Yesterday we boarded a boat docked on the Tonle Sap river at Kampong Chhnang. We unpacked and settled in, had dinner, and met some nice people. When we woke up the next morning, we were at a place called Angkor Ban Village.
After everyone had gone to sleep that night, the ship’s crew must have been busy. During the night, we had set sail, heading toward the junction of the Tonle Sap and Mekong rivers. We’re on the Mekong river now, at our first destination: Angkor Ban.
The Khmer Rouge destroyed most Cambodian villages during their 4-year reign of terror. Everything Cambodians grew up with, knew about, or believed in had to go. Erase the board completely and start fresh. That was the ideal implementation of communism, at least for the Khmer Rouge. Angkor Ban Village exists only because they used it as a supply depot.
Inside Angkor Ban Village
A local guide took a group of us through the village. We started at a Buddhist compound – the hub of the village. A few monks in saffron robes passed by. Kids played outside. A black and white dog came over to check us out.
The dog lives at the compound because he has a white spot. If he had been solid black, he’d be somebody’s pet, but since he’s not 100% one color, he’s considered bad luck. His owners gave him up. Buddhist priests take in all animals, bad luck or not.
Houses here are built on stilts like those along the banks of Lake Tonle Sap. One lady invited us to come into her home and look around. Everything was dark wood inside. Nice. Skinny floorboards had space in between them to let air circulate through, cooling the house.
These days, river cruisers stop to tour the village. We weren’t the first visitors to get the tour, but it didn’t look like much in the way of special preparations had been made. The interior of the house was austere, but pleasant.
Gotta have cow, man!
Villagers here measure wealth not in terms of land or financial savings, but in terms of cows. Each family owns or has access to a cow. Cows pull plows through wet fields, making farming here possible. No cow, no income.
We walked past a house where five or six cows stood under the living quarters, munching hay. The richest man in the village owns this house. Underneath, he runs the village “cow bank.” If a family doesn’t own their own cow, they lease one from the cow bank.
In this part of the world, cows are highly valued. Very highly valued. When a cow has a calf, that’s money. So the richest man in the village – the one with all those cows – just keeps getting richer. Hmmm… that sounds familiar.
There’s also money to be made raising crickets for sale. One of the buildings in the village houses the cricket-growing operation. Cambodians like their crickets deep-fried and seasoned with chili oil, salt, and garlic – the perfect go-with for an ice-cold Anchor beer, or so they say. I forgot to try ‘em.
To be continued…
