The Meeting of the Mountains

When the bus pulled into Senmonorom, I thought I might be in heaven. Mondulkiri ("Mountain of the Mandala") Province in North-Eastern Cambodia is aptly named. Despite being the largest province in Cambodia, it is the most sparsely populated. Senmonorom, the capital city, has a population of under 7,000 and no post office or bank. Perched on a sloping hillside, and surrounded by mountains and jungle, this one road town was a perfect escape from our mad journey thus far. 

Mondulkiri province

We enquired about bunking up at a local elephant rescue program, but the one-eyed expat at Bunong Place gave us the unfortunate news that our first choice of location was booked solid for the weekend. Instead, we trudged the two miles down a red clay road to the Nature Lodge, and snagged their last bungalow. Although we really wanted to stay at The Elephant Project, I'm glad we found the Nature Lodge. It consists of an open-air dining room, a treehouse hammock lounge, and a dozen isolate bungalows spread out on a hillside overlooking rolling green hills. Cows and horses roam freely around the property, acting as weed whackers and lawn mowers. The staff are a group of local teenagers learning English, hospitality, and business management. Our bungalow had two large beds surrounded by mosquito nets, a hot shower (luxury!), and a hammock on the front porch. 

Our little cabin on the hillside

We walked back to town for dinner at Savankini. It felt good to be back in a rural area; I enjoyed recognizing and getting to know other travelers and shop owners around town. After dinner, we rented a motorbike from The Green House and drove to see a hilltop pagoda. This was my first ride on a scooter since a big crash in 2010, and I was definitely nervous. But unfortunately, motorbikes are the only reasonable form of transportation in many areas in South East Asia. I think I may have broken one of Pete's ribs by squeezing so hard and permanently damaged his hearing with my yells - "Slow down!" "Watch out for that bike!!!" "Ahhh!" He handled it all admirably and did a great job driving up and down the steep hills and bumpy dirt roads. 

They see me rollin

We climbed to the top of a nearby hill and looked out at the beautiful mountains in all directions. It felt so good to be outside! We couldn't stop smiling as we headed back to the lodge for beers and card games all evening. After a breakfast of muesli, fruit, and yogurt, we rented the motorbike again for a day of exploring around town. We stumbled on an Pnong indigenous rally for government control of land pricing. Like many developing nations rich in natural resources, land value in Mondulkiri has skyrocketed lately, and indigenous tribes have been losing their farmland and income. Everyone was dressed up for the occasion, and had plenty of foods and crafts for sale. 

They were pretty excited to pose for a picture

We left the rally and headed for a coffee plantation on the outskirts of town. Besides acres and acres of coffee trees, the farm grew durian, passionfruit, and rambutan. We sat by a peaceful lake and drank delicious (and really strong) coffee. 

Coffee!

Passionfruits

Senmonorom is also known for their waterfalls, so we spent a few hours in the afternoon hiking around looking for a cool place to dip our toes. We passed many indigenous women and children walking along the dirt paths herding livestock or carrying vegetables. We ran into a group of Chinese girls also visiting the waterfall; they insisted upon taking a picture with me!

Muddy roaring rivers

Kiddos at work

Later in the day we visited a Buddhist monastery surrounded by more colorful, ornate pagodas. To me, Buddhist monks seem like such an exotic group, so full of zen or nirvana or enlightenment or whatever that they are above the mundane activities of us average folks. It was amusing to see young monks engaged in daily life: doing laundry, chatting with their families, or skipping between buildings (don't they levitate?). 

Pagodas

Robes in the wash

At the end of the day, we climbed "Sunset Hill." With an amazing view of the whole valley, it was the perfect place to watch the sun drop below the horizon and paint the sky orange, purple, and pink. 

Sunset hill

Unbeatable Senmonorom sunset

For me, Sunday was a highlight of the entire trip. We headed out early to a Putang village about ten miles into the hills from Senmonorom. As soon as we pulled into town, my mouth dropped open. Half a dozen elephants came into view. They plodded between the houses, their heads level with the second story rooms, or stood in the shade of nearby trees. We met our Putang guide and marveled at the huge animals looming over us. 

Mr. Hung and Ramtuk

Without further ado, Mr. Hung told Ramtuk to kneel down and motioned for me to hop onto his head! When Ramtuk lumbered back to his feet, my stomach swooped and I had a moment of vertigo. There isn't much to hold onto up there, and each step feels like a small earthquake. Ramtuk's leathery ears flapped against my legs as we trudged down the red dirt road towards bright green hillside and dense jungle. At first I was feeling pretty cool; the few others in our group were nervous and visibly uncomfortable riding their elephants, but my years riding horses gave me an advantage. It was just like riding a big, slow Clydesdale! I felt balanced holding on with my thighs and was glad I didn't have to cling to Ramtuk's neck. But it wasn't long before this feeling of confidence evaporated. Ramtuk knew he could take advantage of me (I didn't even speak his langauge!), so he ducked into the underbrush to gobble down bamboo stalks at any opportunity, nearly decapitating me with low-hanging branches on several occasions. 

Trying to convince Ramtuk to stay with the group!

I lay flat on Ramtuk's back as we lumbered through the forest like a massive bulldozer, and tried not to get dropped off on a tree. Finally we made it to the river (it took us even longer because Ramtuk took the most circuitous path to avoid stepping in any mud or other elephant poop). Here we swam, bathed the elephants in a roaring waterfall, and learned more about the culture we were experiencing.

Crossing the first river

Mr. Hung, the Putang mahout ("elephant keeper"), uses Ramtuk essentially as a tractor to carry loads of crops and wood into the village. At night, Ramtuk is hobbled and can roam around, looking for the never-ending supply of bamboo. Beung, our Khmer guide from Senmonoram, did most of the translating between us and Mr. Hung. He also told us that a tiger roams the hillside, prompting mahouts to keep their elephants hobbled close to the village.At the end of the day we journeyed back up through the forest, across the rolling green hillsides, and down the red dirt road into the village. 

Oxen grazing in the Putang village

We finished the trip sitting in Mr. Hung's home and meeting his wife and children. The house consisted of one large room, a dirt floor, a thatched roof, no electricity, and no doors. Mrs. Hung was cooking rice over an open fire in the middle of the floor when we arrived. She alternated between shelling beans and chasing out the squawking chickens and pigs that kept sneaking in for a snack. Beung told us a little more about the many hill tribe minorities (including the Putang) who each have their own language and village. It is a close-knit, small community that lacks access to, and even knowledge of, modern amenities. There is little to no education, few medicines, no birth control, and all travel is done on foot or by elephant. Some of the older folks have never even been down to Senmonoram (which is only 10 miles away). 

Mrs. Hung

Suddenly a moto sped up outside the house. Apparently I left my passport at the place where we rented mopeds the day before. Word got around that I might have come up to the village for the day, and the whole town was in an uproar to return my passport! I couldn't decide whether to be grateful for their help and hospitality, or given the feeling they wanted to make absolutely sure I would be leaving their country. Either way,  I loved the countryside and small villages. I didn't want to leave a place where I felt I had made friends and could wave while walking through town. Everyone was so happy, helpful, and friendly. 

Did I mention that elephant bodies are covered in sparse, prickly hairs? 

My thighs were covered in tiny scratches by the end of the day.

We had dinner our last night in the Khmer Kitchen. I tried a delicious Cambodian stew. Six Human Rights Watch workers ate at the table next to us; apparently the Human Rights Watch organization is very active in helping villagers fight for their land against large companies starting plantations. One of the kitchen employees offered us a ride back to the Nature Lodge in his truck at the end of the night. As we drove out of town, a pick-up truck with blacked out windows and a tarp over the bed sped past us heading east. Our driver said they were illegal loggers heading to the Vietnam border with wood. Before he dropped us at the lodge, we asked him why he moved up here to the mountains from Phnom Penh. He simply said he hated big, crowded cities and love the fresh air. We heartily agreed.   

On Monday morning we hopped in an enormous bus heading towards the Vietnam border just a few miles south. The bus quickly overheated on the steep mountain roads and we spent the next hour and a half baking in the sun while brave men lowered themselves into the roadside gutters and scooped up water to replace the missing coolant. After a while, the bus was deemed a loss, and the driver called a friend with a minibus. 

One last look at the mountains

So Monday afternoon found us flying through the Cambodian countryside, squished in the back of a 12-passenger van with 15 Khmers, two babies, and a one-armed Italian, heading at a breakneck pace for Vietnam...