Sunday March 15th
A colleague from the POE (Provincial Office of Education) arrived Friday afternoon 06th March about 1100hrs to present his work plan for inspection for the next six months. Great thinks I forward planning but then it becomes clear that we leave for the first inspection on Tuesday 10th March with a meeting Tuesday morning (Monday is International Women’s Day holiday) to clarify roles and other logistics. We met and left the meeting not much better informed but in sufficient time to purchase a few essentials for the trip such as a hammock with mosquito net as we may be sleeping outdoors due to the remote nature of some of the schools proposed on the inspection.
Just returned from my first inspection visit to schools in a district called Keo Sima (pronounced cosy mar!). This part of the adventure began on Tuesday 10th March leaving by a motor cycle convoy of four bikes at 1300hrs. The journey takes about two hours (providing no hazards e.g. breakdown issues, punctures etc, etc, etc) on the ‘main road’ to PNH through the jungle.
The dirt road has improved considerably since we arrived. There has been a tremendous amount of activity by the road construction crews. Great swathes of track have been widened, a sort of ‘real road
sub-base’ laid, drainage sections installed and bridge supports erected all in the six months since our arrival. All this activity began roughly as we arrived which coincided with the demise of the rainy season and the withdrawal of the Mondulkiri ‘red’ (the thick gooey mud caused by the heavy rainfall and constant churning of the kamikaze pick up drivers).
The road crews are made up of men and women with seemingly no differentiation in task. It also seems that they trawl their families with them and live on-site under tarpaulin covers with a charcoal burner for food preparation. They seem to work
everyday and scale all sorts of bamboo scaffolding with all the safety protection afforded by flip flops and a croma (traditional scarf) for head shade / protection. The only hard hats we have seen are worn by the construction chiefs and one used for a crash helmet on a motor cycle! Although there is still a huge amount of work to be done the progress is impressive considering the manual techniques used and the very hot working conditions.
The journey of about 60km seems much longer and traverses all sorts of road conditions and scenic vistas (although I’m too preoccupied in controlling this feral beast of a bike and just staying on to notice the scenery,
which I’m told is very nice – must try to open my eyes long enough to see sometime!). The road begins well with several kilometres of ‘very good’ track and we make splendid progress. This slowly deteriorates as we approach the most inaccessible bit, the jungle section. Here there is much work being carried out and a lot of heavy plant (always makes me laugh!) moving tens of thousands of cubic tonnes of soil, rock etc, etc, This of course makes for a bumpy passage with very difficult terrain, often losing the road and having to avoid the kamikaze, diggers, huge lorries, massive pot holes and, of course, my poor bike control. VSO never mentioned any danger money payment for stunt riding!
Where no road building is taking place there are seemingly endless sections of jungle track with boulder moguls highly polished, with honed edges just awaiting for the inexperienced! After a tortuous maze like route and a free vibrato massage we amazingly pass unscathed and continue towards our goal, Koe Sema.
We duly arrive two hours later very, very, very dusty and go directly to a meeting to inform the local DOE of our arrival and discuss our intent! (DOE = Director of Education and his team. Don’t read too much into titles
which bear little resemblance to those in the UK). After a considerable amount of dialogue the meeting closed and Veasna (my translator) and I head for the local guest house. The rooms seem fairly well apportioned even with a T.V but on further inspection I discover the room has not been cleaned since the previous ‘guest’, whenever that was, with wash basin grubby and the washing / toilet facilities with the odour of stale pee – nice! Yet another Cambodia contradiction – you take off your shoes and leave them by the door when entering then end up walking into a potential pathogen heaven where all manner of things lurk for the unprepared. On the positive side I notice a big double bed, suppose I should be grateful!
We immediately dump our belongings and head for something to eat at the local hostelry, which is written in Khmer undecipherable
to me so I anglicise it into the imaginatively “Dove and Minor” ( because they have a Dove in one hanging cage, and a Minor bird adjacent in another!) This simple act brings me comfort as I drift into UK mode imagining a good old British pint. Rudely woken from my hallucination or was it a mirage? I was invited to select my repast from the ubiquitous aluminium pots. This immediately brought the horrors flooding back of our stay in Kampong Cham during language training. Food cooked early in the morning then sits there (with a lid!) for the rest of the day (or perhaps even days) until it is sold. A gourmet paradise for salmonella and other assorted gastro-intestinal infestation. On closer inspection I declined ‘scanner soup’ (pieces of ‘stuff’ which looks like it has been sectioned ready for microscopic examination made up of liver, brain and who knows what or from what animal, I’m sure one piece even winked at me!). Other pots contained a murky dark brown colour with a delightful sulphurous odour. I half expected to lift one lid and be dragged into it, probably served next day to other unsuspecting travellers – clever idea, self perpetuating food preparation! Anyway I did eat something cold with the ever present supply of boring, tasteless, insipid, dreary rice (as you might suspect I’m not a fan. However, if the locals don’t eat it three times a day they believe they will die!)
So fully satiated I head for bed. The room is just hot enough to fry eggs even with the fan on full. What worried me more was the bri-nylon cover. I was sure that moving too quickly during the night would result in converting the kinetic energy into heat resulting in spontaneous combustion. Another ‘Khmer Triangle’ mystery – charred body found, bed still in tact! I solved this problem by showering about ten times during the night to cool down and lying on the damp towel.
Next morning, we waited for the food to be finished cooking and ate. I have to say it tasted very good freshly cooked, even the rice (now I’m starting to worry – or was I just extremely hungry?)
Off we toddle, on our bikes, to inspection. I’ll not dwell on this as it’s too painful for me to write about it and probably more so for you to read. Suffice to say that data is looked at, lessons observed and then some issues discussed with such monotony and repeated over and over and over, you probably get the picture. People just glaze over after the ‘n’th time. However, the Khmer have an astounding ability to sleep with their eyes open. A skill I must learn whilst I’m here. Apparently it’s a cultural thing that the more you speak the more important you are (or is it impotent – maybe I’ve misunderstood the translation!)
The second day we start again at 0630hrs but we go deep into jungle country to a very remote village. It took two hours to reach covering approx fifteen kilometres. On reflection this was in fact the highlight of the trip. People would pay good money for the experience – extreme biking. We travelled through forest on narrow tracks, avoiding large roots, low branches (for which my scratched visor will testify) and steep
single track sand /gravel paths. Other joys consisted of steep rocky ravines, fording a two – three foot deep river and a forty five degree river bank the other side, across dried rice paddies where oxen foot holes had dried sufficiently to make your eyes rattle as you crossed. I thought this would make a brilliant Alton Towers extreme ride for adults only. It also crossed my mind, via my backside, that the rocks, roots, branches etc were part of an animation sequence aka ‘Tim Burton’. I imagined that all were conspiring, willing me to fall from my bike to be gobbled up and lost forever.
Just a note about the bike. Whoever created the magnificent beast, the Honda Dream 125cc, ought to receive design award of the century. It performs well beyond its benign exterior. It is unstinting in furnishing protection and such durability when presented with harsh punishment. One complaint however is that as a consequence I have now developed a condition I call glutimus maximus sorricuss or commonly called inspection arse! Oh and by the way I did not have to use the hammock! And we meet on Monday to discuss our findings (again, oh joy!)
A colleague from the POE (Provincial Office of Education) arrived Friday afternoon 06th March about 1100hrs to present his work plan for inspection for the next six months. Great thinks I forward planning but then it becomes clear that we leave for the first inspection on Tuesday 10th March with a meeting Tuesday morning (Monday is International Women’s Day holiday) to clarify roles and other logistics. We met and left the meeting not much better informed but in sufficient time to purchase a few essentials for the trip such as a hammock with mosquito net as we may be sleeping outdoors due to the remote nature of some of the schools proposed on the inspection.
Just returned from my first inspection visit to schools in a district called Keo Sima (pronounced cosy mar!). This part of the adventure began on Tuesday 10th March leaving by a motor cycle convoy of four bikes at 1300hrs. The journey takes about two hours (providing no hazards e.g. breakdown issues, punctures etc, etc, etc) on the ‘main road’ to PNH through the jungle.
The dirt road has improved considerably since we arrived. There has been a tremendous amount of activity by the road construction crews. Great swathes of track have been widened, a sort of ‘real road
sub-base’ laid, drainage sections installed and bridge supports erected all in the six months since our arrival. All this activity began roughly as we arrived which coincided with the demise of the rainy season and the withdrawal of the Mondulkiri ‘red’ (the thick gooey mud caused by the heavy rainfall and constant churning of the kamikaze pick up drivers).The road crews are made up of men and women with seemingly no differentiation in task. It also seems that they trawl their families with them and live on-site under tarpaulin covers with a charcoal burner for food preparation. They seem to work
everyday and scale all sorts of bamboo scaffolding with all the safety protection afforded by flip flops and a croma (traditional scarf) for head shade / protection. The only hard hats we have seen are worn by the construction chiefs and one used for a crash helmet on a motor cycle! Although there is still a huge amount of work to be done the progress is impressive considering the manual techniques used and the very hot working conditions.The journey of about 60km seems much longer and traverses all sorts of road conditions and scenic vistas (although I’m too preoccupied in controlling this feral beast of a bike and just staying on to notice the scenery,
which I’m told is very nice – must try to open my eyes long enough to see sometime!). The road begins well with several kilometres of ‘very good’ track and we make splendid progress. This slowly deteriorates as we approach the most inaccessible bit, the jungle section. Here there is much work being carried out and a lot of heavy plant (always makes me laugh!) moving tens of thousands of cubic tonnes of soil, rock etc, etc, This of course makes for a bumpy passage with very difficult terrain, often losing the road and having to avoid the kamikaze, diggers, huge lorries, massive pot holes and, of course, my poor bike control. VSO never mentioned any danger money payment for stunt riding!Where no road building is taking place there are seemingly endless sections of jungle track with boulder moguls highly polished, with honed edges just awaiting for the inexperienced! After a tortuous maze like route and a free vibrato massage we amazingly pass unscathed and continue towards our goal, Koe Sema.
We duly arrive two hours later very, very, very dusty and go directly to a meeting to inform the local DOE of our arrival and discuss our intent! (DOE = Director of Education and his team. Don’t read too much into titles
which bear little resemblance to those in the UK). After a considerable amount of dialogue the meeting closed and Veasna (my translator) and I head for the local guest house. The rooms seem fairly well apportioned even with a T.V but on further inspection I discover the room has not been cleaned since the previous ‘guest’, whenever that was, with wash basin grubby and the washing / toilet facilities with the odour of stale pee – nice! Yet another Cambodia contradiction – you take off your shoes and leave them by the door when entering then end up walking into a potential pathogen heaven where all manner of things lurk for the unprepared. On the positive side I notice a big double bed, suppose I should be grateful!We immediately dump our belongings and head for something to eat at the local hostelry, which is written in Khmer undecipherable
to me so I anglicise it into the imaginatively “Dove and Minor” ( because they have a Dove in one hanging cage, and a Minor bird adjacent in another!) This simple act brings me comfort as I drift into UK mode imagining a good old British pint. Rudely woken from my hallucination or was it a mirage? I was invited to select my repast from the ubiquitous aluminium pots. This immediately brought the horrors flooding back of our stay in Kampong Cham during language training. Food cooked early in the morning then sits there (with a lid!) for the rest of the day (or perhaps even days) until it is sold. A gourmet paradise for salmonella and other assorted gastro-intestinal infestation. On closer inspection I declined ‘scanner soup’ (pieces of ‘stuff’ which looks like it has been sectioned ready for microscopic examination made up of liver, brain and who knows what or from what animal, I’m sure one piece even winked at me!). Other pots contained a murky dark brown colour with a delightful sulphurous odour. I half expected to lift one lid and be dragged into it, probably served next day to other unsuspecting travellers – clever idea, self perpetuating food preparation! Anyway I did eat something cold with the ever present supply of boring, tasteless, insipid, dreary rice (as you might suspect I’m not a fan. However, if the locals don’t eat it three times a day they believe they will die!)So fully satiated I head for bed. The room is just hot enough to fry eggs even with the fan on full. What worried me more was the bri-nylon cover. I was sure that moving too quickly during the night would result in converting the kinetic energy into heat resulting in spontaneous combustion. Another ‘Khmer Triangle’ mystery – charred body found, bed still in tact! I solved this problem by showering about ten times during the night to cool down and lying on the damp towel.
Next morning, we waited for the food to be finished cooking and ate. I have to say it tasted very good freshly cooked, even the rice (now I’m starting to worry – or was I just extremely hungry?)
Off we toddle, on our bikes, to inspection. I’ll not dwell on this as it’s too painful for me to write about it and probably more so for you to read. Suffice to say that data is looked at, lessons observed and then some issues discussed with such monotony and repeated over and over and over, you probably get the picture. People just glaze over after the ‘n’th time. However, the Khmer have an astounding ability to sleep with their eyes open. A skill I must learn whilst I’m here. Apparently it’s a cultural thing that the more you speak the more important you are (or is it impotent – maybe I’ve misunderstood the translation!)
The second day we start again at 0630hrs but we go deep into jungle country to a very remote village. It took two hours to reach covering approx fifteen kilometres. On reflection this was in fact the highlight of the trip. People would pay good money for the experience – extreme biking. We travelled through forest on narrow tracks, avoiding large roots, low branches (for which my scratched visor will testify) and steep
single track sand /gravel paths. Other joys consisted of steep rocky ravines, fording a two – three foot deep river and a forty five degree river bank the other side, across dried rice paddies where oxen foot holes had dried sufficiently to make your eyes rattle as you crossed. I thought this would make a brilliant Alton Towers extreme ride for adults only. It also crossed my mind, via my backside, that the rocks, roots, branches etc were part of an animation sequence aka ‘Tim Burton’. I imagined that all were conspiring, willing me to fall from my bike to be gobbled up and lost forever.Just a note about the bike. Whoever created the magnificent beast, the Honda Dream 125cc, ought to receive design award of the century. It performs well beyond its benign exterior. It is unstinting in furnishing protection and such durability when presented with harsh punishment. One complaint however is that as a consequence I have now developed a condition I call glutimus maximus sorricuss or commonly called inspection arse! Oh and by the way I did not have to use the hammock! And we meet on Monday to discuss our findings (again, oh joy!)
No comments:
Post a Comment