O-Som

March 6, 2010

A young lady, maybe 18 years old, greeted me outside the guesthouse, “Sister, sister, welcome!”

A room was a grand total of $3 per night, I was sold. She gave me a bottle of cold water and asked me where I had come from and why I came to O-Som. I tried to explain I wanted to hike if possible, but she didn’t seem to understand the concept. There should be a Conservation International ranger station in O-Som that could give me some information, I asked her, “Do you know Conservation International? People here, rangers, working in the forest?” She was puzzled and asked me to repeat.

“Conservation International?” I asked.

“Conservation International?” she said smoothly.

Yes! I thought, she knows.

“I don’t know” she continued, “I don’t know this word.”

Oh right, of course, she’s probably never heard the two words before, but she had said it very well. Just to be sure I wrote Conservation International on a piece of paper, as well as Flora & Fauna International and Wildlife Alliance. Still nothing. Then I remembered that my Lonely Planet had actually listed the phone number of someone from Conservation International that could provide information on the area. My phone was completely out of service but I was able to borrow a local mobile to place the call. The man on the other line was very helpful, though based out of Phnom Phen. Yes, he said, there is a ranger station in O-Som and they should be able to help me see the area. I told him no one here knew about Conservation International. He insisted they should know where it is. I asked him to speak with the girl so that he could describe where I needed to go. I heard him say something to her with “CI” mentioned. She responded positively. She was off the phone in seconds and said, “CI! I know sister!” and I was taken to the nearby CI station on a motorbike. I could have kicked myself, why hadn’t I thought to abbreviate it?

At the CI station I met the senior ranger, Mr. Reet. He was a very kind man in his early 40s. His English was limited but enough to communicate. He asked me if I would like to see the forest and a local waterfall. I would love to I said. Tomorrow he would take me. How much will it cost? Nothing, he said, I didn’t have to pay. Wow! What a treat. He wouldn’t be a guide/driver but a host.

Excited about my luck I went back to my room and had the unusual luxury of taking a much need nap. In the evening I watched the sunset in town and observed a restaurant full of men watching WWF. It’s a big thing here, everyone seems to love it, a “man’s soap opera," if I may borrow the description from Atish.

There was a knock on my door in the evening, “Sister, you come eat rice?”

My sister (I’m sorry I never learned her name) made me a delicious dinner of egg and fish. In my room there was a single light bulb which turned on at sundown with the generator and off at 10:30pm with the electricity. I spent some time with my pictures and catching up on my blog. I was totally paranoid about mosquitoes since I’m not taking malaria so I spent half an hour sowing up all the holes in my mosquito net. I realized as I was stitching the last hole closed that I really enjoy this lifestyle. I love only having 2 hours to be able to use my computer in the evening, listening to music and writing. Once the power is off, it’s off and time for bed. This little town of O-Som represents any small remote town that I think I could easily live in for work. I see a huge potential for genuine eco-tourism here. The town is very basic and building an infrastructure for travelers to come educate themselves and see the forest would provide jobs and perhaps protection for the forest. And once it is out that O-Som has guesthouses there will be a lot more people coming.

I woke up in the morning excited to see the area with Mr. Reet. I relate traveling to really feeling alive. I’ve been a bit bummed and tired for the past several days. After the city and touristy Angkor Wat I was really ready to just get to India and meet Atish. Now that I’m truly on my own again, exploring and finding beautiful places I feel great! I love this.

Mr. Reet picks me up. It’s a longer drive than I expected into the mountains. We drive on his motorbike over horrible roads, fragile bridges, and straight through rivers. The landscape starts with banana trees growing amongst the charred skeletons of once magnificent trees that made up the jungle. Then it becomes denser forest. There is a stark contrast between the gorgeous forest and fast development. What’s happening here? I can see the forest receding before my own eyes. As we cruise farther a wide dirt road in excellent condition is being laid before us. We pass men and machines working to build the road. We pass areas that have been clear-cut, forest that is literally on fire in front of my eyes, work camps, electrical towers being built, construction machines waiting for work. Mr. Reet tells me “Electric building, Chinese company.” The scene before me is both so dramatic and typical, I feel like I’ve been transported into a Captain Planet episode where the Planeteers battle the evil dam builders. But where are the Planeteers? The theme song comes to my mind and I hear the final line, “The power is yours!” But is it? As a child I had such idealistic dreams. As I child I was unusually aware of the many threats to our planet. At the age of 6, while still living in Manhattan, I could tell you about poaching, logging, fires, pollution, illegal animal products, habitat destruction, and endangered species. But my childish idealism manifested in my belief that I would grow up to put a stop to all the “bad guys who like to loot and plunder.” I’d figure out a way to talk them out of it, show them the harm they were doing. I never dreamed of one little girl trying to stand up to China. “Stop China, please stop, you’re hurting the animals.”

What I see in front of me now as we ride though the smoking forest I don’t imagine trying to stop, idealistically or realistically. If Cambodia needs the electricity, they need the electricity. If China wants to front the money, let them front the money. (That is assuming the electricity is for Cambodia and not being exported to China.) The most I would hope for is an agreement that only the absolutely necessary areas of the Cardamom Mountains are used, the rest should be legally protected, and the Chinese company should be closely monitored to make sure they don’t overstep their boundaries. But even as I think of these goals I think “yeah right.” There are so many more factors at play, pressure from a growing population, complex politics, inability to enforce regulations, not to mention the profound ecological affects that dams and the surrounding infrastructure would have on the area. CI, FFI, WA. If you speak to any conservationist that has worked abroad in the field they will convey similar pessimism. We all recognize the bleak reality of the work we do. But we still do it, holding onto some hope that we can delay the inevitable, perhaps until humanity begins to shift our self-destructive trajectory.

We reach the waterfall and I’m impressed. I hadn’t been expecting anything grand, but the waterfall is beautiful. A flat, rock river bed ends sharply at a rounded cliff where the water falls down over 100ft. I’m sure it must be even more stunning during the rainy season. Mr. Reet and I sit for a while on the river bed and talk.

At first it’s difficult for him to understand me, but slowly we seem to be able to communicate more easily with a simple vocabulary. I learn that he studied Forest Administration in Russia. He’s very proud that he speaks Russian. His wife lives in Phnom Phen with his 7 year old daughter. I ask him about the electric company, he says they are building 3 dams. He says he and his rangers go on patrol to make sure that people aren’t cutting down the forest in the area, but now it’s difficult because the company is cutting so much anyway.

I ask him if he thinks more people will start to come to O-Som in the next years. He says yes, already there are motorbike tours that stop there, and they get about 7 independent Western tourists per month right now. I ask him if he likes working in the forest. “Yes,” he smiles, “forest smell good, Phnom Phen gas.”

After the waterfall we went down a small road in the forest. Mr. Reet was looking for some type of medicinal plant to make tea with. I noticed that as we walked down a wide path he didn’t head off to look for the plant, he only looked at the plants directly next to the path. “Are there landmines here?” I asked, making an exploding motion with my hand. “Yes, many” he replies nonchalantly. Ok, I think, cool… I stay on the path. The sound of a hundred birds chorused around us. I couldn’t see any but they were all there, every range of song and chirps. Then, as I looked up I saw a large bird flying overhead. After I second I recognized it as hornbill, a bird I’ve only ever seen in zoos. It flew slowly and peacefully between the trees, disappearing into the canopy. The Great Hornbill (which is what I think it was) is a stunning bird. For one reason or another, seeing it in the wild, flying across the sky so freely was breathtaking. Immediately, the forest held even more importance and value for me.

We head back to O-Som for lunch and I enjoy another afternoon nap. At 4pm he picks me up and takes me to a sanctuary for the endangered Siamese Crocodile. We don’t see the crocodile but the area is beautiful. It’s a valley of rice paddy fields with a protected wetland in the middle.

The next morning I’m sad to leave O-Som and my new friends for Koh Kong on the south coast of Cambodia. I thank my sister for taking such good care of me. The ride to Koh Kong in a car (thank god) driven by Mr. Reet cost me $35, which was an excellent deal considering they had at first told me $50 to take me by bike on the horrible old logging road. The road was horrible and at one point we were properly stuck. Luckily a car nearby had a flat tire and so there were 4 other men who helped literally lift our car out of the ditch and back onto the road.