So what do a 2'x 4' pane of glass, a 40-gallon basket of piglets, two flat screen TVs, a hog, two tourists, 47 watermelon-sized squash, and a Vietnamese family with twins have in common?
They can all fit on the back of a small motorcycle. (Actually, if it was Cambodia, they'd all be on the back of the SAME motorcylce!) These drivers are amazing!!! Who needs a station wagon when you can carry all that you need on a 2-wheeler?
We rented a motorcylce today and drove 48 kilometers up into the foothills to explore so Cham ruins. Except for a few short rides in Cambodia, I haven't been on a motorcycle since I was a kid. Andy grew up riding, and so we felt safe enough, particularly in this rural area where the traffic is mostly other 2-wheeled vehicles. It was so fun going at our own pace (not dependent on a driver or having to negotiate fares). The seat was fairly uncomfortable for our big gringo derriers, but the thrill of the adventure far outweighed our aching backsides.
About 2/3 of the way through the trip we stopped for a photo op in the middle of a little village. As I was taking pics of a woman carrying huge baskets overflowing with ....something?...., a very old man came out of his house and crossed the street to talk with Andy. He spoke a small amount of English, and was giving Andy directions up to My Son (the ruins where we were headed). He looked to be in his 80s, so thin of frame that his chest and abdomen were concave, either by age or poor nutrition. But he carried the friendliest smile, and a genuine interest in helping us understand where to go. As we started to put away the camera to leave, in his couple of broken words of English, we understood him to say he was inviting us to his house for tea.
To say his home was modest is to overstate it. His bare cement, one-roomed home room contained a table and chairs, a thermos of hot water, a tea pot, three glasses, a few posters on the wall, and a mango. He shared his tea, mango and home with pride, all the while trying to communicate with us in Vietnamese, English and French (oh how I wish we spoke French!). We got that he used to be a French interpreter, but not much more than that. We were able to share that we have a son (showed pictures), and how old we are. Beyond that it was simply four souls (a neighbor joined us) trying to communicate across a language barrier beyond our abilities. Still. what an honor! He refused our offer of compensation for the mango, only wishing us well and sending us on our way. What a real privelege to be invited in a home, especially by someone who has seen many hard times. I can't see opportunities like this happening in America, with our closed houses, air-conditioned cars, and lifestyles that leave little time for anyone we don't already know.
As for the ruins -- they look like they're straight out of Indiana Jones (duh-duh-duh-DUH!). Over 1000 years old (I bet they didn't have building permit problems back then!), they have survived tropical storms and jungle. The rock is a different color than those at Angkor Wat. Almost a brick red, the contrast with lush green of the forest-jungle is striking.
More tomorrow --- it's bedtime here!
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