Michael Batson

The city of Kratie is 300 kilometres by road north of Phnom Penh, on the Mekong River.  Aside from some spectacular sunsets viewed over the river, the town is known for being home to some of the rarest dolphins in the world.  Tourism, so often the harbinger of extinction for so much and so many, has probably, to some extent, saved these creatures from disappearing altogether.

Though bus travel in Cambodia is much improved with many newer Hyundai models now available, our bus from Phnom Penh was a battered vehicle also of Korean origin.  Outside the capital, at Skun, the road divides with National Route Six heading north-west to Siem Reap and the famous temples of Angkor.  To head north, National Route Seven heads at first east to the Vietnam border before turning north in a circuitous route to Kratie and the provinces of Mondulkiri and Rattanakiri bordering Vietnam and Strung Treng bordering Laos.  At the provincial capital of Kompong Cham, the construction of a two-lane bridge over the Mekong has meant river crossings no longer require time consuming ferry crossings.

Compared with usual average speeds of 40-50 kilometres in most other parts of Cambodia (and considerably slower than that when I first visited here) the roads in this part of Cambodia are fast, and the farther north you travel the less the traffic.  At times the bus was speeding along at perhaps 100 kilometres an hour, speeds almost unheard in the sub-Mekong region unless you were travelling in Thailand, though as the speedometer was permanently disconnected, the gauge never moved from zero.  

Our seats were numbers three and four, the suicide seats, which afforded a great view of oncoming traffic, not always a welcoming sight.  At times three vehicles were competing for space on a road two lanes wide, not including motorbikes which clung to the roadsides.  The bus driver, who had dropped his assistant off at Kompong Cham, barely slowed to change the DVDs which belted out the usual monotonous Khmer karaoke.  Once in the middle of this procedure, he took a call on his mobile, and at full speed passed a road gang working on one lane of the road without bothering to slow down.  On corners, the entire rear of the vehicle would fail to follow the front in alignment, in effect sliding across the road with an accompanying smell of burning brakes and tyre rubber.

Administratively, Cambodia is divided, in ascending order, into commune, district and province.  The governor of Kratie province contributes to Cambodia’s ranking as one of the world’s most corrupt countries by refusing to hook-up the province’s electricity system to a national grid, despite offers from both the governments of Laos and Vietnam to join theirs.  The reason for this is that the governor has extensive private business interests in the supply and distribution of diesel generators, which the local population – provided they can afford to pay, which many cannot – is forced to run in order to have electricity.  Electricity in Cambodia is already expensive for most in any case.  To run the air-conditioning all day in a hotel in Phnom Penh will cost the hotel up to US$3-4 per day, this for a room which may cost US$12-15 per day.  

The definition of corruption according to the international watch dog, Transparency International, is along the lines of the use of public office by officials for private gain, a description clearly demonstrated by Kratie’s governor, and one that is unfortunately not at all exceptional in Cambodia.  

In his introduction to Phnom Penh – A Cultural and Literary History, author, academic, diplomat and long time Cambodia observer and author of many works on the sub-Mekong region, Milton Osborne, says that the nature of life in Cambodia is that the rich are powerful and the powerful are rich. “Normality” includes a government that accepts no challenge, and where unbridled corruption, including at the highest level of government, is a constant fact of life.  The word that is repeatedly used to sum up the character of contemporary Cambodia is “impunity”.  “If you are powerful with links to the government” says Osborne, “you may act without concern for the consequences of your actions.”  Foreigners need be aware of this, whether merely travelling through the country, but especially if operating a business that if successful may attract the jealous attention of the elite.  Then you should be very careful.

When checking into the hotel in Kratie, the Cambodian behind the desk said “lucky” when he noted my nationality in the register.  When I asked what he meant, he replied that New Zealand had been lucky to draw its opening match with Slovakia in the World Cup.  Indeed.  Interest in the world’s single largest sporting event

Kratie sits about 20 metres above the Mekong River levels in the dry season.  In the wet season, the level of the river will threaten to engulf the town.  Even now, the river is high, wide and fast with strong currents, and the rains have yet to begin.  The whole province was heavily bombed by the Americans during their war with Vietnam.  Unexploded ordnance blights this largely rural province.  A poster on the quayside announces the signing of the ban on cluster munitions, the so-called Oslo Agreement, of which Cambodia is a signatory, the United States, however, is not.  

During French colonial rule large rubber plantations were started and many still exist.  These can be seen along the road today on the drive north from Phnom Penh, both mature trees and lines of saplings.  Together with unexploded ordnance, workers in rural Cambodia face the daily threat of “biological landmines”, the pit viper, a highly venomous snake which strikes without warning.  In a country without ready access to quality affordable health care for most, and almost devoid of anti-venom, a single bite will likely result in the amputation of the affected lower limb, necessary in order to save the victim’s life, but rendering them useless for employment, in a nation without any formal social invalid’s assistance.

Mr Lucky was taking me and a friend on a motorcycle tour across the river to the island of Koh Trong, on to see the endangered Mekong dolphins, and later Samrok Mountain, a retreat for Buddhist monks.  Mr Lucky had saved US$1500 to buy a coveted Honda Wave motorcycle, only to have it stolen.  As insurance doesn’t exist in Cambodia, and the police are little interested in rendering any assistance by Western standards without financial inducement, he was now trying to save enough money to improve his English and go back to school after which he hoped to get a good job with a salary of US$200-300 per month.  

The provincial governor doesn’t appear to spend much on local transport infrastructure either.  Access to the ferry crossings are little more than dirt tracks, treacherous in the wet.  The ferries are converted long boats of varying sizes which vehicles and pedestrians are forced to board over rickety wooden ramps.  On the island side you have to wade through the water even to reach the river bank, through which must come all the necessities of life.  

Some boats are large enough to carry small trucks and are powered by six-cylinder truck engines.  Others are barely large enough for half-a dozen motorcycles and two tourists.  On the latter, a Khmer woman in pink pyjamas neatly pivoted her motorcycle 180 degrees using the kickstand as an axis, ready to exit the boat on the other side of the river.  She then climbed into a hammock made of fishnet and strung near the 18-horsepower Chinese diesel engine, before becoming engrossed in her copy of a glossy Cambodian gossip magazine.  The young Khmer operator dressed in pink shirt with upturned collars and a baseball cap of sparkling blue then collected the fares of 1000 riels per person (US$0.25).

The island, three kilometres wide and nearly nine long, is now largely deforested.  The building of new wooden houses is banned, though this appears to be somewhat loosely enforced.  Those families with enough land will have to become rice farmers in order to survive.  It is unclear what other families will do to survive, though on the evidence  it is unlikely that the provincial government will be providing any assistance.  Some small mills – family affairs – still operate under houses.  Here and there are pieces of tropical hardwood lying by the roadside, worth thousands of dollars if sent overseas.  

The island is notable as home to a temple 510 years old.  Ceremonies are still held there and neary was one of the island’s three dragon boats which every year competes for the right to compete in the Water Festival races in Phnom Penh.  At every house we passed, the children would run out and yell “hello”.

Upriver from Kratie the dolphins can be seen from the shore.  Adults grow to about 2.5 metres in length and can weigh as much as 140 kilos.  The only vehicle in the car park was a silver Hummer, a gross display of wealth in a country poor by any measure.  About 100 dolphins exist here, and further north in Laos.  A boat with take you out to where they surface, though glimpses are fleeting.  Dark grey in colour they have no beak and a diminutive dorsal fin.  Occasionally, they can be seen jumping out of the water.  Late mornings and afternoons are the best time to see them.

Mr Lucky had lost two dozen beers betting on a World Cup match the night before and hoped for a better result in one of the evening’s matches.  In a local restaurant, foreigners and Cambodians alike watched Argentina beat South Korea 4-1.  Mr Lucky had backed Argentina to win by two goals, so had now broken even.