khmer sources

If satellites could capture sound from earth, thousands of "hellowhatisyournames" would have resounded from the planet when the 2005 Cyclo Smoke-Free Ride for Life made its way around Cambodia’s Mekong basin in early September.

Twenty lime-green cyclos driven in "shifts" by 30 drivers, 10 barang and 2 Cambodian cyclists, and accompanied by 5 support vehicles, passed amused locals who greeted the entourage as if King Sihamoni himself was leading the way.
Emerging from behind trees, from inside darkened doorways, or from out of the middle of a rice paddy, Cambodia’s rural community waved and laughed at the rather extraordinary sight pedaling by.

And those who enquired as to exactly where the convoy was headed were astonished: "Phnom Penh – Kompong Cham – Prey Veng – Phnom Penh," cried the cyclo drivers with gusto—a total of 320km—keeping in mind, an empty cyclo alone weighs 60kg and has no gears.
The cyclos required frequent repairs, their tires burst at intervals with a terrific bang. A truck and driver had been hired to carry a mechanic on board, as well as a compressor and other tools necessary to service the cyclos on the road. Of the other support vehicles, International Resources for the Improvement of Sight (IRIS) leant a brand new pick-up, in which a doctor sat armed with Royal-D for re-hydration and multi-vitamins for "health". When the cyclo drivers were not pedaling, they clambered inside and on top of a National Centre for Health Promotion (NCHP) four-wheel-drive, which also seemed to act as the pace car. Red Cross and Adventist Development and Relief Agency (ADRA) vehicles brought up the rear.

This year’s Cyclo Smoke-Free Ride for Life was staged to raise awareness of the conditions cyclo drivers face on a day-to-day basis. Most cyclo drivers live on the Phnom Penh streets beneath the canopy of their cyclo; most earn $1 a day; and most are rural migrants who live apart from their families, families who are often wholly dependent on the cyclo’s income.
As was last year’s successful Siem Reap – Phnom Penh rally, the 2005 event was organized to raise funds for the capital’s Cyclo Centre. The Centre was established in 1999 as a program run by the Urban Resource Centre (URC), a local NGO who help the urban poor community improve their living conditions. In August, Phnom Penh’s Cyclo Centre itself was recognized by the Ministry of Interior as a fully-fledged NGO.

So in the early, rather damp, hours of September 7, the rally left from outside The Cyclo Centre in a long neat line making its way for Kompong Cham, an initial leg of 118km, which would take the best part of nine hours. The day was cool, the mood was convivial, and as the group moved further into the countryside the scenery became astonishingly emerald, and rainbows of dragonflies and butterflies hovered over the road..
Just outside of Skun the rally stopped for lunch; cyclists stumbled off bicycles grateful for the respite from sitting, cyclo tires were mended and pint-sized pomelo sellers introduced themselves. Large quantities of rice and frog meat were consumed, tea was sipped, toothpicks picked and a newfound energy propelled everyone forward at speed toward Kompong Cham.

Throughout the three days of the rally, these meals were an important routine. They meant a rest, some energy, and they meant a chance to pass the chili to someone you might never have had the good fortune to pass chili to before. Eating on the rally was very much an egalitarian affair. Breakfast was road-side rice and pork in polystyrene, lunch and dinner were sit-down affairs, occasions of soup, an omelet or a fragrant curry. Language and any cultural differences meant nothing—it was simply about eating.

The next day—all decked out in smoke-free green—the group hauled themselves over the bridge out of Kompong Cham for Prey Veng, along Highway 11, 96km to the south east. This was the day of dusky rubber plantations and verdurous rice fields, a green swelling all the way to the horizon and to be able to stop amidst it all, well, this was the way to savor Cambodia.
Later that afternoon, nearing Prey Veng, (where incidentally there are approximately 150 cyclo drivers in business) the sky darkened and a southerly blew. Everyone got wet. Prey Veng was a soggy place that evening; next door to the restaurant the frogs were singing in the rain and it didn’t seem right to be eating them.

And it was still raining in the morning when the rally set off, toward Neak Luong and the vehicular ferry which would take the group over the Mekong for the final leg of 40km back into Phnom Penh.
The wait at the ferry was short, the sellers were not too persistent and then the procession was suddenly across, disembarking and speeding off along Highway 1. Back in Land Cruiser country, Kandal province, the familiar reckless speed and dangerous overtaking began, so everyone kept close to the side of the road. At one point a three-cyclo pile-up occurred, causing great mirth; a thin tree a fortunate barrier to a dunk in the river below. At Preaek Aeng, Royal krama in hounds tooth burgundy, donated by the Palace, were hemmed by some local seamstresses and tied across torsos for the grand entrance into the capital; paper Cambodian flags were threaded into split chopsticks and attached by rubber-bands to handlebars and cyclo side mirrors. Regal and fluttering, the rally was only 20km from its destination.

Most were pensive along this stretch and probably tired, so it was often difficult to stay in line at the pace the rally had slowed to. The group reached the busy Phsar Khbal Thnol before crossing Monivong Bridge without a hitch, although the traffic police there-on-in were not as helpful as their provincial equivalents. Some of the barang cyclists took it upon themselves to become honorary traffic wardens stopping rush-hour traffic down Norodom Boulevard whilst police gawped. But it was a moment of total jubilation when everyone dragged their wheels over the rough stones beneath Wat Phnom, past two parallel lines of waiting cyclo drivers who greeted their colleagues with great applause. Sarany Nouv, 25, The Cyclo Centre’s coordinator gave an incredibly empowering speech, while her rally of admirers cheered.

And although most of us will never know the world of a cyclo driver nor the cyclo driver perhaps our world, for three days, everyone on the rally shared something: all traveling the same distance, in the same shirts, in the same hats, after the same lunches, and there at Wat Phnom, all with the same feeling of satisfaction. For all of those on the rally, this was an unparalleled journey.