Dolphins, bugs, and island parties

On our first afternoon in Koh Pdao, after our second (sic) nap of the day, we went on a quest for the endangered Irrawaddy dolphins. Only about 70 of these creatures remain in the Mekong, due to improper fishing habits, environmental pollution, and upstream dams. I had low expectations of spotting any, given the dolphin to river ratio, but much to my delight, we saw many of the flat-faced dolphins playing in the currents. We sat quietly in our tiny boats, watching for the mysterious creatures. Cambodian legend reveres these animals: It is said that a beautiful young girl was swallowed whole by a snake. Her father found the snake and cut it open, and when she emerged from its belly, the girl was so ashamed that she put a bowl over her face and threw herself into the Mekong. Perhaps something is lost in translation, but as we learned at the crocodile temple, many a Khmer folktale involve large predatory animals eating daughters, being cut open and bringing shame to she who was eaten. Why the shame? I haven't figured that out yet.

If the dolphin is endangered and rarely seen, the night fly and mosquito are in overpopulation and are the only thing you can see at night on the island. Back at the school, the village had brought out the mega amplifiers to kick out the jams Khmer-style in celebration of our journey from around the world to Koh Pdao. The setting would have been perfect if not for the clouds of bugs. Around the generator-fueled lights, awesome swarms of small winged buzzies hummed along to the music. Unpleasant as it was, even getting constantly pelted with insects couldn't stop a great evening (I won't tell you what happened when I blew my nose the next morning...). I can be a bit of a wall flower at dance events, but this time, I took the advice of ABBA and became my inner dancing queen. I let loose with the kids and volunteers, allowing the exotic music to entrance me. Pheap did her best to teach me the beautiful Khmer classical dance with the intricate hand movements, but I struggled with the coordination of it all. Regardless of my dance (in)abilities, I joined the line of Khmer women and made the circular track to song after song, batting the bugs out of my eyes.

Khmer-style and a durian tangent

Breakfast in Kratie Town was two of the most pleasant hours I've had in Cambodia. I nabbed a bamboo-wrapped roasted sticky rice for a little over 60 cents and crossed the the street to peel out the delicious mixture while overlooking the Mekong. Rice, beans and coconut milk make nearly the ideal breakfast food as the combination is sweet, but not-too-sweet, and appropriately filling. Satisfied and thirsty, I also decided that such a magnificent morning deserved an iced coffee. A little overwhelmed by the market, I enlisted the help of the cheekiest of CWF staff members. Soon, I was holding a tiny plastic bag full of ice, sugar and espresso. Yes, a bag with a straw—that's to-go Khmer style (pronounced “Ka-MY Style”).

It seems (and appropriately so) that everything in Cambodia is Khmer style. The mini-bus ride from Kratie to the boats at Sambo District was certainly Khmer style. Though lacking the roof-riders of traditional Khmer transport, we were packed like Khmers, fitting five large butts where normally three sit—thank goodness for a/c. The roads were true to Khmer style as we bounced, swerved and honked our way through the 45-minute journey. The ever-blasting Khmer radio hypnotized us into a new state of mind where things that seem essential at home suddenly aren't, and where the broken wall clocks reflect the easy pace of life.

Our meals in the village were served, how else, Khmer style. On the floor of the home, two parallel lines of place settings—enough to serve nearly 20. Several vats of rice, a few bowls of fish soups, stir-fry, and fried bananas (mmm!!) were ready to fill our hungry bellies. In the intense heat (upwards of 38 C or 100 F) of Cambodia, one trick is to douse the food with chilies to force your body to cool off. Even though it's a bit torturous going down, a few minutes later, the cooling effect is wonderful. The meals were excellent considering the circumstances, and the rest/nap periods on either side of the meal were much needed. If you have never experienced Cambodian heat, it's something to behold. Every day, it's the hottest summer day you can remember, plus humidity and no air-conditioned retreat. The knees of my cargo pants had white marks from the all the salt I had sweated out. Normally, I would have been very turned off by the intense climate, but the weather is an integral part of life here. The people move at a slower pace, they take life one nap at a time, because it's just too hot. In the words of another volunteer as he shut his eyes for a nap, “Now I know why it takes three months to dig a hole...”

During the absolute hottest part of the day, we visited the island school. I thought of my brother as we crossed the dusty school yard to the classrooms. We added our monstrous shoes to the pile of teeny flip flops before we filed into the sauna-esque classroom. Each volunteer had contributed a few dollars to buy school supplies for the kids, so after the children sang welcome songs, we gathered them outside to present them with a notebook and pencil each. What a great feeling to see so many children smiling and enjoying a new notebook. I was starting to understand the importance of my work at CWF, and the impact that even a small amount of time or money can have on someone's life. I have taken education for granted for so long that I have a hard time unpacking the idea that not all children go to school, and that schools are not the same everywhere. Time to wake up and smell the durian Jena.

Okay, durian tangent—It is only food too strong for wacky food expert Andrew Zimmern of the Travel Channel's Bizarre Foods. The durian is a soft fleshy Asian fruit renowned for its revolting odor. It took me nearly two months to realize that the durian was the main culprit of the nauseating stench at all markets. Many believe it to be an aphrodisiac, but after having several unfortunate spoonfuls in my dessert in Kratie, the only thing I wanted to do was brush my teeth and avoid ever, ever, ever eating it again.

Volunteers go to Kratie Province

Finally back in Phnom Penh, and after a good night's sleep, I can't wait to start writing about the week. My sweetened-to-within-an-inch-of-its-life cup of tea is at the ready as I review the photographs from Kratie province. The Conversations with Foreigners (CWF) volunteers made our pilgrimage to the Cambodian Rural Development Team's (CRDT) headquarters in Kratie Town and to the island village of Koh Pdao to see the projects that CWF helps fund. Our four-day trip included an orientation to CRDT and an overnight stay in the village to see the projects that CRDT has helped established.

CRDT was established in 2001 by four university students who believed in sustainable and environmentally-conscious ways of improving the lives of rural Cambodians. Now a successful and well-known NGO, CRDT has helped over 3,000 families in Northeastern Cambodia. Like all NGO's, CRDT needs a source of funding, and that's where CWF comes in. The Conversations with Foreigners school was created as a way to fund the projects and to provide a unique and cost-effective place for foreigners to volunteer. Students pay $40 per 10 week session to study with a foreign teacher. After the base costs of payroll and school maintenance are fulfilled, all remaining profit is given directly to CRDT. The students who pay tuition to CWF are typically from provincial areas; so in addition to the cheaper price, the incentive to support their own communities influences many students' decisions to study with CWF.

Like the Sustainable Tourism book on our table says, this trip is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see how the majority of Cambodia lives.

For more information about the CRDT follow this link: http://www.crdt.org.kh/