A Living Canvas

 

Cambodia never ceases to amaze me. It is a treasure chest of excitement, diversity and wonder. Much like elsewhere in the world. However, in The Kingdom of Wow, as it is lovingly referred to, the magic is to be found in the simple things. Things that many may not even notice. This was evident as I wandered through the seaside town of Kep. 

Established in 1908 on the coast of southern Cambodia, Kep seemingly exists under a cloak of tranquillity. The sleepy Gulf of Thailand stretches out beyond the white beach, exposing Rabbit Island on the horizon. At first glance, the place seems deserted. And so it remained for most of my ten days there. People go about their daily chores in an aura of calm and contentment. Until Sundays arrive. 

A tsunami of humanity converges on the sleepy town. It thunders around the one corner leading into Kep. Spreading its powerful presence along the streets, filtering into the markets, on any open patch of land and across the beach. The resounding rumble of dozens of motos reverberates through the heart and soul of the town. The leaders of each tsunami wave hold untold power over their followers. Revving the engines of their bikes to full capacity whilst they decide on which spot to introduce their existence. The rest of the task force linger with bated breath. Waiting for the nod of approval. In the sweltering heat of the day, plastic leather jackets glisten in sun. The young girls sitting side-saddle, take selfies continuously. They keep silent whilst their master’s voice is being heard. Their white lace dresses a sharp contrast to their situation. 

Convoys of threatening 4x4’s appear intermittently amidst this sea of motos. Their droning, idling engines bursting through what was quiet Kep a few hours earlier. Once again, the lack of order on the roads boggles my mind.  But it works perfectly well. Thanks to the beautiful, gentle natures of the Khmer people. And the respect they clearly have for one another.

A riot of colour, sound and activity fills each Sunday here. My senses are immediately on high alert. Perhaps the aromas of freshly grilled meat and garlic on open flames have something to do with it. Within minutes of the human tsunami arriving in town, the world before me changes into a wonderland of sorts. Brightly coloured umbrellas and plastic chairs and tables cover every inch of the narrow pavements. Alongside the incredible frangipanis. Adding a touch of joy and festivities to the usually dull tar. 

Jackfruits, rambutans, seafood and an array of plastic gadgets and toys smother wagons in colour and textures. Sounds amplify as each group of people laughs louder, increases their yelling and the music blasts forth. It is all so happy. So friendly and so human.

As I make my way through the crowds, the calm of the sea beckons me to a quieter spot. An expansive concrete shelter – devoid of walls – provides a base for an endless array of hammocks. Before humanity arrives, there is an aura of silent eeriness embracing the structure. As though the humans had been abducted by some unseen force. The hammocks lie waiting for their return.

An hour later, the hammocks support many, many bodies of all shapes and sizes. Each one contributing to the cacophony of voices and laughter. The place is alive. The energy pulsates. Hundreds of people have picnics in the hammocks, under the hammocks and beside the hammocks. It is a wonderful scene to behold. An incredibly rich cultural experience. I am deeply touched seeing so many people coming together in an atmosphere of happiness and fun. Once again, respect for one another enables this to happen.

I walk further afield along the sea. The brilliant sunshine on my back. More hammocks greet me. Some in black. Others of colour. The simplicity of the everyday scenes unfolding along the way is where the magic is to be found. It’s those little things in life that hold so much power. That have so much effect on everything and everyone. One simply needs to slow down and look through eyes that see. See the many wonders that make up humans. Recognise their gifts and skills. How they survive with very little in their environment. 

I love witnessing people go about their daily lives. It thrills me. It brings with it a deeper understanding of the culture, the country and of course, the people. Through the years of living in China and Southeast Asia, my life has been enriched by those I’ve met along the way. No matter who they are. No matter their status in society. I have met them and learnt from them. I thank them. 

Until the early seventies, Kep-sur-Mer was used by the elite French and Cambodians as a retreat to escape the brutal heat of Phnom Penh. The villas must have been splendid. I only manage to see two of these grand old ladies. They still exude an aura of absolute elegance. These villas have suffered long and painful destruction as a result of many evils. The Khmer Rouge destroyed many of them during the war. The harsh tropical climate ate away at those beautiful creations. Abandonment and decades of neglect played their part and it has been said that local residents stripped the villas of the valuable parts. To then be exchanged in Vietnam for rice and cash. 

One of the most bizarre sights greet me. Literally a field of showers exists on the roadside. Giggles consume me as I visualize people using them. How strange that would look to passersby.  I then think about the snakes in that heavy undergrowth and depart rapidly. I am in search of the famous crab meals for which Kep is famous. Wonderfully fresh crabmeat served in a variety of dishes. Each prepared in its own unique way. My mouth is watering at the thought of crab meat submerged in a pool of garlic and lemon butter. I hold this delicious image in my mind as I walk on. Lost in thought. I am happy. I am unbelievably content. 

Suddenly I stumble upon an area where energies, bursts of colour and intense activity take my emotions to the next level. My excitement soars. I stand in awe of what I am witnessing. The vibe is tangible. No other tourists. Just me amidst the vibrant bustle of what is everyday life here. People patiently await the arrival of the boats. Each boat quite magnificent in its cloak of colour. I sit quietly. Trying to absorb this magic I have found. I feel I need to protect what is unfolding before me. It is that precious. That exhilarating.

The boats arrive. Laden with the treasured crabs. The crowd scramble to receive their daily quota. All the time, being respectful to one another. Many sit down right there on the ground and begin the process of sorting their goods. Grateful for that which will earn them the means to survive another day. These people are generally poor in terms of money. But they possess that incredibly strong sense of community and caring for one another. That alone is wealth.

A few hours pass by. I remain blissfully content. The crowd has slowly subsided. Vast amounts of crab have been transported in the most effective form of local transport. A reminder to me of just how resilient and proactive these people are. The nets, all neatly folded up for the following day, added texture to the wooden boats on which they lay. The fishermen, clearly tired but still smiling, put an end to their workday. Securing those magnificent boats to the rocks on the shore with ropes. I linger a while longer. The magic is mine to witness.