After a day of serious topics, a day of casual sightseeing was a welcome change. Having seen the sad sights, and arriving at the royal palace just in time for it to close for lunch, our driver suggested a trip to Mekong Island.
Mekong Island sits about 10 miles outside the city up the Mekong River. An hour ride by tuk tuk and a short ferry crossing and you find yourself on “the island.” The island has two attractions, the local weaving and a very large river beach with grass huts for day use. Our ride and crossing were uneventful with only the bribe of a local policemen by the ferry operator to attract our attention. Clearly the police have their hands in everything here.
Shortly after our arrival we began passing through the villages with shop houses and the local looms. Instantly, the ladies emerged waiving their products. Not being interested in buying, we urged our driver onward in hopes of a quiet day. No such luck! The ladies strapped their wares on the back of bikes and motorbikes and pursued us down the road. “You look at scarf?” “You look at SCARF!!” was repeatedly shouted over the din of our motorbike. After a few near collisions, we stopped to look at a few, if only to appease the curiosity of the locals and cement the fact that we wouldn’t be buying. The products are amazing if you’re in to that sort of thing. We weren’t in to them at all! I have to give them credit for their persistence though, even though repeated claims of “men don’t wear scarfs” were made, they still kept trying to wrap them around my neck. Laura wasn’t doing any better, she tried citing color, weight and lack of necessity and still the scarfs kept coming. I have to admit that at this point I was wondering why our driver brought us out here. Expecting a relaxing ride on an island with beautiful beaches, I began wondering if we were just being “taken for a ride.” We asked about lunch and were taken to a local house. Presented with a vast menu of chicken, rice and morning glories (not just a flower, they eat them here), I thought of the movie “My Cousin Vinny” and the “breakfast” menu. We opted for the chicken, rice and morning glories. Just outside the dining area, we saw the cook’s son catch our chicken, wind up it’s neck like a top and “prepare” it behind the tree. At least we knew it was fresh! Our lunch was served in the company of cows and dogs one of which got too close to our chicken as it met its’ maker and was splattered in blood (the dog, not the cow). Our lunch conversation focused on “what people eat for lunch.” Our driver eagerly ate all the chicken parts that we politely pushed aside. We explained that we just don’t eat those things. (Guts/entrails are a common dish here…) He explained that in Cambodia they eat EVERYTHING! Yes, we have now confirmed that anything goes in Cambodia. All of the cats and dogs weren’t just pets, they were in fact destined for the table! This explains why there aren’t many stray animals in Cambodia. If that weren’t strange enough, things then took a turn to the surreal. Ever seen the movie Night of the Living Dead? This was more like “Afternoon of the Living Weaver.” We already had our original accompaniment of weavers sitting in our ride waiting for us to finish lunch, but then more began to appear. From North, South, East and West, Cambodian women emerged from the trees walking in slow motion, carrying their hand woven scarfs. Just when we thought there couldn’t be any more, two more would appear. They were unstoppable. I could almost hear them all moaning, “sssscaaarfff…” By the end of lunch we had half a dozen women chasing us as we headed toward the beach, and left several other bike-less weavers standing in the shade.
The beach spread out on a large sand bar into the river. Tiny bungalows are built for beach goers out in the water on stilts. Mats were rented for a dollar. I believe that this is a very hip place to go for the locals. Being Westerners and horrified at the prospect of swimming in the Mekong, we relaxed in the shade of the hut and stayed out of the water. I abandoned Laura to the throng of vendors and ran (literally) off to take pictures. After some more tense salesmanship, Laura presented and empty wallet and convinced them she really didn’t have any money. Then they all became friends. They looked at her driver’s license and credit cards, one of which was declared a passport by one of the “knowledgable” village woman. The women even escorted us to the ferry stop, where they waited with Laura in the tuk tuk. When the ferry arrived they parted with hugs and warmly waved a fond farewell as we pushed off from the banks. I think Laura felt guilty about not buying any scarves.
Arriving back in the city too late to hit the Royal Palace, the trip was deferred until the next morning. Upon arrival the following day, the Palace was entertaining the Sultan of Brunei so no visitors were allowed. A quick tour of the neighboring Silver Pagoda and then we were off to Viet Nam!
