Somnang and I had to take the “Public” van which I have been always so curious about. They wait by the side of the road on the outskirts of the city until enough people show up to satisfy the demands of the owner that she should make her keep and meet the costs of upkeeping a monstrous vehicle. In this case it was 23 people, and often I think there are many more, in a vehicle the size of a minivan. Someone was also sitting on the roof, and I have seen many cans with multiple people sitting on the roof. it cost about 6 thousand reil, or $1.50. I guess the guy on the roof pays less. Originally they had me sitting in the choice seat of the front with 3 other people, but after a women who had just given birth got on with her infant, I was asked if I would be comfortable giving up my seat and happily opted to join the multitude in the back. All of the khmers thought this was the most amazing thing and kept asking questions about what life was like as a barang (it means “french” but is used to apply to all foreingners) in Kampuchea, if I ate khmer food, how old was I, weather I thought bread makes you stronger or rice. Those who had camera phones took pictures of me and told me I was so “sa-at.” sitting on the edge very close to the window I was quite squished, but comfortable with a nice breeze
When we got to Samnang’s house, I was immediately put to work at my warp, threading every thread through the tiny teeth of the weaving comb. the naturally dyed colors we had made the previous week looked so beautiful, even in stark contrast to the dirt of the floor of the house, and the plain wooden stilts and the floor we were sitting under. it’s so interesting to see these women weaving the most luxurious silk imaginable on looms made of old worn wood, floors of dirt, and chickens and cows walking around them. They are all so curious about me too, and why I am doing this. But they are happy that someone is taking an interest in what they are doing I think. And it is also giving them new ideas for what they could do with the amazing weaving skills that they have. I don’t think they
Much like farming rice,
The Cambodian country side, was all green and flooded the last time I was in it, were
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