"I THINK WE NEED MORE ANTS"

SIEM REAP, CAMBODIA

Temperature: 31 degrees Celsius

Track of the day: 'Meat Shake' - Ugly Ducklings

"I hope there's not too many people on this tour," I say to Alecs as we sit in the naturally abundant guesthouse lobby waiting for 'The Villa Siem Reap' to pick us up at 7:50AM. Today we are heading to the Cambodian countryside for a 'Day in the Life of a Villager," tour which benefits the community. We first heard of this program from a brochure we picked up at the Singing Tree Cafe (a little cafe that supports good causes for Cambodians) and since it was next

door to Good Na Restaurant we decided to just book it. We are unsure what today will bring, but hopeful that we will have another exciting experience. A man introduces himself as Lim and leads us to a van waiting with two people - the extent of tourists on this tour. We both grin excitedly about being part of a small group and make friendly conversat

ion with the two Australians. "So today we will visit a small village 18 km outside of Siem Reap," Lim tel

ls us as the van weaves past two motorbikes and a tuk-tuk. Our host family is one of the poorest in the village and some of the proceeds go directly to them while the rest helps build bio sand water filters in the village. We take a right turn and the paved concrete roads becomes a bumpy dirt one that curves past rice fields and straight into a sprawling village. We stop at the village leaders house where we can see the inner workings of one of the donated bio-sand water filters coloured in purple for 'The Villa.' Two 'Lexus's' are summoned to take us further afield and they arrive moments later looking strangely like an Oxcart and Cattle-Wagon. We climb onto the bamboo wagon with a local villager and his son for the 15 minute bumpy ride. We arrive at our family for the day's home, a falling apart one room hut built of  bamboo and palm leaves. "This morning we will help this family by sewing the roof panels together with palm tree leaves and bamboo," Lim says laying a bamboo rug across the ground for us to sit. "This is exciting," I say to Alecs, "we're actually learning something practical." We learn to sew the leaves onto the bamboo rods creating panels for both the roof and exterior walls and do our best to help out the family. I prick my finger slightly as I thread the bamboo needle through a folded leaf. "I think I need a bamboo thimble," I joke getting back to work. It's nearing the middle of the day and it's time for us to cook our indigenous lunch. The host mother returns, baby on hip with a freshly caught fish from the lake that is to be lunch. "Your job," Lim tells me, "is to cut the lemongrass and garlic and mash it with fish paste and ants." Ants? I wonder to myself, I must have heard him wrong. I am given two large meat cleavers and a stone slab to begin slicing the veggies. "Here's the

ere's the fish-paste," Lim says placing the flakes of fermented fish that are as potent as one might be able to imagine. "Mash it until it becomes a paste," he adds while killing the fish that is to be lunch. Lim tells us he made a wish for the fish to become something better than a fish in his next life and thanked him for providing our lunch. "I love Buddhists," I say to Alecs. Alecs and the Australian guy follow Lim to a nearby tree with a bucket of water and return with a few handfuls of now-drowning red-ants. "He just stuck his hand in a nest and when they climbed up his arm he submerged it in water," Alecs says recounting their collection of the ants. A few moments later he comes out of the hut with a cup of ants spilling them onto my mixture of fermented fish paste, lemongrass and garlic. Trying to convince myself this is a rewarding experience that I should feel lucky to be doing I chop the ants up until they are no longer recognizable. "I think we need more ants," Lim says pouring a mixture of ants and maggots onto the slab. "Mmmmm

g a mixture of ants and maggots onto protein," Alecs says as I chop everything up, imagining they are M&M's. When the paste is good and pureed Lim scoops it into a banana leaf tossing it in the open flame below our cooking fish. The four of us carefully crawl into the narrow room with our host mother and her three children where we sit in a circle patiently awaiting and fearing our meal. We spoon rice into our bowls

and add the fish, ant and maggot paste in very small portions. "Here goes nothing," I say putting a teaspoon of the mixture to my mouth. Alecs waits in anticipation as I put in in my mouth, roll it over my tongue and swallow. "Salty," I say not liking the food at all but not feeling as disgusted as I might have thought. Alecs tries it as well and we both agree we cannot taste anything but the salty fish paste. A couple ladies from the village come over to see what's going on and score a few bites of our meal. Lim also brought along sandwiches, fruit kabobs and banana bread in case we didn't want to eat the meal we prepared. "How do I eat this," an older lady asks Lim in Khmer, referring to a tuna sandwich he gave her. Lim laughs and explain she needs to take the plastic wrap off and eat it with her fingers. Our host mom sits cross-legged breast-feeding the youngest girl while her youngest boy begins nodding off, head bobbing as he tries to stay awake. I offer some of the fruit kebobs to the family who is sitting beside me and Alecs passes down some banana bread. The kids relish in the sweet tastes of both, an exciting break from rice and ants. One of the women, a mother of 12 (2 are already dead from bad water) who came to visit talks to Lim in Khmer about Alecs. "She think you are Cambodian," Lim translates, "but she says Cambodian men are never with Caucasian women," he adds. Alecs laughs, "no I'm from the Philippines," he says and the women all nod at the word Philippines. They continue to tell us that they think 'white' women do not like Asian men because they never see them together - it's usually the other way around. We laugh together and talk about cultural differences and oddly the many similarities before getting back to work on the roof.  Once we have completed enough panels for the roof we are taken to the village primary school a short walk away. There aren't enough teachers for the four classrooms where children sit 4 or 5 to a desk. The principal of the school converted two of the concrete government donated classrooms to a library and an office for himself meaning some 40 children are outside in a bamboo hut. "The principal is not in today," Lim tells us as we walk past his empty office that could be utilized as a classroom. We shake our heads and a female teacher walks from one classroom to another teaching both rooms at 

the same time. Little girls and boys, excited to see foreigners wave at us, wanting to see their photo's on the camera screen. I snap a shot of three little boys at the back of the classroom, reaching my hand through the window to show them their photo. They all giggle at the sight of themselves in the camera, making our day. We stop and listen to children reciting Khmer words after the teacher, their little voices carrying through the air - the children of the future. The last stop on the trip is a tour of a silk making factory nearby which teaches poor villagers to learn the trade and become productive members of society. Our guide takes us past the fields of trees used to feed the silk worms before taking us to the actual worms. The male silk worm mates with the female for around 12 hours and then dies, after that the female gives birth to baby worms and proceeds to die also.

Before dying, the worms create a silk cocoon which is eventually processed into fine scarves, clothing, tablecloths and so much more. Following a small path we walk to the factory where we see the SEVERAL stages of production involved in making one silk item. 

Steps Involved in Making a Silk Scarf

1. Grow trees to feed silk worms
2. Feed and breed the silk worms
3. Allow them to create a cocoon
4. Boil the silk worm cocoon
   
5. Take the worm out of the cocoon
6. Unwind the cocoon
7. Clean the now unwound silk string
8. Feed the string onto a man-powered machine creating a reel.
9. Die the string the desired colour using things like sap
10. Manually create a pattern in the string by tying plastic in specific areas before dying it
11. Manually use a wooden machine to thread patterned clothing (how they manage this part I cannot understand)
12. Sell the final product

"Really makes you appreciate the work that goes into making one of those scarves," Alecs says as we leave the factory. "Ya, they actually don't charge enough given the labour involved," I add. A hoard of young Khmer women stand on the opposite side of a small pond from us giggling 

profusely and Alecs and I look at each other perplexed. We hear some music coming from the pond and as we get closer we can see a young boy (probably mid 20's) lip sinking to a song as a production crew films him. "He is a pop star in Cambodia," Lim tells us seeing the strange look on our faces, "they are shooting a karaoke video," he adds. We both laugh and spend a few minutes watching him and not understanding the loyal fan-following he has acquired. We are dropped off at the hotel, next door to Good Na Restaurant. Before heading there for dinner we pick up a beautiful outfit for Rattana's 6-month old daughter as well as a Khmer-English dictionary and a 'Guide to tourist attractions in Siem Reap' for him. When Rattana drops us off at our hotel a few hours later we present the gifts to him, thanking him for being such a great driver and guide. Tears well up in his eyes signaling our time to leave and we head back to our room to pack our bags. 

Tomorrow we are taking a 6-hour bus ride to Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia, and then we will head to a beach for a couple days before returning to Siem Reap for four more nights.

Until next time so long.

Alecs and Meg in Siem Reap

Ps. Some photo's were corrupted on our SD Card so there are no pictures from the school. Two videos survived and will be posted tonight - we're running out of time at this moment.