Tag: Cambodia

Beyond Angkor Wat

Travel beyond the town


which serves Cambodia’s gilded temples


and you’ll find


dusty terracotta paths


which will cake your lips in their crumbs


spanning endless horizons


across lands parched


where the landscape is frank.


Painted wooden houses



perch perilously on sticks


and women crouch

in the midday sun

sifting shrimp

for a few dollars


whilst their bare footed children

wave when I tread through their village

or who I find working (in muddy pits).


I searched for the signs of  development


in the dusty paths


and in the swampy fields



and I wondered


why it is


that the wealth in all the tourist dollars


that sieve through


Angkor Wat’s templed paths


and Siem Reap’s backpacker filled streets


but a short journey away


don’t drip their fruits

this way






Have you tried a Cambodian fruit shake?



I spent a long afternoon blowing my mind learning about Cambodia’s incredible history at the National Museum of Cambodia. As I walked back, I followed the meandering Siem Reap River, which flows like a heartbeat through the town.


My pace was initially buoyant but I soon succumbed to a wearisome limp as I fell victim to the claustrophobic Cambodian afternoon heat.


Adjacent to Siem Reap’s infamous Pub Street, and within walking distance of the river, you’ll stumble across a maze of little carts tightly packed together at the roadside’s edge dishing out fresh fruit-shakes, fizzy drinks, ice cones, crepes and tiny water snails sold freshly cooked on the street.


The little carts are attached to motorcycles. Locals, from the surrounding villages, travel into town pulling their carts along before sunrise, closing up and heading homewards late into the night. Siem Reap is a town that rarely sleeps.


It’s not unusual to see whole families sitting aboard these tiny motorcycles, balancing precariously, and clinging on to each other as the bike, swerving to avoid giant potholes embellishing the roads (as the infrastructure creaks under the rate of development), teeters dangerously to one side.


I stop at a little cart owned by a lady named Dara. She tells me that her name means ‘star’ in Khmer. She asks my name, and has difficulty pronouncing it (I tell her not to worry as English speaking people can’t pronounce it either). Smiling at me, she settles for calling me Laya.

Tuk-tuks with foreigners sitting in the back snapping pictures on expensive cameras, and selfie sticks pointing towards their pouting faces, fly past next to us.

Thrusting a sticky plastic menu into my hands, she reels off a range of delicious flavours to choose from. Settling on  apple and pineapple, she cuts the fruit up into little chunks and whizzes them up in the blender.

As she pours iced coconut water into the gooey mixture, a lady from a souveneir shop, situated on the sidewalk behind the cart, ventures forward shouting towards Dara. She has a broom in her hand, and knocks a small chair (belonging to Dara) into the road. Dara’s young child, who sits with her all day, runs into the road to retrieve the chair. Ex-pats sit behind laptops, sipping European coffee, in the exclusive hotel across the way pretending not to stare.

Another shop keeper comes out to calm the fracas and leads the agitated shop-keeper back indoors.

Dara spoons 3 sizeable gelatinous dollops of sweetened condensed milk into the drink and switches the blender back on, all the while having ignored the commotion taking place behind her. Backpackers walk past us in their gap-year ‘I’ve found myself and helped the world digging toilets in rural Cambodia and now I’m gonna drink loads of beer‘ pants.

I ask her what’s just happened?

‘What am I supposed to do’ she tells me. ‘I have to make a living. This woman doesn’t like my stall outside her shop but where am I to go’. ‘I have to make a living’ she repeats.

Street vending across developing countries is a politicised issue. As a  relatively accessible occupation for many in Cambodia (and around the globe), these kind of economic activities often absorb a significant proportion of women into the labour market. These are women who would otherwise be excluded and marginalised as a result of factors such as: poverty, gender/social inequality and lack of access to education.

In a report by the International Labour Office (on the borders of legality, a review of studies of street vending) it was reported that in Phnom Penh, for instance, almost all of the street vendors were women. And yet, many undertaking these kinds of activities find themselves in a vulnerable position. Their physical space, and entitlement to their livelihood is not guaranteed, and they are left in precarious positions, despite contributing to the state through legitimate taxes, wondering if/when their stall will be closed up or moved on.

I pay Dara the equivalent of about 20 pence for the drink. We say goodbye. Her daughter waves at me.


Tonle Sap Lake, Cambodia


Tonle Sap Lake (also known as the Great Lake) runs through the heart of Cambodia, situated on the central plains.  It is a lake that is big enough to almost  be mistaken for an ocean (almost!). It is also the biggest freshwater lake in the whole of South East Asia!

If you visit the Great Lake you will find thriving fishing communities made up of floating villages perching  on bamboo stilts which skim the surface of the gentle waves.


The lake changes vastly according to the season. During rainy season expect your journey time across the lake to increase as the water levels rise with the mighty  Mekong River flooding down its channels and pouring into the lake.


During the dry season you will see the water levels retreat (your boat may even get stuck in the muddy dunes and groups of young children will come running over eager to help push you out of this muddy fix).  The dry season allows you to glimpse the  depths the lake will soon reach. The houses perch upon thin and incredibly high wooden bamboo poles which will latterly become submerged by the rising waters. At the peak of the dry season the lake is 4-6 times smaller than it ordinarily is.


Tonle Sap Lake has enormous significance for Cambodians. It is home to more than 200 varieties of fish providing food to more than 3 million people. It also  provides a valuable resource that sources livelihoods for the people living on and around the lake, and it acts as a flood mediator for the Mighty Mekong (with its importance thereby reaching far beyond Cambodia).


Most residents are self sufficient. Vibrant communities have transformed these waters. There are schools, petrol stations even, lots of chickens!!, markets and even karaoke bars to be found bobbing away. The communities that perch on the water or on the waters edge are testimony to the resilience of the Cambodian people fighting for survival. The lake flows through the lives of these communities. Boats weave through the floating houses. Children play in the water.  Women dry shell fish. Boats laden with fruit furrow past.  Steaming pots of bubbling broths boil away filling the air with delicious smells which permeate the heavy lingering smell of burning wood that hangs throughout most Cambodian villages. Whilst the people are certainly poor there is a deep vibrancy to these communities. There is also an underlying sadness (it is impossible to forget and not see the echoes of the  Khmer Rouge genocide which was not so distant that many Cambodians still carry these memories first hand).


I accessed the lake from the north, a short drive of about 20 km from Siem Reap. Be prepared for a bumpy journey. I do mean a very bumpy journey from a road that just keeps on giving!