DRAGON BOATS BID ME FAREWELL

Thousands of Khmers crowd the riverfront for the dragon boat races

I’m leaving Cambodia soon, and a huge crowd has gathered. A mass of humanity stretches for several blocks. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen in Southeast Asia.

But this isn’t a riot. And it’s not a political rally. Thousands and thousands of Khmers, many with their families, have come to the Phnom Penh riverside to watch the dragon boat races.

Over 300 colorful dragon boats, resembling long outrigger canoes, from all over the country will race and compete for glory and honor on the river. Farmers from far flung provinces have just completed harvesting their fields, and traveled all the way here to celebrate or participate.

2 - 3 dozen men crowd into each dragon boat, all wearing matching colored t-shirts. A flag bearing the number of their rowing team flies off the back of each, flapping in the wind as each strong stroke by the crew drives them towards the finish line.

The dragon boat races are part of the annual Water Festival in Phnom Penh

Dragon boats have a long history in Cambodia. The event commemorates a legendary naval battle during the reign of King Jayavarman VII. This Khmer King that reigned over Angkor Wat led them to victory on the waters against the neighboring Cham empire.

Taking place over 3 days in November, the dragon boat races are part of the annual Water Festival, marking the time when the Mekong River downriver swells, and the Tonle Sap River that meets it reverses its course. Upriver becomes downriver.

Like everything else that was popular, fun and traditional in Cambodia, this festival was banned during the Khmer Rouge communist years. It was revived in 1990, and the festival and races have grown exponentially ever since.

I attended a wedding in Phnom Penh before, and that was also a joyous occasion. But this huge festival gives me a different feeling.

More than 300 dragon boats take part in the races on the Tonle Sap River

As I watch families enjoy the festival, I get a vibe that I have never felt in Cambodia before.

Mass happiness.

In my six months here in Cambodia, I had spent much of my time traveling through the old war zones, speaking to survivors. These people had survived oppression under the French, the civil war with the Lon Nol dictatorship, war against the Vietnamese, and worst of all, the Khmer Rouge genocide.

Talking to these resilient survivors about those horrible days was not cheerful work.

But here at the dragon boat races, I sense the happiness that the people of Cambodia truly deserve. This is their festival. Done by them, for them. It’s a purely Khmer tradition that they can all enjoy.

That night, I return to the riverside, and see another unexpected sight. Elaborately lighted boats. Decorated with thousands of what westerners would call ‘Christmas tree lights’, thousands of bulbs form huge floating figures, such as nagas and other Buddhist icons. Impressive.

Lighted boats illuminate the river at night during the Water Festival

To close the event, the night sky lights up with fireworks over the lighted boats and barges.

As I leave Cambodia, I’m glad that this festival is my last experience in this fascinating country. 

The Khmer people I’ve met during my time here have endured the worst, but this country is on the upturn.

There are problems, to be sure. But they are at peace.

Their darkest days are behind them. I hope so. I pray so.

I can feel it. There is hope for the future here.

UP THE MEKONG RIVER TO CAMBODIA

I leave Vietnam from their oddly designed Mekong River immigration post

As our boat chugs up the Mekong River against the dark water’s strong current, I look to the riverbank. Up on a flagpole, the familiar red flag of Vietnam flaps in the wind. Steps away, a red and white fence marks the border. Our small boat boat passes the fence, where another banner waves above a humble border post. The flag is striped blue and red, with an image of the ancient Angkor Wat temple in the center. 

I’ve just left Vietnam, and crossed into the Kingdom of Cambodia. 

I’m traveling with a mixed boatload of travelers, hailing from China, Finland, Korea and Australia. As usual, I’m the only American and we’ve just left Vietnamese immigration. We could have just walked across the border, but this is all part of a Mekong journey taking me to Phnom Penh, Cambodia’s capital. Our boat docks, and walking up the riverbank, we pass beneath a large sign: “KAAMSAMNAR-KOHROKAR INTERNATIONAL BORDER CHECK-POINT POLICE STATION”. That’s a mouthful. 

Crossing post with faded paint marks the riverside land border

Compared to the Vietnamese side, immigration here is a small operation. Leaving Vietnam, their new immigration office was strangely designed like some kind of new age ship. It was even air conditioned. 

But not on this side. Cambodia doesn’t have money for that extravagance, so we queue in the hot sun. There are few immigration officers in this small office, so the line is slow moving. Most visitors travel to Cambodia by road or air, so this Mekong border crossing has fewer travelers. 

The first major difference I note, is their priorities. They don't have much money for a big immigration office, but they do have money for their religion. An impressive Buddhist shrine and large spirit house are at the entrance. Both look stunning with gold paint and red trim, outshining the simple government buildings that surround it. Cambodia is no longer a radical communist, atheist country. Buddhism has returned.

Buddhist shrine and spirit house by the border post

After sweating in the queue for awhile, I finally pass into the shade and get my passport stamped. We head back to the river, and end up with a larger boat, though it’s not much of an upgrade. We are joined by 10 more Spanish and English passengers, so it won’t be a very roomy journey. Although our new river boat has a toilet in the back, it’s not quite up to environmental standards. The bathroom is the size of a closet, and the hole where you sit drops straight into the river. Adequate sanitation is scarce here; lots of raw sewage empties into the Mekong.

As we depart, one of the Khmers (Cambodians) on board starts calling out to the passengers for his side business. “Change money… Change money for Cambodia riel.” I decline, due to Cambodia’s unusual currency system. Although the official currency is the riel, the US dollar is widely accepted. The highest riel bill commonly found in circulation is the 10,000 riel note, worth only about US $2.50. Larger purchases are usually done in US dollars. Even Cambodian bank ATMs give out cash in dollars. 

Queuing for Cambodian visa and passport stamps

Settling in for our long river cruise, I immediately notice a major change in the river from the opposite side of the border. Back in Vietnam, the Mekong is a delta with many branches. But on the Cambodian side, this is just one huge river, more than a mile wide. 

River traffic is reduced too. On Vietnam's side, there are many more boats, fishermen, and villages. That is partly due to the fact that Vietnam’s population is more than six times that of Cambodia, so the river gets more use there.

With an open river ahead of us, the Cambodian side is definitely more scenic, rustic, and romantic. Here there's far less evidence of man and modernity. On this stretch of the Mekong, there are few coastal towns, Khmers on the river live mostly in small villages with plenty of distance between them. Palm trees lining the riverbank are far larger, and numerous. There’s not as much logging in this quieter, less hectic corner of Southeast Asia. 

I find the hum of the motor rather relaxing. The hot sun is replaced by clouds, and the boat’s motion gives us a cool breeze as we head deeper into Cambodia. Our long blue boat isn't big on amenities; rather than individual seats, passengers sit on wooden benches that run the length of the boat. The ceiling is strangely decorated with artificial flowers. A woman working the boat makes the rounds with a basket, selling beer and soda. Nobody buys beer, since everyone is hot and dehydrated from the tropical heat. 

Khmer fisherman on Mekong River

As we continue, the river craft begins to list to the port side, and our boat slows down. The Khmer pilot comes aft to the passengers, making hand motions to a portly Spaniard. I chuckle, realizing what he’s trying to say. If he could have spoken English, he would have said, “Would the heavyset Spanish gentleman please move back to the other side of the boat?”

Once the Spaniard gets his meaning, he says, “I didn’t know I was that heavy.” There’s laughter, as he changes sides, the boat is righted, and we’re off again. 

Looking upriver, I see mist ahead of us. Rain. We’re about to get poured on. Soon we’re in it, and the crew scrambles around the riverboat, bringing bags of rice down from the rooftop. Then they quickly lower the cabin’s side flaps, hoping to keep us dry. 

The rain grows heavier, and I hope the downpour won’t last. As we shelter from the deluge, I ponder the Mekong’s stormy past. On this slow boat up the Mekong River into Cambodia, I'm reminded of Joseph Conrad’s river journey in ‘Heart of Darkness’, and the Vietnam War era movie "Apocalypse Now" that was based on his book. Much like the movie and book, there was a time when the journey here led to madness. During the war years, this was the world's most dangerous river. It started with the communist fighters of the Khmer Rouge. 

Our crowded boat heads upriver into Cambodia

I'd already encountered former communist fighters in Vietnam, but as I'd also seen in Ba Chuc, the Viet Cong had nothing on the Khmer Rouge when it came to murderous brutality. Some of that violence was seen here. This stretch of the Mekong River was a lifeline for the US backed government of Cambodia during the war; in the early 1970’s the Khmer Republic received most of its supplies up this Mekong route. But as the communist Khmer Rouge gained in strength, they began targeting river convoys here with a fury. Many supply ships, escort boats, and lives were lost on this river. Much of that war refuse remains; marine wreckage and a great deal of unexploded ordinance still litter the river bottom. out of sight beneath the darkened waters.

Khmer Rouge attacks here brought heavy retaliation from the US military, using B-52 bombers. When the Mekong’s river banks were seen later from the air, a US embassy officer remarked that the countryside, “looked like the valleys of the moon,” from all the bomb craters. Just like in Vietnam, B-52’s weren’t the answer to stop guerrilla warfare. In time, the Khmer Rouge eventually cut off all resupply convoys, blocking river access to Vietnam and the coast. When that finally happened, the days of the Cambodian government were numbered. 

Some river boats look overloaded, low in the water

Before long we motor ahead out of the rain, the flaps go up, and our lovely river views are restored. River traffic picks up, and we pass wooden boats carrying sand, gravel and bricks. It’s good to see that military cargos have been replaced by construction materials. These cargos are meant to build, not destroy. Some overloaded boats look so low in the water, that you’d swear that they’re sinking. At night, some don’t even use running lights. They appear as long, dark silhouettes in the water; some have been sunk after late night collisions.

My fellow travelers aren’t a talkative lot, except for the Spaniard, who asks aloud, “Is this country communist also?”

An Englishman corrects him, “No, it’s a kingdom”.  

This 'kingdom' is one of the poorest countries in Asia, as poverty is widespread in Cambodia. There are few signs of modernity, we see only a rare cell phone tower, and a pair of new Buddhist temples. A farmer with an ox cart walking the riverbank reminds me that most poor Khmers get by as farmers. Many villages we pass are all thatched roof homes, lacking electricity. My journey is during the dry season, but in the rainy season, much of the shore in view will be underwater. I see no bridges over the river either; Cambodia remains seriously underdeveloped.

As the hours pass, I find myself yawning. There are too many passengers on our boat’s benches for anyone to lay down. Still, some are already asleep. With the motor's hum acting as a lullabye, I give in, and close my eyes. Sleep finally comes. 

Soon, I arrive in Phnom Penh.  

BOATING BEAUTIFUL HALONG BAY

Scenic Halong Bay, the most popular oceanic travel sight in Vietnam

I'm out at sea, in a very unique vessel. This wooden boat, seems to be a cross between a houseboat and a Chinese junk. But there is no clear view of the ocean horizon. Our boat is dwarfed by massive karst pillar formations, which thrust up out of the ocean. They resemble slumping stone giants, rising up from the watery depths. There are few places on the seven seas with views like this. If I weren't in Asia, I would think that this could be a vision out of Greek mythology.

I'm off the coast of northern Vietnam, in the gorgeously scenic Halong Bay.

A lone boat is dwarfed by karst islands

This floating community in the bay includes a school!

This bay is so beautifully unique, that it gained the attention of Hollywood. The James Bond movie, "Tomorrow Never Dies" had a scene here. Pierce Brosnan and Asian action movie star Michelle Yeoh supposedly found an enemy 'stealth boat' in the waters between these oceanic mountains. Although entertaining, part of the storyline was an insult to the Vietnamese. The script said that Halong Bay was controlled by a 'Chinese General'. That's a laugh. Halong Bay and its islands are Vietnamese territory, and no Chinese General has controlled it for centuries. If China tried to regain control of this scenic place, it would spark a new war with Vietnam. The famous spy series was never known for its realism, but anyone familiar with Sino -Viet relations would find that premise downright ridiculous.

Boy brings boatload of snacks and drinks to sell to visitors

While we are cruising for the day, we stop at a floating community. These aren't just temporary housing, there are several of these fully functioning floating communities around Halong Bay. As we check out a fish farm, our guide explains that these floating folk work in industries such as fishing and tourism. That's not surprising, since many thousands of tourists visit Halong Bay every year. It's the most popular tourist spot in northern Vietnam/ What does surprise me, is that many of  the folk living in these floating communities sometimes spend months out here in the bay, without ever stepping onshore. They even have floating school houses for the children.

We step back onto our tour boat, and continue our sea voyage. Soon a rowboat pulls up, commanded by a young boy. His boat is packed to the gunwales with snacks and drinks for tourists. I admire his rowing skills and entrepreneurial spirit, but shouldn't he be in school? And isn't he too young to be selling alcohol?

After my fellow tourists make a few purchases, we're back on our way. Eventually we stop in a sheltered cove, where they have kayaks for rent. I don't see any heavy ocean waves and I'm handy with a canoe,so I figure I'll be fine in a kayak.

After paying the rental fee, soon I'm out paddling around the bay, as a lone kayaker. Dip... dip... dip... my double bladed paddle makes the only sound I hear, as I slowly make my way around these oceanic towers of stone.

The serenity of paddling a lone kayak

Colorful cave that was long hidden in Halong Bay

Returning to our boat, we close our day by stopping on one of the bay's islands. Many tourists take overnight cruises in Halong Bay, but I'll head home tonight. This island is one of the few with a bay big enough to allow many boats to dock alongside. We do so, and soon I'm trudging up an island trail. Soon we arrive at the entrance to a cave. This island is big enough to hold a cave? Sure enough, walking inside, we find familiar stalactites, stalagmites, and flowstone that dripping waters have formed over the past millenia. Our guide tells us, that this cave was only discovered in recent years, it's a wondrous sight.  They should have filmed the James Bond movie in here.

As we board our boat and cruise back to the mainland, I smile. I'm pleased to know, that there are still discoveries being made in today's Vietnam.

Lone lady rower heads for home in Halong Bay

BOATING THE MEKONG RIVER DELTA

The Mekong River Delta is a labyrinth of islands, channels and canals

I’m seated on the floor of a small wooden boat, slowly being paddled through a remote narrow canal. I’m surrounded by jungle. Tall trees and palm branches lean towards me like outstretched arms, reaching high over the waterway. In parts foliage is so thick above me, that it blocks out the sun.

Around the boat, there is no sign of civilization. In some places the canal narrows to as little as six feet wide. To the sides, there’s no riverbank to speak of, only a continuous tangle of tree roots. I watch as mudskippers jump from the roots into the shallow waters. There is little sound; only the continuous rhythm of a simple wooden paddle, as it dips forward and back through the dark waters beneath.

This is the Mekong River Delta. As one of the largest deltas in the world, this region of Vietnam is full of islands, islands, and more islands. Even today, much of the transportation around this vast delta is still done by boat.

Handling a boat isn't just for men in the delta, women are also experts.

In these smaller canals here in Ben Tre Province, back during wartime Vietnamese rebels boated through here with relative ease. Like the narrow tunnels in Cu Chi, the Viet Cong used the small size of these canals to their advantage. The US Navy river patrol boats (PBRs) that were used all over the delta, were too large to fit into the narrow, shallow waterways such as these. They were more suitable for cruising the wider rivers and inlets, where they were occasionally attacked by VC guerillas firing rifles and B-40 rockets.

Throughout this maze of waterways and islands, locals first fought the French, then the South Vietnamese military, then the Americans. Now, since the foreign armies are gone, they’re happy to bring through invading tourists like me. The only dangers the remote delta dwellers face these days are from the rare crocodile, and occasional typhoon.

Our little boat is being paddled by a slender, barefoot female rower, wearing a traditional conical hat. A bandana mask covers most of her face. Like most Vietnamese women here, she’s probably wearing the bandana to give her protection from the sun, but it still gives her the look of an Asian bandit. Her deep brown eyes are the one facial feature that I can still see. She catches me looking at her, and stares right back at me with a very penetrating gaze. 

I wonder, what is she thinking?

No, she's not a river bandit, the mask is for sun protection.

**NOTE** Looking for more on boating in the Mekong Delta? Click here for photos and story: FLOATING MARKET ON THE MEKONG.