Читать книгу SOULFUL JOURNEY - Sotheary Ortego - Страница 5

AUGUST 6, 1973

Time seems to pass very quickly. Almost three years into their marriage, Savanna and Isan have not yet been blessed with a child.

Savanna, her husband, Isan, and her childhood friends, Money, Molly, Ratanakiri, and Mondulkiri are in their early twenties. Their friendship has been growing stronger with each passing year. Savanna and her friends still do many things together. They are like brothers and sisters to her.

Money married Mondulkiri a few months ago and Molly and Ratanakiri will be getting married in May next year.

Early one morning, they board a double-decker boat filled with goods at Bassac River with the intention of visiting Neak Loung, a small ferry town on the Mekong River in southwestern Cambodia near the Vietnam border to buy diabetes medication for Savanna’s father.

Isan, Ratanakiri, and Mondulkiri built the boat together. It is made of water-resistant teak wood. Over the shallow V-shaped hull, which is the body of the boat, is a flat open deck that can be snapped on and off as needed. The boat is designed to rise up and glide on top of the water when traveling fast and to stay buoyant while at rest or at slow speed, allowing them to travel rapidly and comfortably across the river through rough or smooth water.

At the stern, Mondulkiri maneuvers the boat out into the open channel, while Ratanakiri, Molly, and Money are busy mending the fishing nets on the middle deck.

Sitting at the front deck, Savanna takes out a handful of lotus rootlets from the bamboo basket and soaks them in a large bucket of water to keep them fresh so they can sell or trade them at the market in Neak Loung.

A warm breeze ruffles her hair as Savanna turns her gaze southward. She has been thinking about her father constantly wondering how long he would survive without the insulin. She tries not to dwell on these negative thoughts, but they keep coming back to her over and over again. Savanna pictures his ailing face and wonders how she would feel if something bad were to happen to him. She just wants to focus on finding the insulin and returning home to be with him.

Savanna and her family have no money. People in the village have donated many items for them to trade for insulin.

Back in Great Moat Village, everything is bartered and traded for. There is no need for money. For many centuries, people of Great Moat Village have existed as a community. They take care of one another when they are in need. No one dies alone. No family carries all of the burdens on their shoulders by themselves. No couple gets married without the help of the community.

For as long as she could remember, Savanna had never met a friendless or a homeless person in Great Moat Village. But in Phnom Penh, people seem less friendly. She has seen very little community involvement among them. People are too busy helping themselves, even a simple inquiry about insulin had cost them five kilograms of tobacco.

Insulin was a precious commodity even before the war. People in small villages often had to travel long distances to find it. For two days, they had searched for insulin and diabetic supplies in every hospital and pharmacy in Phnom Penh, but had been unable to find it.

Savanna does not understand much about diabetes. All she knows is that insulin has saved her father’s life. Without it he will die. About two years ago, her father suddenly became very sick. With a stroke of luck, they ran into a French missionary doctor in the village. The doctor gave her father insulin and taught him about diabetes. After that her father was doing very well until he ran out of insulin.

A pharmacist in Phnom Penh told them that the hospital in Neak Loung might have diabetic supplies. Without delay, they decide to strike out for Neak Loung on their motorboat and they travel at top speed in search of the insulin.

Three days have passed since they left Great Moat Village. It has not been long, but it feels like a month. Savanna hopes it is not too late to save her father.

Neak Loung is one of the major trading routes. Many foreign goods pass through the town’s busy port.

Savanna thinks if they can get to the hospital in time, they might have a better chance of finding diabetic supplies in the ferry town than in the capital.

As they move down the river, they pass by many small villages along the shore. From her position at the bow, Savanna has a clear view of the landscape. Almost every home is made of bamboo and thatch. There are boats in different shapes and sizes moving up and down the river.

Savanna looks at the water around the boat. Seeing its brown color shifts her thoughts to the climate of Cambodia.

The annual flooding of the Mekong River covers a large part of the land from June to October. The river replenishes the land with fertile soil, irrigates the fields, refills the lakes across the country, and provides means of transportation for villagers who live inland. Boats are the most common and convenient form of transportation for many people who live in the floodplain, especially during the wet season.

In addition, the Mekong River splits into numerous tributaries. The rivers are a major source of fish, providing an important source of food for the people. Many Cambodians get their daily supply of protein from fish. As a result of the climate that does not become extremely cold and the fertile soil, a variety of vegetables and grains thrive in this part of the world.

In some areas, farmers can grow and harvest rice three times a year. There is one strain of rice that can alter its rate of growth according to the rise and fall of the flood water. If the water rises, the paddy heads rise above the water line just enough to catch the sunlight. If the water level drops, the rice plants lower themselves, but manage to stay a little higher than the water line at all times. After the water has receded from the floodplain, the rice plants fall to the ground. Within a few weeks or so, the grains are ready to be harvested. This unique strain of rice is known as floating rice.

Regardless of the wet or dry season, the temperature stays very warm throughout the year, except for the month of January. The short winter is slightly cooler. Savanna has no need for thick clothes or heavy blankets—a thin, long-sleeved cotton shirt is enough to keep her warm in the winter.

But the heat can get very uncomfortable at noon under the direct sunlight. Along the shores of the river, people leave their homes very early to do their daily activities before the sun reaches its zenith. Here and there, she sees people bathing and washing their clothes on wooden platforms while their little children play nearby. Life here looks just about the same as life in her village.

They are making good time despite the rough water and bumpy ride. By mid-morning, they are near their destination.

Here, about sixty kilometers south east of Phnom Penh, three kilometers north of Neak Loung, far from the melting snow of the Himalayan mountains and the running streams that feed it, the mighty river has flowed over four thousand kilometers. Soon, it will drain into the open arms of the South China Sea.

In Great Moat Village, the river is much calmer. Savanna’s ancestors knew how to channel the water to irrigate the rice fields. They also learned how to hold water in reserve by building moats and ponds. Thanks to them, the village has managed to survive many droughts over the last two thousand years. But the river out here is rough, untamed, almost impossible to manage during the flood season. The swollen river seems to roar in fury, submerging everything within its path. In every direction she looks, water stretches out to the horizon.

In many places, especially where two or three major rivers meet, the waters mingle and flow in all directions, causing the boat to swirl around like a wooden spinning top.

The water in this region is no place for inexperienced travelers. In some areas, it is too dangerous even for skilled boatmen like Isan and Mondulkiri. These two men are like aquatic creatures. They have a keen sense of currents and squalls. They know how to maneuver boats through different types of waters. Savanna is very thankful to have them on board.

Up ahead, Savanna spots a cargo ship in the distance. It is moving closer and closer in their direction. The vessel sends big waves across the river, making their boat bounce up and down, forcing them from their planned course for at least ten minutes.

In the east, the sun peeks out from the clear blue sky. The morning sun warms her skin and stings her eyes. Savanna takes a deep breath and turns her attention back to her task.

Savanna pulls another handful of water lilies from a galvanized bucket and twists them into a circular shape. The flowers and the stalks of the lilies are edible. You can eat them raw, pickle them, steam them, or make hot and sour soup—you can consume them in whichever way you like. They stay crisp and fresh at least a week or more, as long as you keep them out of the sun and soak them in fresh water three to four times a day. You can also arrange them in bouquets of lilies for special occasions. They come in many brilliant shades—pink, white, yellow, and blue are common in Great Moat Village. The water lilies are so brightly colored that just looking at them hurts her eyes, but nevertheless she appreciates every single one of them.

Isan goes behind Savanna. He loops his arms around her waist and kisses her on the cheek. “You look a little pale today,” he says, holding her close to his chest. “Everything all right?”

His warm embrace reminds her of something she has been wanting to tell him. She had missed her period last month. For a while she was not sure whether she could be carrying a child. But now she is not mistaken. She can sense that another life is growing inside her womb. Not wanting to disappoint her husband, Savanna keeps silent until she thinks it is the right time to share the happy news with him.

Savanna turns to face Isan with a smile. “I have something important to tell you,” she says.

“Something good?” he inquires in a playful way, smiling, and listening with interest.

Savanna hands him a bundle of water lilies and replies with a soft glow in her eyes, “I should see the doctor when we get to Neak Loung.”

Isan’s face flattens. His voice comes out more loudly than he meant. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I’m pregnant,” she says happily.

“A baby?” he exclaims.

Savanna nods with a smile. “Yes, a baby!" she confirms. “I think, I’m about ten weeks pregnant,” she adds.

Isan’s eyes grow wide with happiness. “After three years of trying, now we’re gonna have a baby?”

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Three bombs explode into the river before them, seemingly out of nowhere, sending shock waves in different directions.

“Get down!” Isan shouts, throwing his protective arm over her. The boat leaps over huge waves, nearly knocking their heads against the ceiling of the top deck.

Isan and Savanna get down on their knees and duck for cover under the vegetable stalls. In shock, they look across the harbor and see black smoke rising in the air.

Flames burn villages along the riverbank. The fire spreads to the wooden platform and floating homes.

Villagers run out of their burning huts in panic and confused. Some make a fruitless attempt to fight the fire, while others jump into the water to rescue injured family members from drowning.

Downstream, little children thrash wildly in the river, screaming and crying in terror for their parents to help them.

Overhead, three bombs are falling from the B-52s. The bombs slam into the pier and blow it to smithereens, leaving behind the dead on the shore, and the village in ruins.

In an instant, a thunderous roar of rushing water splits the air. Within moments, a sea of sludge along with huge waves pushes the boat to the middle of the river.

In total confusion, Ratanakiri cries out at the top of his voice, “Hurry up, let’s get the boat out of here!”

Mondulkiri, his big brother, roars back, “I’m trying!” As he struggles to get back on his feet, a massive explosion rocks the boat and kills the engine. Instantly, the boat shoots up in the air like a thunderbolt and plunges down with a crashing boom.

Waves break over them, sending torrents of water into the boat. Panicking, Mondulkiri scrambles to turn the engine back on.

Eyes glazed with terror, Ratanakiri pants wildly and crawls to the back of the boat to help his brother.

Beads of sweat break out on Mondulkiri’s forehead. He turns to Ratanakiri with a baffled expression on his face and asks, “We’re not at war with the Americans, why are they bombing us?”

Ratanakiri shakes his head and replies, “I don’t know. Maybe they’re going after the communist Vietnamese."

“It doesn’t make any sense," Mondulkiri responds with a look of frustration on his face. "We’ve passed through here many times, not once did we see any of them,” he says.

“Maybe the communist Vietnamese are hiding in the neutral zone and the Americans are chasing after them," Ratanakiri replies.

“Both of them are violating the neutral zone policy,” Mondulkiri responds. “The Vietnamese and the Americans have no right to fight their war in Cambodia.” Mondulkiri draws a shaky breath and throws another question at his brother. “Why don’t they settle their differences in their own countries?”

“They all have their own hidden agenda, but none of us knows the real answer,” Ratanakiri comments as he examines the engine. "I couldn’t think of any other reasons, except for the fact that we are small and weak and we can’t fight against great numbers of invisible tigers behind our backs and hideous giant metal birds over our heads. Soon we’ll be dead if we don’t escape their clutches. Now I have explained my theory, would you please hurry and get the boat out of here before they blow us to pieces,” he tells his brother in a sharp tone.

Just as Mondulkiri turns his head to look for a harbor to dock their boat, a loud booming thud shakes the earth.

Up in the sky, he sees a trio of B-52 bombers sailing toward them like giant vultures. “They’re coming again!” Mondulkiri cries out in panic. “Which way should I turn?” he inquires in a loud voice.

Overwhelmed and frightened, Ratanakiri roars above the sound of a loud explosion, “Turn back to shore!”

Struggling through huge waves and debris, Mondulkiri battles to bring the boat back to shore.

Not far ahead, there are several long rows of brown bamboo shoots bobbing in the water. Fishermen in Cambodia use these floating devices in the shallow water to track down their fishing nets. The shock waves from the bombing raid might have swept the fishing nets down the river.

Mondulkiri catches a glimpse of the nylon nets. He tries to swerve away, but he turns too late. The boat goes through the fishing lines.

The engine roars. The boat jerks violently and throws Mondulkiri off his seat. He glances over his shoulder and sees nylon nets tangling around the propeller. He shakes the steering handle frantically, yelling at the top of his lungs to his brother, “We ran into the nets. I need help!”

Ratanakiri stops bailing the water. He grabs a bamboo pole and tries to push the nets away from the boat.

More bombs blast into the river. The boat pitches and plunges, dragging the nylon nets along with it.

A huge chunk of driftwood slams against the bow. With a mighty crash, the top deck falls away. Cargo flies around in all directions. A teak wood chest tips over. Its contents spill out.

Savanna spots a one-meter long scythe with curved metal blade and wooden handle next to the teak wood chest. She cries out to Isan who is busy emptying the water out, “Isan, get the slasher to Mondulkiri and help him free the propeller. I’ll take over!” She tosses it to her husband.

As Isan seizes the scythe by its handle, something with a tremendous force slams into the boat on the right side. The boat rocks dangerously and tilts on its left side. Isan stumbles back and forth, but he manages to stay upright.

After a moment, he figures out how to balance himself and makes his way around to the outboard engine, where Mondulkiri and Ratanakiri are struggling to free the blades.

A powerful explosion erupts right behind them, sending the boat up high as if into the sky. And then down it crashes with a slide, flying, leaping across the river at incredible speed.

The boat rides over the swells, skimming, bobbing on the surface of the water like a piece of flotsam from a shipwreck. Without a break another trio of B-52 bombers roars overhead.

About five hundred meters dead ahead, three bombs explode and throw the boat off its course. Within seconds, towering waves pitch their boat toward the churning maelstrom of a great whirlpool.

Losing their wits and looking as pale as two ghosts, Molly and Money are transfixed with horror, unable to function. In terrified shrill voices, they scream hysterically at the same time, “We’re sinking! We’re sinking!"

The fraternal twins cling to each other weeping. “Oh God of our first ancestors,” they pray in unison, “please come and save us.”

“We’ll outrun this!” Savanna shouts out from the bow. “Get up and take your positions!” She slides the oars from the front section of the boat to her friends who are sitting at the middle deck and orders, “Row! Come on, help us bring the boat to shore!"

Ordinarily she is not the kind of person who would raise her voice at her friends, but seeing them paralyzed with fear, she feels it is necessary to give them direction. Her ability to lead in time of danger surprises her as well. In some manner that she cannot understand, her survival instincts seem to manifest in full force. She keeps screaming at her friends in terror, telling them to pick up the oars.

Panic-stricken, Molly and Money seize the oars and start to row, but their clumsy efforts have little effect. Their hands are trembling and their knees are shaking. It seems like they have forgotten how to row the boat. Normally, these two women are excellent rowers. In the local contest, they have ranked as the best rowers among women in the village. They have held that title for the last three years in a row.

Savanna turns to her friends. Seeing them struggle to stand on the slippery rolling deck, she leaps for the oar and gives them instructions, “Keep your feet apart, look straight ahead at the pointed bow and row! We need to get the boat away from the pool before it pulls us down! Come on, collect your senses and stay focused!"

The oars slip out from their hands and land on the slippery rolling deck. Money's and Molly’s faces are blank. They look as if they have gone into a trance. Fear seems to have paralyzed them. They don’t even know how to hold the oars.

“Money! Molly!” Savanna cries out at the top of her lungs, trying to get their attention, surprised by the force of her own voice. “Pick them up, now!” she shouts louder. “Come on, grab those oars!”

The screaming works this time. Somehow Savanna’s voice hit the keynote in her friends’ minds. The two sisters gain control of themselves. They grasp the oars and put them into the rowlocks.

Together with Savanna as their leader they row for their lives. With fifty deft sweeps of the oars, the three women pull the boat away from the whirlpool.

But the next moment, several bombs drop into the river about seven hundred meters before them. The boat rocks violently and drifts sideways toward the swirl.

At the stern, Mondulkiri and Ratanakiri are still wrestling with the engine. Mondulkiri cranks it up. It rattles for a short moment, then dies out. Mondulkiri beats the engine with his fist trying to dislodge the fishing lines, while Ratanakiri keeps pushing the nylon nets away from the boat with the bamboo pole.

The boat careens round and round, spinning in the sickening motion. It drifts closer and closer to the edge of the maelstrom. Now it begins to tilt on its side and the water starts to pour into the boat.

Savanna, Molly, and Money scramble for buckets and start to bail as fast as they can.

Leaning overboard, Isan seizes the nylon nets and slashes them apart with all his might.

Finally, the propeller breaks free from the fishing lines. The boat bobs back, lurches, and wallows in the raging river.

Despite the rough turbulence of huge waves and strong currents, the boat remains afloat. It is well built and properly trimmed, and so far it has ridden the swells without difficulty.

Just as they begin to recover from the shock waves, another bomb explodes on the starboard side about six hundred meters away from them. Instantly, a great wave of water splashes into the boat and throws them off their feet, tearing the buckets away from their hands, sending barrels and bushels into the foaming river.

They struggle to get up, but fall helplessly to the bottom of the boat, rolling back and forth as bombs continue to explode all around them.

Mondulkiri screams to Ratanakiri, scrambling for something to hold on to. “Throw me a line.”

Ratanakiri manages to grab a white waxed cotton sash rope from the teak wood storage chest and tosses it to his brother.

Mondulkiri attaches the rope to the rowing post. He clings to the rope as the boat pitches and plunges through the treacherous water.

Tobacco crates fly overboard. Water lilies, lotus, sugarcane sticks, corn, anything that’s unsecured is gone. The once crowded deck now is empty, except for the people.

There are several leaks on both sides of the boat. Water quickly rises to their knees. They keep on bailing frantically.

Mondulkiri, the captain of the boat, squeezes himself through to restart the engine. He pulls the string, the engine roars back to life on the first attempt. He makes a sharp turn and shoots off toward the shore at top speed, riding the swells expertly.

As they are about to reach the shoreline, they hear a thundering crash before them. Water surges and pours over them in foaming torrents. For some moments they are completely deluged by huge waves. Without a word, they continue to bail the water out with fierce concentration.

The next instant, the belt of the outboard motor breaks into pieces. Suddenly, smoke puffs up from the engine.

Mondulkiri shrieks, “The engine is dead!” He throws a wet blanket over the engine to smother the smoke.

The boat bounces through the swells and gets swept away by the swift currents, spinning out of control.

Isan and Ratanakiri throw down their pails and crawl to the rower’s posts, scrambling for the oars.

Mondulkiri struggles to restart the engine. It coughs, rattles, but fails to fire. He shouts furiously, “Let’s row!”

The men start to row with all their might and the women keep emptying the water out with unfailing strength, but nothing seems to stop the perilous drift.

Nearer and nearer the boat advances toward the jaws of the gulf. They take courage and keep on rowing. But the force of nature is beyond their human strength. It seems that they are heading to their destruction no matter what they do. But they do not give up hope.

Then with a sickening sweep, the boat starts to descend. The air around them is full of spray. They can hardly see. At this moment they realize that they are fighting a battle they cannot win. Now instinct prompts them to abandon their positions and to go for the ropes to stop themselves from falling into the deep pit and never get another chance to see the sun again.

Over the sound of the chaos, they all chant in one voice, praying to the God of their first ancestors for safety.

Just as they approach the brink of the abyss, another bomb explodes not far behind them, sending towering shock waves in every direction.

The boat gets hit by a tremendous wave on its stern. It shoots forward like a thunderbolt and topples into the maelstrom.

Overwhelmed by the immense force, they scream in horror, clinging on to the ropes for their lives as the boat plunges headlong into the vortex and starts to spin in rapid revolutions.

Savanna sways back and forth, struggling to keep her hold on the rope. After a few minutes, her strength is just about gone. She begins to lose her grip. “I cannot hold on!" Savanna cries out to her husband at the top of her lungs. “Please help me!” Already she is sliding perilously from her place to the point of the bow. In her agony, she scrambles for footholds to support her weight.

Isan struggles to hold on to the rope with one hand and tries desperately to grab Savanna’s hand with the other. He shouts to her furiously, “Come on, reach up and grab my hand!” But his voice drowns under the sound of an enormous explosion.

A huge bomb weighing two thousand pounds falls into the whirlpool. Instantly, it explodes like a fireball and sends a blizzard of debris flying in many directions.

The boat shatters into pieces. Its fragments topple into the swirling water and disappear into the mighty river.