Pov the Cyclo Driver goes to the Lake, Siem Reap, Cambodia

March 2009

When we were in Siem Reap we splurged and bought seven-day passes to 'Angkor Wat.' We didn't spend all day tramping around temples, but started late, around 10:30, when the large groups of tourists were already leaving to go to fancy restaurants for lunch, and ended most days by 3:30 or 4. We took our time, as long as we wanted, looking at the awesome stonework, the beautiful and intricate sculptures. We just sat in the midst of the ruins and imagined the spectacular ceremonies that might have occurred there.

We hired a great cyclo driver named Pov (pronounced 'Bo'), who drove us from temple to temple, waiting for us as we explored. He was lovely. Careful, considerate, and always ready with a wonderful warm smile. Once our week of temple-hopping was done, we asked Pov to take us out to the biggest lake in Cambodia. It's a lake fed by the mighty Mekong, and it's level changes dramatically depending on the season. There are a number of famous 'floating villages' on the lake that tourists go out to see, generally in large groups on special 'tourist boats.'

We dislike tours, and had decided we didn't want to be part of that scene, but just wanted to take a drive in the country and see the lake. We'd been advised by several travellers, and by the blurb in our guidebook, that we would not be able to get anywhere near the lake unless we went on a tour, but we decided to give it a try anyway. We're intrepid that way... .

We drove out through paddy fields and small villages, following the course of a stinking polluted 'river' into which poured all the sewage and garbage from houses and shops all along it. We saw kids swimming in it and women bathing in it. It's all they've got.

As we neared the lake a couple of guys on motorcycles came up beside us and motioned for us to stop. Pov finally did, although he knew we were not going to want to talk to these guys. They were trying to sell us $15 tickets (each) for a boat ride on the lake. We just kept repeating “no boat, no boat,” and finally they gave up with us. Pov got quite a kick out of all this, and although his English was very limited, he was clear about one thing: we did not want to take a boat out onto the lake.

A little further on down the road, now almost at the lake, we were motioned to stop at the 'Boat Tour Operators Committee' centre. The guy who motioned us over looked almost like a police man. Pov stopped; he seemed a little anxious. The guy started in on us about how we had to buy tickets for a boat trip and how we couldn't go any further down the road. I was having none of it. I just repeated my mantra, “no boat,” and added “now going, now going down road.” And motioned for Pov to go.

The official looking guy gave up, and off went Pov, at this point almost delirious with his association with people with such power. He was grinning from ear to ear.

Then we got to 'the lake.' But of course it wasn't the lake at all. It was what looked like a land-fill – a vast expanse of bare dirt covered in litter and bisected by a muddy river lined with....more litter and a gaggle of tour boats! There was a kiosk and a barrier across the road. But now Pov was feeling empowered. He barely slowed down as he yelled to the two guards that his passengers were just going to take a look at the lake, not ride in a boat, and we sailed right around the kiosk. I loved it! Good for Pov!

Then there we were, looking down on the pathetic sight of a muddy litter-filled river and a lake nowhere in sight. A young fellow came up and asked if we'd like to go out to the lake in his boat. “Where is it?” I asked. He pointed down the river. It was a small boat, with maybe a dozen seats. “How much?” I asked. “Thirty dollars.” “Twenty,” we countered. “O.K.” he agreed, without a moment's hesitation, “twenty.” “And,” I added, “our driver comes with us.” The guy looked dubious. “Twenty-five,” he said. You have to pay for the driver. “He's Cambodian!” I exclaimed. “He shouldn't have to pay. And he has to come,” I added, darkly, “he's our body-guard.” The guy laughed and said “o.k., $23.”

Pov was thrilled. This was the first time he'd been out to the lake, and definitely his first time in a 'tourist boat.' He stretched out in one of the seats at the back and drank everything in.

It took around 10 minutes to motor down the river and get to the lake. The floating village was right there. It was pretty interesting – quite a large and very permanent collection of buildings – houses, stores, schools, restaurants – all loosely grouped together. Some were on stilts, some were more like barges. Many were colourfully painted; some were pretty dilapidated. It was a real community, interestingly of mostly Vietnamese (not Cambodian) fishermen.

We stopped at a restaurant and tourist trap store that had a cage filled with crocodiles. There was also an enclosure filled with big flapping fish. Pov enjoyed hob-nobbing with the tourists, looking at the crocodiles, laughing at the fish. When we got back to the boat there he was, sitting in the driver's seat pretending to drive the boat, a huge smile on his face. Just that image alone – of Pov lost in childlike glee at the wheel of that boat – was worth the entire trip to me. There was no time for a photo – it's a memory I'll have to keep in my mind.