Rice and Rain

One benefit to cross-crossing the region by bus is the brief but telling glimpses into people's daily routines that we've gotten along the way. From my bus-based observations, two central things punctuate these routines during this time of year -- rice planting and rainfall, which themselves go hand in hand. During every ride through Viet Nam, Laos, and Cambodia, we see people out in the fields, hunched over to replant the small rice plants into larger paddies (they are first grown on a small plot, and then when sufficiently large/the timing is right, they are spread out), and then waiting for the rain to come. The rain starts and stops many things, both in the city and across the rural landscapes -- stops work in much of the city (barring those unaffected in office buildings), starts play in the mud and water for children, starts growing of the rice and other crops, brings traffic nearly to a halt (or at least slows it a great deal). In Cambodia especially the rains have come down in monsoonal sheets -- we looked on, sitting next to local shopkeepers and passersby also escaping the rain, all of us in awe of the sheer quantity, the power to destroy (roads, roofs), and of course to provide an abundance of rice, in all its different varieties.

Our trips through the countryside have also offered us glimpses of families and individuals partaking in other activities, ones I usually think of as those that happen alone or behind the walls of our homes. Around 5 pm, men, women and children begin to bathe (often separated by gender but still in groups) in a nearby river, pond or at a communal water pump -- men in their briefs, women more modestly covered in a sarong which they wear into the water. From the bus, they look to be having a great deal of fun, and our own solitary showers and baths, perhaps more luxurious, seem quite boring in comparison. Once clean, the cooking of dinner begins, a process also visible from the nearby road, and the families ready to sit down for their evening meal. Through I feel a bit like a voyeur, I relish this brief insight into the daily rhythms of these countries still unfamiliar to me.

Phnom Penh

We spent a wonderful two days in Cambodia's capital city, much of our energy focused on sampling what the different food stalls had on offer. For those of you that are reading exclusively for these kinds of details, highlights included a delicious and thick soup (coconut and maybe fish-based, but I hope just coconut), with all kinds of fresh veggies, bean sprouts, etc. mixed in and flavored with chili paste, vinegars, some sugar. Cambodia also featured a new noodle for us, about 3 in long and tapered at both ends, kind of like a big white worm and spectacular in soups and stir fries alike. Anyone seem something like this in the US?

We've also spent time learning a bit more about Cambodia's recent history, which I admit I knew very little about before coming here. There is much to wrap one's head around, but a visit to S-21, a prison, interrogation and torture center established by the Khmer Rouge (ruled the country from 1975-78), began to shed light on the horrors of that time period -- work camps, mass graves, forced separations of families, rooting out of intellectuals. I won't go into detail here as it does not seem the appropriate place, but one must ask how we let this happen again and again, across different countries, and how to stop if from happening again (our bearing witness to past atrocities and genocides not being enough). My limited understanding of this traumatic period also makes me wonder to what extent the actions, lives, decisions of Cambodians today should be understood and filtered through the events that took place during the Khmer Rouge's rule.

Sorry to end on such a serious note -- more (uplifting posts) from us soon.