat. The only down side to this was that on his return from Siem Reap he had to share a 5 seater Toyota Camry taxi with 12 other people. Cosy!

As the Khmer New Year approaches and the temperature rises we are thinking that it is time to take another little trip – but where? Thailand, Laos, Malaysia, Vietnam…… so much choice – poor old us!

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