Sython 'surprised' us with some snacks. Deep fried cricket and tarantula. I had a cricket and a leg of the tarantula. Devoured a bag of lychees afterward! Herman and Ella are quite loud and opinionated but are kind and entertaining. Hala is nice too though I do wish she would stop egging Sython on in feeding us 'duck foetus' and 'climbing mountains' ( 'phnom' means 'mountain' and seems to hold quite a lot of significance generally for the Cambodians, probably because they have so few, so actually this means walking up a large hill, not rock climbing).
After about a 3 hour trip we arrived at 'Trapang Veng' or 'Bamboo Lawn Village'. This turned out to be Sython's family village! His family name is 'Sun'.
The village is lovely. Almost all the provincial roads are red compacted earth and the fiields that are not paddies are like ours in Berks, much more so than in say, Greece, so it's strangely similar to Devon sometimes, except when it rains. The roads deteriorate then!
We walked along for about 200m and into the yard of a wooden stilt house with tiled roof. There was a dog, Sython chased it off with a thrown stone, which it seemed used to. It had corgi blood somewhere in its line. We met Sythons mother and sister in law. This was to be home for one night. They were preparing lunch over two small separate open fire stoves, as we were a bit late. Lunch is usually around 11am in the countryside. We also met the children who were not at school. I did not learn their names properly I'm afraid but the entire village is Sython's family ( he has 6 brothers and sisters) so the two youngest, boys, were I think his sisters children from the first house at the end of the lane, where she runs a small stall. The older girls who we met later were daughters of other brothers who lived in the village still.
The stilt house had a large square wooden table, solid polished with use, between the stilt bases in the centre of the yard. Unusually the house had a 'back' on the lower level, concrete, that creates one room, a spare apparently unused space and the WC / Shower which was put in 5 years ago. This is a well off household, it is actually Sython's elder brothers house, though I think Sython funded this and it's tile roof. Other roofs and wall are palm leaf or corrugated iron. A lot of stilt houses still have nothing but stilts underneath, or a wicker screen.
Lunch was a lot of food! Steamed rice, of course, fish soup, "eggplant" and cucumber, fried veges and pork , watermelon. The youngest boys devoured Sython's crickets. We ate cross legged on the table. You are supposed to eat with one leg up, but that tradition is slipping a little as even Sython eats cross legged and he later made a joke about not telling people he did that in his parents house!
We were then able to go for a walk, having been shown upstairs briefly. Sython was trying to arrange a rice paddie for us and went off on a motorbike. We were warned to frighten the dogs away. Every house has at least one dog on duty and they often have village pack stand offs. If they do not bark at strangers they are usually killed, however they are part of the family, the Cambodians are much more affectionate to their animals than the Vietnamese. There was also a family cat that Sython was obviously fond of, that had just recently had two kittens. Like many cats I've seen here it has a roughly docked tail. Most dogs here have curled tails.
We had a lovely hot walk waving at all the locals and calling "suasedai" at them. Apparently when they saw us they knew it was Sython who had brought us here!
Sython is the only one of his family to attend university ( which is key ). He often did not have enough to eat during his studies and his sister with the small stall supported him during that time. His mum still does not know!
We passed a primary school in a stilt house that was just breaking up for the day. When we got back Sython took us out for a walk around his fields.
As we walked through the incredibly lush green of the paddies of the 'American bomb field' out back, Sython told us stories about everything from the American bomb, which fell and exploded in this field, leaving a crater still visible in Sython's childhood; to the bazookas and AK47's which were common in every house until an arms amnesty in the late 90's. Land mines also are occasionally still 'found'. We even heard about local sanitation. Prior to drainage being put in, the family had used an area beside a tree. They had not buried it and Sython recalled the flies were appalling. (Presumably also the smell ofth whole village!). They used it on the fields but I wonder still why they never thought to dig a hole?
We also heard about the floods of two years ago which completely cut the area off and meant they travelled about in boats. They lasted about two weeks before the water receded. Sython and a friend went out to a nearby isolated patch of high ground and discovered it was teeming with snakes. Which they then killed and roasted.
He also mentioned his grandfathers death from starvation during the Khmer Rouge. Hala, fearlessly I thought at the time, asked if he would ask his mother and father to tell us stories of the Khmer Rouge period. I realise now that Cambodians are generally very willing to talk about those times. (A little knowledge is a dangerous thing - sometimes I find myself wondering if they are proud of it).
We returned to the house examining various plants and a dead snake. Sython's favourite brother in law (husband of the sister with a stall), who was actually exceedingly nice, had found us a group of villagers who were planting rice today, so we piled into the back of his truck and were off to create food!
We planted rice for at least an hour. The clay was warm and soothing between my toes, the sun hot and very bright the way in that way it can shine before a storm. The villagers thought we were joking at first when Sython asked if we could help. Took them a while to get over the joke but it sure broke the ice, no communication problems here, despite the lack of a single word of English! Sython mentioned later that the grandmother in charge had asked him who he was and he had mentioned his mother and she had known him through her. I tried very hard to plant my rice upright though planting in the gully left by your feet as you move backwards is quite hard. Also this field, we learned, had been flooded from irrigation channels, not rain as they would hope for this time of year, so the ground was harder. I also did not plant fast enough.
I watched Sython take a practiced turn, thinking 'every child in Cambodia knows how to do this, no matter what they go on to do'. The older women would hand you more to plant as you got through your fistful of plants. They would take a handful from the little 'stoops' propped up nearer the edge of the paddie and flick it against their other hand in a 'swish, swish' noise, before handing it on. You came to be aware of the noise! It was backbreaking and very hot work. I was very conscious of not falling over while wearing my bumbag of valuables. Fortunately my camera survived the mud too.
We finished up the paddie and thoroughly satisfied climbed out on the dyke to wash our feet in the irrigation ditch beside the cart. Grandmother paid off her work gang while grandpa arrived to hitch up the cart to the bull. We bade them 'orkun' and left for home. (We had a 'shower' when we got back, the daughter helped us and it was at this point I realised that the WC really was the family bathroom. I watched grandma and the young girl clean it out most carefully. There was even a spongy scrubby, in pretty lilac hue!).
Dinner was before sunset at Sython's parents house this time, sitting on the floor on a weaved mat, next to the table. There were a few plastic chairs here, which we leant against. I made the mistake of sitting on one of the pretty cushions that were handed out. They don't sit on them, they are for your back if you lie on the floor, I think they may be used as pillows, we had similar when we finally went to bed. The food was more of the same, lots of it, loads of rice and a number of flies. However the company was excellent. Sython's mother is a strong woman and it was she who regaled us with tales of her time under the Khmer Rouge. Dad had a cut on his leg which Herman gave him a tube of iodine for but he did not want to speak.
Mum had had two of her seven children at the time of the a Khmer Rouge. I think this family were lucky as they were already a farming clan so they were not made to relocate. Their tales mainly involved starvation of the incomers and how they would try to help them by giving them tips. She said one of the boys caught malaria at this time and she herself was quite ill at the beginning and at the end of the period, involving hospital trips. They managed extra food when all were eating rice porridge and she recalled a particular row with Dad over the fact that he would not chew his chicken bones quietly!
Dad had one tale of having to take an educated lady to his 'boss' at the local Khmer Rouge station. She asked the whole way what would happen to her and he had replied he did not know but suspected she would be killed.
After dinner they children arrived and we had a fantastic impromptu language lesson from the two young girls, who may have been 13 and 10 respectively. They spoke good English. I asked Sython if they would go to University, 'even the girls?' I checked; yes, they would all go, thanks primarily to Sython. I found out much later that High School costs about $12.50 a month, excluding rice, pens and uniforms. We learnt to count:
Mot - 1
Pee - 2
Baie - 3
Bowen - 4
Pram- 5
Pram-mot - 6
Pram-pee -7
Pram-baie - 8
Pram-Bowen - 9
Dop
All of the above are completely incorrectly spelled.
After the youngest children disappeared at sunset, we were invited to beer and snacks by Sython's brother, back at the house we would be sleeping at. We climbed up on the table to sit again and had 'Klang' beer (it means strong and there is a picture of an elephant on the can) and frogs of two sizes and various snails, with Sython, his oldest brother, sister and bother in law. I did not feel I needed to attempt snails again in my life but the obligation was still there for frog-on-a-stick, duty done forever there. It was great fun, the only time I have ever really appreciated beer. We went through the international rounds of 'cheers' including Scottish, which Sython already knew. " chol moy" is the Cambodian version and once it starts you have to drink and repeat it every time someone inthe group says it.
Finally, reeling, it was time for bed. Amazingly it was cooling. The stars were incredible and if I had had any energy left I would have watched them for a bit. As it was it was barely past 8pm when we all went to bed.
Bed was the wooden floor for me, on a fantastic woven sleeping mat that I was very taken with! Upstairs, via the actually quite uneven wooden steps and the not necessarily nailed in bannister (which the 10 year old daughter of the house was quite happy hurling herself up and down) was all wood. There was a double bed frame with slats and woven mats on the left of the door and a table in the right. Both used for sleeping. There was a hammock and one concerned off are apparently used for clothes storage, complete with mirror. There was a TV and a small wooden desk for homework. It was lovely, even despite the cobwebs absolutely everywhere. Brother, wife and daughter also slept on the floor near the 'dressing room'. I slept in the middle of the floor and had a fantastic view out the door. The noise of the cicadas was incredible. It was utterly beautiful and pitch black. No sound. Not that I heard much as I was out like a light.
The wife was up at 4 am the next morning and decided to chop up a coconut which woke everybody up. I went back to sleep quite happily.
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