Off the Beaten Path; My Cambodia Travel Log
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| Dekila Chungyalpa |
Dekila is the WWF US leader for the Greater Mekong Program. The Greater Mekong Program consists of three Global 200 ecoregions; the Mekong river, the Lower Mekong Dry Forests and the Greater Annamites and covers six countries; China, Myanmar, Laos, Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam. This ecoregion complex is one of WWF US's priorities due to the incredible endemic biodiversity found there; whether it is the Mekong Giant Catfish, the largest freshwater fish in the world, or the Douc Langur, possibly the most charismatic primate in the world.
Dekila is from Sikkim, a tiny northeastern state in India the size of Rhode Island which is squished between Nepal and Bhutan. Like every other person from the Himalayas, she is convinced that her homeland is the original Shangrila. Her family is Bhutia, of Tibetan origin and she speaks Sikkimese, the local language, as well as Tibetan, Hindi and Nepali fluently. She worked in the WWF Eastern Himalayas Program for five years prior to working on the Greater Mekong. Her areas of expertise include strategic conservation planning, community based conservation and sustainable livelihoods. Among her most prized skills is the ability to eat anything remotely edible.
Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8
Day 9 |
Day 10 |
Day 11 |
Day 12 | Day 14 and 15 | Last Day
Last Entry My Cambodia trip is almost over. Tomorrow, I fly out of Siem Reap to Bangkok and back to the United States. It's been a longer trip than I expected. It certainly consisted of more roads and road bumps than you can imagine. An incredible smorgasbord of foods including deep fried tarantulas and locusts with honey. Spine-chilling moments of being too close to nature with red ants all over my back and being lost in an unending sea of tall grass. But, I would take every bit of discomfort or delay for the opportunity to see a douc in the wild. Wouldn't you?  I hope you have enjoyed meeting the people and wildlife of Cambodia as much as I have. Many of the people we met are unforgettable, those who work for conservation and those who need our help to conserve their way of life. Wherever we work, WWF protects wildlife and local communities, bringing together all our resources at the local and global levels. The WWF Greater Mekong Program has presence in five countries: Cambodia, China, Laos, Thailand and Vietnam. It works on a wide range of issues and strategies, ranging across protected area management, sustainable forestry, landscape conservation, natural resource management, community based development, and the influencing of government and regional policies for sustainable development. The threats are many: large-scale infrastructure development, relentless wildlife trade, unsustainable timber trade, multi-scale mining and agricultural expansion. With your support, we are able to work with local communities and protect the wildlife of the Greater Mekong region and address the ever growing challenges that threaten the Mekong river from source to sea.
Day Fourteen and Fifteen: Angkor Wat and the Tonle Sap There is nothing more awe-inspiring than Angkor in sunrise. We walk in silence, marveling at the size of the temples and the weight of history that presses on us. I have been anticipating this moment since flying into Siem Reap yesterday. The Angkor temples, a World Heritage Site, were built during a long stretch between 9th and the 15th century and number over a thousand! Angkor Wat, the most awe-inspiring of them all, took over 30 years and shows showing an incredible display of Hindu and Khmer art.  The temples are incredibly diverse in style and condition. Some like Preah Khan have given way to the marauding forests. Some are giant serene faces that will remain imprinted in our memories. Some only have empty walls standing and nothing else. And some are over run by busloads of tourists. My favorite is the Bakheng, a small mountain temple honoring Siva, with flowers pushing through the stone, silent and tranquil in the afternoon light. The Angkor kings started out as Hindus and ended as Buddhists. Today, more than one Angkor temple is a living monastery for Theravada Buddhists. The bas reliefs capture life for all Khmers; the modest fisherman plying his nets,  the soldier fighting off attacking Cham, the general in charge of the troops, and the women waiting at home for their return. The reliefs also capture monkeys half hidden in the carved leaves, gigantic fish that seem to be smiling in the waves, elephants with men on them and elephants nestling their young in the wild, pouncing tigers and large koupreys, all part of the Khmer world over ten centuries ago. And, still they stand, an integral part of Cambodia's today. Nearby the Angkor temples is the Tonle Sap, the largest freshwater lake in Asia and the heart of Cambodia. It is easily distinguishable from space. The Tonle Sap is unique because every monsoon season, the Mekong river swells up so much that the waters flow back into the Tonle Sap river and force the lake to increase five times in size. Not surprisingly, the lake is very rich in biodiversity and fisheries. The water is an oily black when we get on the boat. It is hard to believe that this is only a lake; it spreads out as far as I can see. Our boat is heading for Prek Toal village, a fairly well off fishing community, where we will visit a local school attached to the Environment Research  Station of the Prek Toal Biosphere Reserve. We watch other boats glide by; some of them have regular cargo, carrying kerosene or rice from one end to the other. But others are actual shops, full of clothes or vegetables that go calling from houseboat to houseboat. There are water taxis, carrying children to school. There are water restaurants where the cook will quickly fry up something you point at in little kerosene stoves The people of the Tonle Sap live on the lake and I mean that literally. Everything is on the water; houses, entire villages, even schools; they all rest on floating rafts some of which are connected to the land by wooden planks. There are people here who will live out their entire lives, moving with the water, on this incredibly bountiful enormous lake. As we get close, some of the water ways are near impassable due to the overgrowth of water hyacinth. It is an invasive species in the rest of the world, quickly choking other plant life and destroying river ecologies. But here, the people have learned to harvest it for their use and also use it as a barrier against choppy water and strong tides. Keep in mind that the water can rise up to thirty feet in the monsoon season! And, yes - all of this is in danger. There are at least two hydropower dams built in southern China already, Manwan and Dachaoshan. Another, Xiaowan, is under construction. And many many more are planned.
Day Twelve: Heading back We are on our way out of Srepok. It is early enough that the jeeps still have to have their headlights on. I manage to doze through much of the bouncing as we rumble through the forest. Everyone is waiting for the roads to smooth out before attempting a conversation. Suddenly, I see something in the trees. There is a dark swinging shape and although dusky, I can make out the light yellow color of fur. I squeak out my excitement to Teak, "Gibbon, gibbon, a yellow cheeked crested gibbon!" It's a female (the males are black with white cheeks); with pale golden fur and a triangular black mohawk. We can just barely see the family further up in the tree. As far as I'm concerned, gibbons are the rock stars among primates. They are great singers. Males and females often sing in duets. The females have what is referred to as a "great call", a song of ascending staccato notes, whereas the males have several kinds of song or "coda". They are brachiators which mean that they swing their arms an entire 360 degrees as they suspend their weight and travel through the branches. How cool is that? The yellow cheeked gibbon territory ranges around 100 acres and unless threatened, they tend to stay in the same area. However, these gibbons are too close to the road and have obviously migrated from elsewhere probably due to disturbances and forest clearing caused by mining or logging.
Later in the day, we cross Snoul Wildlife Sanctuary and the Snoul town itself. The road beyond is bordered with rubber plantations. Unlike Srepok and Phnom Prich, Snoul Wildlife Sanctuary is mostly a sanctuary on paper alone. It is right next to a major timber processing facility. This does not bode well for the wildlife or indigenous communities in this landscape. Like the gibbons, they are being pressed further and further into an ever-shrinking forest refuge. The WWF Forest Trade Network works with businesses to gain commitment that their timber and paper supplies do not contribute to illegal logging or forest destruction. It is a market mechanism, using the purchasing power of forest product companies. At the same time, we work to improve the management of the production forests and encourage sustainable forestry on the ground. The consumer's voice is probably the strongest ally we have in helping us transform the timber industry. Chances are if you buy furniture in the United States, particularly outdoor furniture which is predominantly made from wood from Vietnam, you will have bought illegal wood that comes from the forests of the Mekong. What can you do to help? Simple, ask the retailer two questions: where does the wood come from and is it from an environmentally sustainable source? Just that helps plant a seed with stores, retailers, companies, moving them towards purchasing certified and sustainable wood.
Learn more about the Global Forest Trade Network
Day Eleven: Forest Dwellers
 Today, we travel by elephant. In the wet season, the forests are very dense, trails are hard to find and the undergrowth is too thick to walk through. I get to ride a young frisky female. Her mahout - the elephant driver and keeper - allows her to play in the water, and as we splash through little streams, she constantly uses her trunk to reach back towards him. The Phnong, a local indigenous group, live in small scattered forest villages that are often temporary. They rely heavily on slash-and-burn farming for dry rice cultivation and other plants and supplement this with hunting,  fishing and gathering wild foods. We meet with one of these groups that have settled in the area. The community is governed by a council of local elders and has a village headman. The headman wants to highlight the problem his people are facing; outside encroachers have been cutting down trees and are now mining in the area that they have traditionally been entitled to. Martin later confirms that at least 4 new mining concessions were recently granted in this area. This has so many potential adverse effects; from conflict with local communities to destruction of fish spawning habitat, and poisonous effluents that contain mercury and cyanide reaching people and fish species downstream. One of the most important strategies that WWF utilizes is the formal establishing of land tenure or land user rights for local communities. Not only will this give them more incentive to sustainably manage natural resources but it also protects them from various encroaching groups. This is a long term strategy. It will take time and lots of resources to expand to the rest of the landscape. While we work with the Phnong and other communities to set up these rights, WWF also aims to help local communities attain better standards of living. The ecotourism component of the Srepok Wilderness Area project must have a clear link between conservation, sustainable resource management, and community well being.  On our way back through the forests, we see a total of seven black shanked doucs, made up of two groups (one a young mother with a baby). Doucs are possibly the most beautiful primate in the world. Unlike the red-shanked doucs, the black-shanked doucs are black and grey, with a bluish white face and yellow around their eyes. They are arboreal, living in trees and spend at least half the day foraging for food. They are very social and live in groups with twice as many females than males in most groups. It is not uncommon to see them travel in single file through the forest, led by the dominant male. The hushed forest seems to hold its breath as they show themselves. This is one of the most magical moments I've had on my trip. Hear what the Phnong people feel is needed to manage the forests they live in: Windows Media | Real Video
Day Ten: Vultures! Srepok Wilderness Area is tucked against the Cambodia-Vietnam border, where WWF is working with local communities and provincial authorities to set up an ecotourism project. This project is designed after the South African game reserve model and aims to bring tourists from all over the world to fish in the river, go on safaris in the forests, and bird watch in one of the most exotic locations in the world. In return, the revenue will help support conservation of natural resources in the country. The manager of the project is Martin Von Kashke, the South African project advisor. He is very forthright and very patient. However, should anyone be caught littering in the camp area or in the forest, he insists on immediate push-ups as penance. It works remarkably well. With Martin is Keo Sopheak, the project officer that serves as the government counterpart from the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries. Sopheak is Martin's right hand man and has been training under him for the last two years.  The Mereuch camp is a collection of large basic wooden lodges. The floors and walls are rough slabs of wood with natural chinks between the planks. No one really stays inside that much. Mostly, people sit outside in the yard, where there is a partly open kitchen. Two peacocks and a pet turtle dominate the kitchen's front yard, which gently slopes into the river. Breakfast is an idyllic repast listening to the river and watching the forest on the other side. After breakfast, Sopheak will take us to the vulture restaurant! This is a clearing in the forest where a carcass of a buffalo or goat is left putrefying for a few days, which serves as a neon "Big Special" sign for the vultures in the area. It is a successful way for Martin and Sopheak to keep count and monitor the vulture populations. This is also an opportunity for us to test out how this works as a tourist attraction. On our way there, Martin sets a quick pace and wants complete silence as we walk in file. When we get to the site, we walk up to the carcass. Sopheak brings me up to it very very closely so I don't miss the bones laid bare, the feasting maggots, and the putrid scent. He and Martin assess how much meat has already been consumed. They also find dhole, wild dog, signs in the area. Soon, we settle a little distance away in a camouflaged tent with small openings that we can see out of. After an hour, my leg is cramping. After two, it feels like it has fallen off. And, then we are rewarded. Two red-headed vultures alight, which is quite rare. Martin is ecstatic. We return happy.
Day Nine: Srepok Wilderness Area Ever since I began working on the Greater Mekong Program, I've struggled with languages. Do I even try to learn a language when each country has several and none of the major ones overlap? If so, which one do I pick; should it be in terms of learning ease, number of people who use it or availability of lessons back in Washington, DC? So of course, what I've done is effectively master the most basic greetings in all. I can greet someone and thank them in Vietnamese, Khmer, Thai and Laotian. But, in Khmer, I've made a larger effort. We bump and jolt our way through the dark forest, with every turn promising to overturn the truck. The roads are slippery due to the rains and we get stuck several times. I decide to review my list of useful Khmer words, those integral for survival. You know, just in case. Soom: Please Bon dtub: Bathroom Mahob: Food Dtuk: Water Bia: Beer I turn to Teak and ask him, "how do you say 'Help!" in Khmer?" "Je knom poong", he replies. I can just see myself lost in the dark forest on my way back from the restroom, yelling out "Je knom poong!" meanwhile obsessing over whether the emphasis is on knom or poong? "Isn't there anything shorter?" I ask him. After a minute, he suggests I just yell. As in, "Aaaa" from the universal language of pain. Someone will answer. Or something will. We are inside the Mondulkiri forest, parallel to the forest corridor that connects Phnom Prich  Wildlife Sanctuary and Srepok Wilderness Area. This is the Lower Mekong Dry Forests, an incredible topography that changes dramatically during the wet and dry seasons. In the dry season, the Forests are, well, dry - most of the trees are withered and the ground remains bare. In the wet season, it is exactly the opposite, verdant green, with heavy foliage and lush undergrowth. The incredible thing is that the species that survive in this habitat have to be perfectly adaptable to these extreme reverse conditions. In case you're struggling to imagine what these would be, the answer is wild cattle! This region was known as the Serengeti of Asia; it contained massive herds of Kouprey, Gaur, Banteng, and Wild Water Buffalo. Unfortunately, koupreys haven't been seen in the wild since 1957. Half a century of conflict and over-hunting has taken its toll. Other species that have suffered include tigers, elephants, leopards and birds like the Bengal Florican and Giant Ibis. However, in the past few years, WWF's work in the Dry Forests has encouraged strict protection zones and we can see results already. More and more tiger cubs are showing up on our camera traps as well as other species making a swift comeback. After taking my fair share of bumps from the road, we reach Mereuch, the headquarters for the Srepok Wildness Area by evening.
Day Eight: On the Road Again! It's 5 am. I get up blearily and we roll out with our cameras, trying to capture what fine examples of biodiversity are available in the market today. Fish markets are one of my must see spots everywhere I go in the Mekong region. It is incredible what you can find; creatures that you thought existed only in your 6th grade nightmares, every type of fish available in the region, as well as prawns, snails, frogs, turtles, snakes, all squirming about in basins and buckets or marinated, as you prefer. On our return, we are reunited with Teak with whom I will be traveling with towards Mondulkiri. There is much strapping and tightening of our supplies in the back - it  will be pretty rough going in parts. The drive can be summed up in one word - dusty. By the time we tie the tarp on the back of the truck, the dust has already settled into the folds. Our truck is flanked by large Honda motorbikes, the preferred means of traveling for many of our staff. These guys strap on their field gear and intrepidly ride all over the country. It takes a stomach of steel to ride on these roads, for we spend as much time off the road then on to avoid the gargantuan holes. Driving through Cambodia is both idyllic and unsettling. On one hand, the country is a lush unending line of rice paddies and coconut or palm trees, presenting a sense of security and wellbeing. However, the towns often have a tired feel to them and it is common to see people standing around aimlessly, without the usual activity that one sees in a busy town. Like any poor country, the contrast between the rich and poor is infinite and impossible to ignore.  People in Cambodia are broken into rough groups of ethnic Khmer, the Khmer Loeu, the Chinese and the Vietnamese. While the ethnic Khmer are found mostly in central and southeastern Cambodia, the Khmer Loeu live mostly in the northeast and southwest areas of Mondulkiri, Rotanakiri and Kratie. The term, "Khmer Loeu" itself is not authentic. The government coined the word; literally "highland Khmer"; to create a joint identity for the highland tribal groups and the lowland ethnic Khmer that they have historically rebelled against. We get to Sen Monorom, the last major town before we head into the Srepok Wildneress Area, late afternoon. Much of the money here comes from gold mining or logging and it feels like a rough and tumble frontier town in the middle of nowhere. And yet, just about everyone has a cell phone in their hand as they obsessively turn them off and on - From here on, all telecommunication access is unreliable. Seated in one of the restaurants in town, we can hear Khmer, English, French, various hill tribe languages and Vietnamese all around us. The radio is blaring a combination of traditional Khmer music and karaoke Madonna. This is the face of globalization.
Day Seven: Hog DeerToday, Matt Lewis, also from the WWF-US Program and I meet up with Chea Nareth who works in the WWF Cambodia Species Team, to go in search of hog deer! First off, let me just say that no one gets very excited about hog deer. They aren't particularly beautiful, large or endangered. The name certainly doesn't help. In fact, the name comes from their habit of rooting underneath bushes when startled like a wild pig rather than leaping around gracefully like most deer. But, we like them! Hog deer was thought to have gone extinct in Southeast Asia until a year ago, when our project staff in this area discovered a small population. This is a good indicator that important species are making a come-back in areas that are protected, proving that securing habitats can reverse declining populations of endangered species. After a hair-raising canoe ride, we reach ground and set out on foot. Immediately, I am wet to my knees. In less than five minutes, my hiking boots are soaked inside and out, and very soon, a combination of mud, manure and slush are mixing up in there. The terrain is incredibly diverse. We go between marshes, bogs, grasslands and dry high ground continuously. There are points where the rushes are so tall that my 5 feet 2 frame is totally swallowed and I’m convinced that I'll never see the rest of the group again.  Matt is in his element. He claims that his Cherokee genes make him predisposed to tracking and I get to see this in action now. To the delight of our field staff, he is painstakingly following hog deer sign. This is where the hog deer stepped into the dust; this is where it heard something and got scared; this is where it slid on its knees in the ground; this is the bush it hid under; this is where it pooped and this is where the other hog deer stepped into the mud; and, so on. It is captivating for about exactly 35 seconds, but I don't let on. Listen, I trained as a socio-economist for a reason! We also go from farm to farm, following a different type of tracking system; rice crops that have been neatly sheared off to about 10 inches from the ground. It is as though someone came with a mowing machine, picked a square, and precisely worked their way across. Nareth and his staff are experimenting with tape from music cassettes that can be strung around paddy fields and due to the glitter, can safely scare away the hog deer. It is working in most of the plots we visit, so the team now plans to expand this method to other farms as well. Finally resigned that we wont see any hog deer today (despite Matt's excellent tracking skills), we decide to head back.
Day Six: Dolphin Communities
Today, we visit the local communities along the stretch of the river. For the most part, the communities that WWF works with are fishing villages that have relied for centuries on the river for their survival. The WWF Mekong Dolphin project is focused on setting up sustainable livelihood programs to deter over-fishing in these areas and to create incentives for local communities to care about dolphin conservation. One of the best ways to do this is ecotourism or more appropriately, dolphin tourism! The houses in the villages are all on stilts due to seasonal rising of the river – already the water is close to the top of the stilts. With us is Or Channy, the executive director of the Cambodian Rural Development Team (CDRT) who works closely with Richard. As part of the sustainable development projects, Channy shows us various project activities around the village including a water pump and a fisheries pond that an enterprising villager has set up with co-financing from the project. Instead of fishing in the river, he now fishes from the pond and unlike most fishermen, he has a more secure and reliable livelihood.  There are two major concerns worrying Richard and Channy. Originally, when the tourism regulations were firmed up by the dolphin project, CDRT and Tourism Dept., the community in Kampi received 40% of the dolphin area entrance fee and participated in dolphin ecotourism decision making through a committee. This 40% share was used to fund community development projects. Recently, this system has been discontinued by the government authority which has taken charge of the project. Now, only a few villagers that operate tourist boats or sell goods to tourists at the site benefit from tourism. This takes away the economic incentive for villagers to cooperate with WWF since people no longer benefit from dolphin conservation. Moreover, the villages upstream that are located adjacent to dolphin habitat have restrictions imposed on their fishing activities by the government but don't receive any benefits from tourism. Consequently, they feel left out when comparing themselves to Kampi. D  espite this, WWF has made great strides here. Local fishermen have begun to switch to more sustainable fishing methods instead of gillnets. Gillnets are the most common fishing method, cheap, easy to use and indiscriminately catch dolphins, baby giant catfish and seven-stripe barb. Gillnets are particularly responsible for the rapid population depletion of giant fish species. Of special interest to us are deep pools; areas in the river where fish breed and feed during dry seasons and dolphins in particular are limited to during low waters. WWF is working to limit the use of gillnets in these deep pools and talking with some of the local fishermen, I see that they are too. Over the course of the last few years, they can see the fish disappearing in front of their eyes. They are as keen as we are to protect the remaining fish populations; it is their future.
Day Five: Mekong River DolphinsThe next morning, we head out on to the river to count the dolphins in two pools, Kampi, which is a regular tourist draw and Chroy Banteay, which doesn't allow tourist boats. It is hot, hot, hot on the river. We are on a long-tail boat, supposedly counting dolphins. In reality, all we can see are occasional silver blips rising out of the shimmering water. They are suspiciously synchronized. Just when you spot two on the right side of the boat, you catch another from the corner of your eye on the left side of the boat. When you whirl back to the right, the waters have closed over the tails of the first two. The dolphins usually emerge out of the river in twos and threes, just a heartbeat apart from each other. They are silverfish grey all over. Unlike other dolphins, they have a much more rounded head with no beak. Instead, they have a large smile that curve across their face and large button eyes right next to their mouth. Each time they come up for air, you can hear a wet snort of spray and it is impossible to restrain the "oohs and aahs". There is something so wonderful about seeing them in the wild. Richard and San, his program officer, (both of whom can distinguish among them) say that there are 11 individuals in this pod.  During lunch, we sober down. These dolphins we saw are some of the last remaining few of the Mekong dolphins. Meanwhile, the threats seem insurmountable; mining, pollution, over-fishing and large hydropower dams. In response, WWF's Living Mekong Program, which works on freshwater conservation, has taken a two pronged approach -- one is the Mekong dolphin project itself, and the others involves coming up with alternative scenarios for hydropower development. It promotes more widespread demand side management, energy efficiency and energy conservation to reduce the rapid escalation of energy demand. WWF wants to support increased use of alternative energies such as biomass wind and solar power to meet that demand as much as possible. But, additional hydropower development is inevitable in this region and so, we work with the major players in the region such as the Mekong River Commission and the Asian Development Bank to try and ensure that this development takes place with the least social and environmental impacts possible.
Day Four: Kratie -- Mekong River DolphinsThe town of Kratie feels like a collection of large abandoned government buildings. Other than the main highway that runs parallel to the town, there are very few people in the streets. We walk to the port and along the river before heading to the Mekong River Dolphin project office. There, we meet the staff and Richard Zanre, the project manager, to get an update on the project. This is not a good year for the Irrawaddy dolphins in the Mekong. A fifth of the remaining populations of the Mekong dolphins have died, most of them newborn calves. Richard says that 14 dolphins died within two months earlier in the year. Usually, the adult deaths are caused by the illegal use of gillnets, dynamite and electric fishing by local fishermen. However, it is unclear why the calves are dying. Only 80 or so dolphins remain in the river, and they are all found only in one stretch of the river between Kratie and the Cambodia-Laos border. We can't afford to have the population decline each year by 20 percent; they will soon be extinct. Tissue samples from the dead calves were recently sent to Canada to identify potential causes for their deaths. We go over possibilities, including industrial sources for pollutants such as gold mining upstream, much of which is illegal and poorly managed, and mono-crop farming which requires a lot of pesticide use and produces runoff downstream. There is also a possibility that the deaths are caused by dioxins left over from the Agent Orange dropped during and after the Vietnam War. The wars in the Mekong region have a lot to answer for.  We decide to break for the day. On my own for a while, I set out to buy a durian. Not just any durian, but a-firm-yet-on-the-verge-of-spongy, durian. What is a durian? It is a rancid, stinky, malodorous fruit banned from all the classy hotels in Southeast Asia usually with a "No Spitting. No Dogs. No Durians." sign. Pooh, I say! Live large. This fruit has personality, it is full bodied. (Well, in an old-school opera singer sort of way.) Before meeting the rest of my group for dinner, I head to the nearby stalls and hand-sign with the owner until we are both satisfied. This requires some shocked expressions on my part and the gradual handing over of more and more money until he takes the amount he's satisfied with. This exchange is book-ended with two spoken words on my part, "Soxabai" (hello) and an "Oghun" (thank you). Because I'm in a hurry to meet my team, I grab the nearest one and head back to the restaurant. Within five minutes of getting myself settled, one half of the table has taken to wrinkling their noses. I am forced admit that there is a durian under my chair and have to banish it to the street. Afterwards, we step out to find it still there. No takers- no matter. It tastes wonderful.
Day Three: Riding the Mekong
Being on the Mekong, I imagine, is like riding a dragon - a gigantic beast that is part myth, part tradition, all real and all illusion. It is powerful, immense even, and ancient but it charges along in many places like a young playful river, bringing good fortune and sometimes destruction to its people. The river is immense, the waters are endless, and the banks are a smudge of brown in the distance. After a torrent of rain beating into us and the river, in which our boat feels like a frail effort on sailing, the skies magically clear up. Suddenly, the river is transformed. After having crossed over, driven along and flown over the Mekong countless times, I am finally meeting the Mother of All Waters face to face and she is to be marveled at.  The Mekong starts in the Tibetan Plateau over 17,000 feet high; it is known as Dzachu in Tibetan, the River of Rocks and Lancang Jiang in Chinese, the Turbulent River, and it rushes and roars down steep gorges until it arrives at the edge of Myanmar and Laos. There, it relaxes; the river evens out as it cleaves between Laos and Thailand. It is now called the Mae Nam Khong, Mother of all Waters. Wending down Cambodia, it becomes the Tonle Thom, the Great River, and finally it crosses Vietnam's rich delta tranquilly as Cuu Long, the Nine Dragons. So, why care about the Mekong? One of the world's great rivers, it is over 1400 miles long - longer than the Mississippi. It sustains over 65 million people along its stretches, over three-fourths of whom depend on it for their livelihoods. It has over 1300 species of fish. And, consider this: the Mekong hosts more giant fish than any other river in the world. Chief amongst these is the Mekong giant catfish, over 600 pounds and 9 feet in length, the largest freshwater fish in the world. Other notables include the Siamese giant carp and the seven-striped barb, which is my personal favorite because of its iridescent beauty.  Finally, the river bank is in sight. Coming to shore, I can count the boats and barges parked against each other, stacked like dominoes. Getting off or coming on a boat can work your glute muscles very effectively; you clamber on to the one closest to you and then your way out to the next stacked boat and so on until you finally reach your target. I'm happy to get to the hotel and stagger to my room after ordering a fruit plate. When my food arrives, I see papaya, mango and dragon fruit. How appropriate. Off to bed.
Day Two: Phnom PenhPhnom Penh is the capital of Cambodia. It sits at the crossing point of the rivers Mekong, Tonle Bassac and Tonle Sap. The city is a culmination of breathtaking architecture with curling roofs that soar above evenly distributed squalor. The streets are vibrantly alive and the markets are a riot of color, food, smells and sights. The main street that lies along the Bassac is a string of French colonial buildings in pastel colors, most of which are restaurants or hotels. Child vendors make their rounds peddling the latest knock-off Lonely Planets and tuktuk drivers yell out for new fares as they pass by. I wake up early, partly due to jetlag and partly because I want to visit the markets, which open around 5 am. The first place on my list is the Russian Market, a leftover phenomenon of the 1980s.  In the Russian market, there is no room for personal space. It is a maze of covered stalls that sell everything from deep fried cockroaches, gold jewelry, Chanel bags with small defects, to bootlegged DVDs, an Asian market staple. The last time I was here, I also saw stalls with unidentifiable bush meat hanging on hooks, dried frogs, lizards, and various bones - all with "miraculous" healing powers. After what feels like a fight with a horde of shopkeepers putting up their stalls and early morning shoppers, I penetrate far enough to hit the jackpot. There are live freshwater turtles and pythons in small tubs of tepid water lying around, and what looks like muntjac (small type of deer) skins.  Wildlife trade is alive and kicking in Southeast Asia. Big cats dominate the highly coveted luxury goods end of the market. Tigers in particular, are in high demand. They are used for a wide range of purposes, as an aphrodisiac, to ensure longevity and even cure cancer. Just one bowl of soup made of tiger parts can sell for over $500. For the most part, the biggest threat to Cambodia's wildlife is the market demand from China and Vietnam. Not surprisingly, it is rarer and rarer to find wildlife in the wild. Often, conservationists are forced to do their fieldwork in markets and restaurants as a quicker way of seeing what species still live in the wild. Thankfully, Cambodia still retains one third of its forest cover. These forests provide critically needed habitat to tigers, elephants, clouded leopards, banteng, gaurs and their wetlands shelter birds such as the Sarus Crane and the rare masked finfoot. WWF has been working here since 1993, focusing on the Lower Mekong Dry Forests Ecoregion, the largest continuous area of dry forest in all of Southeast Asia and a critical Mekong river habitat.
Day One: Flying in
Cambodia, more than any other place settles into peoples' minds as one of those distant countries that is too authentically third world. Pol Pot, the Khmer Rouge, the Killing Fields. These make up Cambodia's history, at least on CNN and in the movies. Anything recent is disheartening; impoverishment, corruption, trafficking, illegal trade, unresolved conflict, and of course, the stymied UN crimes tribunal. Except, I love Cambodia. Cambodia is captivating. For me, it is an intoxicating combination of history and modernity, chaos and serenity, starvation and generosity, and destitution and rich heritage. It is also the heart of some of WWF's best conservation efforts in the Greater Mekong region.  For this trip, I will zigzag through the country for two weeks; Phnom Penh in the south and then north east up the Mekong River to the WWF Mekong dolphin project in Kratie. After that I veer east to the Srepok Wilderness Area in Mondulkiri before I return to visit the Angkor Wat temples and spend a day on the Tonle Sap, one of the world's greatest freshwater lakes and a natural wonder in its own right. When I arrived at the Phnom Penh airport, eight high ranking military officers are sitting in a row waiting for my paperwork. I hand my passport to the first officer, my application to the second, my photos to the third, and shuffle along watching my passport change hands until finally, I have my stamped passport in hand. But, wait. The immigration officer stops me and asks if I'm Cham. I say no. He tilts his head and repeats, "half Cham?" questioningly. I reply, "no, half Indian." He looks down at the passport. "Ah, Indian." He is smiling so this must be a good thing. I smile back, relieved and walk out into the humid evening.  Teak, the head of WWF Cambodia, has come to meet me. He has an affable smile and a sudden rapid fire laugh. He went to Yale for his graduate degree but returned to Cambodia five years ago to work on natural resource conservation. On the way to town, I mention my experience with the Customs officer and he tells me that the Khmers like Indians. We have a shared history that goes back over 2000 years when Cambodia was called Funnan and was part of the India-China trade route. Also, I apparently look part Cham, the Muslim minority in Cambodia and a fusion of Indian, Chinese, and Arabic cultures. For now, I'm just happy because I'm closer to home in more ways than I thought.
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