Life on the River, Kmer Style

 Monday, September 26, 2011


At Phnom Penh, the Mekong winds north through Laos and into China. We take a left on the Tonle Sap and head for Siem Reap and the great temples of Angkor. Along the way, we visit two unforgettable towns.

The sounds and the sights of the Mekong and Tonle Sap rivers in Cambodia are different than Viet Nam. Our captain tells us that the Cambodian rivers are quieter, greener, and he's right. There are cows grazing, and few houses and boats beside us on the banks. This may be due to the extremely high water, overflowing for miles in every direction. When we do pass a town, we hear loudspeakers, but these are either Buddhist pagodas blaring holiday music for Dak Pen, or one of the many Mosques calling the faithful to prayer - very different than the sounds of My Tho or Chau Doc. 

Kampong Tralach is the smallest village we've called on to date, and we're scheduled to ride ox carts to a remote ancient Buddhist vihara, or monastery, a short distance from town. High water requires another plan B from Thoa, because the road is flooded part of the way. We ride in the smallest boats we've seen so far to a dry spot halfway there, and continue on our way. It's a great adventure. 

The ox carts are bumpy but fantastic, with children following us to practice their English. We arrive as the vihara's only visitors, and are greeted monks while some of the children go inside to pray. We learn that, at least until we get to Angkor, "ancient" means anything from 1850 or thereabouts, when the French first came to Cambodia.

When we get back to the Toum Teave, another boat is waiting to take us to Cambodia's floating village of Kampong Luong. The whole village literally moves about once a month, and has almost anything you'd expect to find: barber shops, gas stations, schools, churches, and a fish farm shaped like a boat with nets to keep the fish inside when it moves. The town's electricity comes primarily from car  batteries; a few businesses thrive by charging hundreds of batteries every day. Today, the village is anchored over a flooded road, the floating houses lined up alongside it as if they always belonged there. 

We return to the Toum Teave for our final evening on board, just in time for a beautiful sunset before the Captain's Farewell Dinner.

Celebrating Pchum Ben in Phnom Penh

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Our timing is excellent. We are in Cambodia for Pchum Ben, the Buddhist Festival of the Dead. It's a time to visit where ancestors lived, bringing offerings of food for hungry ghosts. Everyone is heading for the countryside except the monks tending to their temples.

We take a tuk-tuk tour of the city, visiting a few places on Road Scholar's optional itinerary. Tuk-tuks are motorbike-driven sedans, covered to protect passengers from sun and rain. They're a great way to see the city, and would be a great addition to Boston's roadways, at least in the warm weather.

One stop on our self-guided tour is Wat Ounalom, where we are greeted by a monk who blesses each of us with a sima, a thin red yarn bracelet to protect us from harm. He engages us in conversation about our homes and his, before wishing us well and telling us to wear our simas until they fall off from natural causes.

The Royal Palace, just a few blocks from the pier where the Toum Teave is berthed, is hard to miss. We will visit later today, but photographs are prohibited inside, as they are in the National Museum, another destination for this afternoon. The highest spire of the palace features four benevolent faces, evoking the architecture of the Khmer temples we will visit at Angkor Wat. 

The palace and museum are spectacular, needless to say. Even though much of the royal treasure and many historical artifacts were lost in Cambodia's civil war, the collections are impressive, and well-presented. 

At night, before dinner, Captain Prunier has invited local children to perform a traditional Apsara dance on the Toum Teave, transforming our upper deck into a center for the performing arts. It's a spectacular show, set against the warm evening glow of Phnom Penh's waterfront.

"The Republic that People Love"

Saturday, September 24, 2011


Our border crossing yesterday took longer than expected, a slow, invisible process, except for the stern Cambodian customs official who took up residence in the Captain's office on the Toum Teave. I did not take his picture. We resumed our voyage against a strong current, and arrived in Phnom Penh at midnight. 


Road Scholar has designed our first day in Cambodia as a real education. At 8 am, Professor Leakthina presents an on-board lecture about the history of her country, including her own story of survival in the days of Pol Pot. She uses the nation's seven flags since its days as a French Protectorate as a theme; before then, the Kmer people saw no need for a national banner. King Sihanouk, now in his 90s and retired, is a familiar presence, from his days as a "celestial being," the god and founder of independent Cambodia, which he declared "the republic that people love" in 1954. Later, he became a Buddhist monk, and then a member of the Kmer Rouge, until he reassumed the throne.


Our education continued all morning, with unforgettable and searing visits to the Section 21 Interrogation Center, and later, the Killing Fields. The stories were difficult to hear, and we were given the option not to attend. Those of us who did saw history where it happened, painful, raw, and real.

The Interrogation Center is preserved as it was used by the Kmer Rouge, with tiny brick cells built into the former classrooms of an elementary school in downtown Phnom Penh. Other rooms display the photographs Pol Pot's military forces took of all prisoners as they entered, not knowing their fate, some of them smiling for the camera. Of the thousands of prisoners who were detained here, only seven left alive.

The Killing Fields in nearby Choeung Ek are astonishingly raw, preserved as a series of grown-over excavations surrounding a tall Buddhist memorial, whose stone-and-glass walls house 5,000 skulls of the people who were executed here between 1975 and 1979. Our tour guides at both locations were men who had experienced the horror of Pol Pot's cruelty first-hand. Road Scholar's program planners had done their job well; other groups had younger guides who told the same stories, but without the feelings ours were able to share. It was the most emotionally powerful morning of our journey, followed, thankfully, by a free afternoon to reflect and explore the city on our own. 

Life On, and Sometimes In, the River

Friday, September 23, 2011

The people of the Mekong know their river well. Their fortunes rise and fall, literally, with it. Our program brings us here in the rainy season, when the water is at its highest. Many city people live and work in floating houses, others have homes built on stilts, and some temporarily abandon flooded buildings until the river recedes. It's an annual event, and everyone knows how to cope.

The large markets of My Tho and Chau Doc attract many shoppers by ferry, but in smaller towns, the markets come to the people. Small boats filled with today's catch, or fresh fruits and vegetables for tonight's dinner, cruise from house to house. Shopping here is also a chance to visit and catch up with each other every day.

The river sometimes brings special events, such as the wedding we happened to witness during our morning cruise in the Cham minority village near Sa Dec. The groom's family boarded a small boat right next to ours, and everyone stood during the short cruise to the ceremony a few hundred yards down the river. The young groom was dressed completely in white, and his proud family beamed behind him along the way. 

Mostly, life in the small villages is peaceful and slow. The world flows by with the Mekong in front of their windows or waterside decks. Some of them are cooking, others fish, and still others simply watch it all in a way they have come to know for a long time. Our last morning in Vietnam is a nice contrast to the bustle of the past few days, and we look forward to crossing the border into Cambodia later this afternoon.

Extra! Extra! Read All About Them, continued

September 29, 2011

Sandra Soares came all the way from Bermuda to cruise the Mekong with us, and is herself a yacht agent and dockmaster with Bermuda Yacht Services. Here she is giving a geography lesson on the location of her home island to Captain Prunier after one of our many spectacular dinners on board, as Group Leader Thoa Nguyen looks on.

Ken and Sharon Walker live in Green Valley, Arizona, and the Mekong River by Barge Program is their tenth. Ken is a biology professor from Victor College in California, and has pointed out several features of the snails, tropical fruits, and birds we have eaten and otherwise encountered on our journey. Sharon enjoys Road Scholar programs because of the people she meets while traveling.

Rosamunde Ebacher is a retired nurse practitioner and midwife from Otisfield, Maine, where she enjoys walking year-round, swimming in summer, the Red Sox, and her dogs. This is her fourth Road Scholar program, which she is enjoying immensely while looking forward to her next one, a two-week journey to Antartica in February.

Extra! Read All About Them! The People of the Mekong by Barge Program

September 27, 2011

Here are some of the people sharing our journey along the Mekong and Tonle Sap Rivers:

Stephen and Mabel Yee are from Hayward, California, where Steve is a Doctor of Optometry at Kaiser Permanente. They are embarking on their 25^th Road Scholar program, and expect to go on many more. Here’s how they do it: once they know Steve has time off, they check out the Road Scholar website and book the trip they like best. On our first night, Group Leader Thoa Nguyen presents them with gifts to commemorate their 25^th program.

Lavina Goracke sells residential real estate in Omaha, Nebraska. This is her sixth Road Scholar program. She's always the first to take part in every activity, whether it's a ride in an oxcart, a cyclo tour of Chau Doc, or an exciting Plan B invented on the fly by Thoa. She picked the Mekong by Barge program because it promised unusual culture and people. She's confident that Road Scholar will always provide the ultimate in cultural education and convenience - a combination that guarantees the trip of a lifetime, over and over again.

Eleanor Wiley is from Alameda, California, and this is her first Road Scholar program. An accomplished crafter of prayer beads, she has shared her art with several of us on the Toum Teave. She selected the Mekong program in part because of her interest in Buddhism. Eleanor has also returned more than once from the market with beautiful clams or snails, which the crew of the Toum Teave has happily prepared to be eaten, and then further prepared to be worn. Each of us has souvenir jewelry from the Mekong, courtesy of Eleanor. 

Cameron Kirkpatrick is a classical oboeist and independent video producer from Boston, Massachusetts. This is his third Road Scholar program, and he chose the Mekong by Barge because he has always been fascinated by Southeast Asian culture, history, and cuisine. He has made consistent efforts to learn enough Vietnamese and Cambodian so he can greet the people he meets in their native languages, to their, and his, great delight.

To Market

Thursday, September 22, 2011




Everywhere but in Saigon, the Vietnamese morning begins with an hour or two of official broadcasts from loudspeakers throughout the town and countryside. Popular music gives way to an announcer delivering news of the government’s latest plans for each city and region. There will be new schools built to educate local children. More roads and bridges are coming. Economic development goals are being set and achieved. Then, more music, and the broadcasts end until the evening. Thoa, our program leader, explains that people don’t like to watch the news available on television, so this is how the government communicates with them.

Until the bridges and roads arrive, the river remains the Mekong Delta’s primary transportation network. We take a boat to the markets of Sa Dec; local residents join us by ferry. Fish, meat, and vegetables of every kind are for sale here. Rambuhtan, a small red spiky fruit, is everywhere in bulk, as is the larger dragon fruit, a dramatic pink melon with larger appendages and a white, watermelon-like flesh dotted with hundreds of small seeds.

The commerce of Sa Dec goes on without paying us any mind, except for my friend Cameron, who attracts a great deal of attention. The vendors, particularly the women, show him their wares, and there’s always someone to describe things in English. Close up, we find a bag full of live chickens next to a pail with others, freshly-skinned. Live fish and frogs are at the next stall, followed by oversized carrots and turnips, and small, red-green tomatoes.

The market bustles with commerce, and our fellow passengers on the Toum Teave bring back clams and snails for lunch, which the crew happily prepares. The afternoon brings rain and a change of plans; we sail early for the border town of Chau Doc, which we tour in the rain by “cyclos,” one-seater tricycles with drivers. We have arrived at sunset, just in time for the evening government announcements. Tomorrow, after a short morning visit to a small village, we will cross the border into Cambodia. 

The River as Highway

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

The Toum Teave chugs all night, her engines alternately purring and puffing, a steady, soothing lullaby. A long, black-green night offers no clues about tomorrow, save the occasional passage of other boats – some large and well-lit, others small, appearing briefly in Captain Serge Prunier’s searchlight before disappearing in our wake.

A gray dawn breaks as we cruise the Cho Gao Canal, a gift from the 19-th Century French, who conceived it, and their Vietnamese prisoners, who did the work. Small freighters and fishing boats drift westward along with us; silt barges and produce boats race by as they head east. Everybody waves and smiles as we pass.

Later, the Mekong spreads before us, wide and sliver-tan in the morning sun. We turn north, hugging the eastern shore, until we arrive at My Tho, a thriving, sprawling city of low buildings that looks like what we imagined Saigon would be. The Temple of the Cao Dai religion, which worships the Gods of all major religions, is a riot of color and detail, including Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, and Confucius, along with dragons, chalices, egrets, and banners. 

The Buddhist Vinh Tran Temple is slightly more reserved inside, but opens to beautiful gardens and oversized statues, some under construction, as everything seems to be in Vietnam.

Which brings us back to the silt barges. A spirited debate on board the Toum Teave posits whether the Vietnamese people are simply clearing the river for navigation and commerce, or bringing raw material for the construction of Saigon and the Mekong’s many other cities. 

It turns out both sides are correct. One man’s silt is another man’s cinderblock.

The City Rises as a River Beckons

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

On our third day in Saigon, we’ve awakened before most of the motor bikers, in time for a short walk to the city’s parks, where a few early birds volley at badminton without nets, others stroll and talk, and several groups of twenty or more people gather for group calisthenics, surprisingly set to the beat of Madonna and “On the Bayou” in Vietnamese.

They alternately stretch, reach, and kick, some following a leader for encouragement, others following their own rhythm. One man stands silent, unmoving, his hands clasped in contemplation. nearby, a group of teenagers tumble, jump, and walk on their hands in pairs, obeying the commands of their coach, the one slightly closer to adulthood.

Soon enough, the motor scooters take over, bringing thousands of young couples to work. One by one, they stop at the sidewalk and step off; unlatching the seat, they trade her helmet for a purse and some lunch, kiss goodbye, close the seat lid, and move on separately to the start of their days.

A leisurely day of exploring gives way to an evening arrival at the Toum Teav, a boat that might have carried Humphrey Bogart or Lana Turner to a matinee adventure, all dark wood, white railings, and wicker deck chairs with red cushions. It’s inspiring, and makes all our eyes sparkle with anticipation.

Fittingly, we set sail at sunset, watching the impressive new skyline of Saigon fade into the distance, as we move along an increasingly dark river. Tomorrow is sure to bring a completely new world.

There are 8 Million Stories in Ho Chi Minh City...

Monday, September 19, 2011

...This is just one of them.

People tell you to be ready for the motor scooters, and they're right. Everyone seems to have one, and they carry everything on them: their families, and all sorts of goods for sale. They'll take you for a ride around town if you accept the offer, and it does look like fun.

What no one told me is how much Ho Chi Minh City wants to become a modern metropolis. The Bitexco Financial Tower, for example, rises 68 stories above downtown, and comes with a helipad and observation deck jutting out from the 50th floor. Until 2005, it was the tallest building in Viet Nam; this year, the Keangnam Hanoi Tower beat it by two stories. It may not be long before one of the local 24-hour construction projects tops that.

Today was a day for further explorations of the Saigon you expect to find: markets, museums, and landmarks. President Nguyen Van Thieu's Presidential Palace, now the Reunification Palace, has the same 1960s-era architecture you see in old photographs of the New York World's Fair, or Montreal's Expo 1968. But it has bunkers beneath, with war maps on the walls and folding metal doors at strategic intervals.

The photographs on museum walls are authentic; the construction of a new economic capital is earnest. The stories of Ho Chi Minh City may or may not be true, but they are told honestly, and with hope.

Where a war ended, a journey begins

Sunday, September 18, 2011


Having landed at Tan Son Nhat International Airport to begin our Road Scholar program in Ho Chi Minh City, I've left behind the Red Sox's struggles for a playoff spot, an early autumn chill in New England, and most things American.  During a long flight through New York and Hong Kong, I couldn't help but think of Viet Nam in forty-year-old terms, and hope that our fourteen-day journey on the Mekong will replace that country of myth and memory with a new appreciation for the magic and reality of a place created by the people who have called it  home for thousands of years.


Our first morning in the city brought us to Notre Dame Cathedral and the Main Post Office. While describing the history of these two buildings, Thoa, our Road Scholar guide, directed our attention a block to the east. There, below a gleaming new office tower, stood an unforgettable icon from American television news and weekly magazines so very long ago. 

The Fall of Saigon, South Viet Nam, April 30, 1975

The Same Building this morning, September 18, 2011