A Visit to the Farm

Last week my sisters, our neighbors, and I paid a visit to my aunt's fields. Although we live in a district capital (like a county seat), the urban space is just a thin slice of land along the national highway, away from which the houses quickly give way to fields. So one evening around dusk sister Phea and I rode our bikes out to the north and east so that I could finally see agriculture in action. (I visited the fields near my training village but as it was the dry season at the time there was not much action.)

This is my aunt standing in her field, wearing her kroma (traditional Cambodian garment) on her head. I can't describe how beautiful it was to be out in the middle of a world green to the horizon, with the sun hanging low over the trees and a few solitary farmers, like my aunt, capturing the last minutes of light to finish up their day's work. A cool breeze slid over the fields, but the water was warm, and the frogs quietly sang their songs as we walked by.

Waving goodbye. My aunt, neighbors, and two sisters all prepare to go home. One of the boys caught a crab in the water on our walk back to the road. The balloon survived until we were almost home.

Riding home at twilight. We're taking the water pump, the blue pipe I'm holding onto, back home in the go-yoo-un, which is a vehicle that results from the marriage of a pickup bed and an outboard motor (approximately). The road's bumpy so I had to hold on tight, even though all the Cambodians with me had no trouble staying in the cart.

Next time, maybe I'll try my hand at catching a crab...