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Voyage en pays khmer |
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A visitor to Cambodia How can you begin to understand a country in only three months, especially one as complicated as Cambodia? The surface is not what it seems, the smiles often a façade, the scenery not always as beautiful as it first appears. But slowly a hazy picture emerges of a people navigating difficult waters to reclaim pride in themselves and their country. It's a struggle many in others countries would find overwhelming. After a few days in Phnom Penh, where the first impression is of charm buried under dust, it's time to head to the temples of Angkor Wat, the historic heart of the country and for some visitors their only experience of Cambodia. Don't be surprised to hear a tourist loudly proclaiming atop a temple that this is the only part of the country worth visiting. It isn't true. The lost glory of the temple complexes is in some ways heightened by the poverty of the locals living around them. It's a sobering reminder of the country's changing fortunes over the centuries and especially in recent years. The rural setting is serene and easy to romanticize. While the scenery may lack strong features like mountains, the constant interplay of water and greenery grows on you to create a tranquility that seems to date back ages. In the ricefields, water buffalo move slowly to their own rhythm, the perfect pace in such fierce heat. Children ride past on bicycles, giggling. But look closer. The fields around people's homes are strewn with garbage, including hundreds of plastic bags. Many houses are no more than shacks, made of dried palm leaves and offering only crude protection from the elements. And everywhere there are more mouths to feed on little or no money: almost every shack seems to have at least one baby or toddler. And listen to the stories. An adult who spent years as a 'buffalo boy' looking after livestock tells of having little to eat and having to sleep outdoors, getting wet when it rained and often falling sick. He is still plagued by stomach problems. Or the villagers who say life is much harder than before, partly because of climatic changes brought about by rampant logging in nearby forests. All is not well in 'paradise.' Some look to foreigners to ease their hardship. Tourists are presumed to be rich, and in relative terms perhaps that's true. The penny-pinching and hard bargaining expected in other Asian countries start to seem cruel here. What must a motorbike driver think when you get him to buy your water for you at the locals' price? And then, after you haggle with him over the price of a day's ride around the temples, he drops you off at a restaurant where you'll spend what you've just saved (and much, much more) on dinner. And then there are beggars, many of whom are only too happy to thrust the stump of an arm or leg at you, a legacy of the country's turbulent recent history. You might feel sorry for them and give money, or you might develop 'stump fatigue' and ignore them. You might be put off knowing that some do better from begging than from a regular job, or that others are organized by mafia types. And do you give it to street children, many of whom will spend it on sniffing glue? In the end, you'll probably find your own balance and give when you feel it's appropriate…there's no perfect answer. But don't be surprised to be on the receiving end of kindness. Cambodians, no matter how poor, exhibit a generous and spontaneous spirit. They're always willing to talk to strangers, and if they hit it off with you they might invite you to share a meal. A restaurant owner and her daughter, on their own after the father's death, are thrilled you've come to eat at their place. The daughter gives you a wallet she's made (and normally sells). When you try to pay, she's almost offended, saying "No, you can't refuse a present." It's a lesson for outsiders, who often think every action has a price tag attached. And always there is the gift of a smile, which is freely given and much appreciated in return. Cambodians want to make it on their own, despite sometimes daunting odds. In the beach town of Sihanoukville on the southern coast, a beach vendor called "Sothy" has just opened her shack that very day. She's eager to improve her English. At first she asks questions, then starts venturing her own thoughts. Resentment emerges about the country's political status quo and the number of Vietnamese people working in the area. She starts talking about her own situation and it becomes clear why she looks so much older than her age, which is only 27. Abandoned by her husband after her family ran into financial difficulty, she was left to raise her son alone and took on a job in a garment factory near Phnom Penh. The story of long hours, poor conditions and low wages is not a new one, having appeared in so many overseas newspapers. But it becomes fresh again as she recounts it, frowning and exasperated as she brings back real memories of exhaustion and injustice. She came to Sihanoukville to work at a cousin's beach restaurant, thinking she could at least have some fresh air and freedom. She was exploited again, working very long hours and paid much less than she was promised. So now here she is further down the same beach, trying to start her own business with her brother on borrowed money. And she's smiling, trying despite her fatigue to be positive about the future. Make no mistake, some Cambodians are far from poor. Phnom Penh's side streets are dotted with new mansions, some tasteful, others screaming new money. Expensive German cars cruise the boulevards, engaging in the Cambodian traffic pecking order. Big cars toot their horn at motorcyclists to get out of the way, and the motorcyclists in turn toot at cyclists. The scarcity of traffic lights and turning lanes means it's a free-for-all at intersections, where you often have to drive into oncoming traffic but it turns out to be quite efficient and the generally slow speeds make it less hair-raising. Phnom Penh is vivid proof that Cambodia was not always poor, and was in fact doing well until the sudden decline of a few decades ago. Look beyond the shabbiness of neglect and the poor roads to see impressive government offices, colonial villas, tree-lined boulevards and landmarks like the stunning art deco Central Market, which dominates the square where several roads meet. And there are thousands upon thousands of apartments, many built during the affluent 1960s. This is a truly a city of apartment dwellers, who live above shops on even the most commercial of roads. Their air quality may be poor thanks to the belching emissions of the traffic outside, but their location can't be beaten. And the human scale of the architecture is a blessing: there are currently few tall buildings. Purists may grumble that many of the new buildings have the over-opulent style so popular in Thailand and Vietnam, but cities always change. The capital has interesting choices ahead as more money flows in. It could be restored and modernized in a way that would put other Asian cities to shame. Or it could be slowly eaten away by well-connected property developers. Only time will tell. For now development is slowed by economic stagnation. Will that give the city time to decide what it wants its future to be? And what of Cambodia's future? The capital's streets are buzzing with activity once again, but the countryside is mired in poverty. Political progress is promised, but fear and intimidation remain. The Khmer people seem ready for new ideas, but there is also a strong conservativeness. Everywhere there are possibilities but also an invisible brake being applied, slowing down progress. There's a duality that simply defies too much analysis and you leave accepting that Cambodia is as it is and will find its own way into the future. |
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