A river cruise, one might argue, is one of the best ways to see a place. Watching real life go by from the ship’s deck (or even your bed) means that your position as voyeur reigns supreme. As the water guides you quietly in all its floating womb action, the laps against the wood below rocks you between the real and the surreal – a perfect place to venture into your meditation practice. And then as the vessel docks on land a new kind of vital access is found; one that a car, or plane or touristy motorbike may never have been able to reach. The perfect balance between peaceful and energetic wrapped into one odyssey.
The Mekong River, or in Lao-Thai toponymy “Mother of Water,” has long been the provenance of life for six kindred Asian countries. From its Tibetan Plateau this life force runs through China's Yunnan province, Burma (or call it Myanmar), Laos, Thailand, Cambodia and mouths to the sea in Vietnam’s Mekong Delta. The river itself carries a natural history of biodiversity, second only to the Amazon, which means that seeing giant soft-shell turtles, stingrays, fresh water dolphins, Siamese crocodiles and hundreds of bird species were all on the vigilance for my trip.
Of course since it’s a “living river” the array of local people living and praying at temples on the banks and in their floating homes bring another dimension to river cruising. The reality of river life was one of the most fascinating aspects that this cruise presented to me; a moment’s reflection of what was seen as good and even bad in this life. It was American writer Tucker Elliot in his “The Rainy Season” that said: “No matter the border, the Mekong has been an indiscriminate giver and taker of life in Southeast Asia for thousands of years. It’s a paradox like civilization’s other great rivers - be it the Nile, Indus, Euphrates, Ganges or China’s Sorrow the Huang He - for without its waters life is a daily struggle for survival; yet with its waters life is a daily bet that natural disasters and diseases will visit someone else’s village, because it’s not if, but when it’s going to happen that’s the relevant question.”
Although the river has been a conduit for local people and their goods for centuries – with the first civilizations dating back to the 1st century Indianised-Khmer culture of Funan in the Mekong Delta – it has historically been rather difficult to navigate. But for an explorer of the world with a keen interest in uncovering the secluded a journey on and off a riverboat here made absolute adventure sense. Today high tech boats like Aqua Expeditions’ Aqua Mekong – who took its maiden’s voyage not so long ago - mostly circumvent the difficulties of rapids or waterfalls and certainly the forgotten French Indochina War’s underwater bombs. But of course they don’t just con this historically and culturally rich area of the world; they steer it in the best luxury you could possibly desire.
My own journey floated from just outside the Vietnamese city Saigon, or as it is also called Ho Chi Minh City, in the Mekong Delta and ended in the Cambodian capital of Phnom Penh. The Mekong Delta is the perfect place to commence a journey: with factories dotting the river’s edge, and people working their commercial ventures all around our boat the activity was infinite. I arrived at this luxury vessel and realized that I’ll be floating for the next few days around these unknown worlds and that jumpstarted my excitement.
Once on board the vessel life was festive. Days started off with dark roasted local coffee in bed watching as the morning duties of the Vietnamese river bank people commenced; washing clothes and donkeys, sewing nets for fishing and arranging their floating markets with fresh produce and hand made crafts for the day’s sales. A post breakfast excursion lifted me out on a skiff and into the tributaries of this great river. With a bicycle and a sunhat I took to the rice paddies and cycled about waving at schoolgirls in neat green and brown Catholic uniforms. The little bike paths ran from paddy to paddy and allowed all of the riverside life access to each other’s villages; a connection much deeper than social media I had thought.
Afternoons were reserved for naps and working out in the gym while watching little fishing boats rev by. When that provoked sun came down every day in all its redness I watched as the cattle were herded home and the candle light of the villages were struck up all to the soft chanting that launched from the temples nearby. Twilight here was momentary but that last bit of life force sun was respected and celebrated all along the riverbanks. With my legs crossed facing the water I strummed deep breaths and felt the ancient world around me whisper me to a deep meditation.
By evening it was time for socializing and sharing and food usually channeled such agreeableness for me. Meals on the boat, utterly traditional affairs by Australian Bangkok-based chef David Thompson, included curries from Thailand, minimal broths from Laos and unusual Khmer food that I’d never heard of before: it was as wild as what the scenery presented outside, and just as wondrous. Late nights, under a smear of stars, the pool allowed for cooling down and taking in the sounds of bio-diversity below. Forget the French Champagne, this was about being setting appropriate, the escape from all things pretentious and a return to reverence for the world’s divergent.
Vietnam, and going up the river, wasn’t beautiful in a traditional sense. The Amazon for instance, had its natural beauty that boasted along the boat. But here it was more about the observance of a beautiful life, seeing how the simple things can be done in a mindful and respectful way. As I looked out at people actively involved in life’s daily chores and time fillers I saw the splendor of the ordinary, the philosophy of “how” and not “what” suddenly became clear and I was able to see how people with much less materially actually had so much more happiness as they spent their lives in single minded actions and so appreciating (and honoring) the moment so much more. The lessons, albeit they ancient, were relevant and ideal for me right this instance as I cruised down this river of life with a deeper knowing that what I arrived with.
After a few days of venturing out to see the Vietnamese world on the shore every day with the skiffs, we eventually crossed over into Cambodia. The country, substantially less developed, immediately offered its pristine and naïve allure from the banks to everyone on the boat. With the last century’s difficult heritage that comes with Cambodia and its Khmer Rouge, the water seemed to have healed by taking the blood of the country and washing it down the river to the endless sea. Slowly cruising around Cambodia and towards its capital life on the edge of the river seemed so much more rustic, and the waves from locals and the invitations into their homes for some green tea were certainly sincere.
I wanted to experience the temples of Cambodia, not just the famed and ancient Angkor Wat, but also the living temples where people who lived on the banks of the rivers delivered their offerings and spent their days in prayer. A little skiff took me across and in all its glory and kitchness (in my silly silly Western mind) I found a temple with pointy-hatted gods and ornate curls around the edges of the building. I found a quiet spot to sit in prayer. Nearby local ladies were using silk worms for weaving, kids were running home from school with oversized backpacks, older priests were burning palm trees as offerings and my mind stopped. I was able to stop the monkey mind’s busy dance and just sit in total silence. The peace of the country now, the silence I carried from days on the water and the sense of adventure took me deep into a meditation.
When I opened my eyes a stray dog had cuddled up against my leg and was ready for his sleep and the temple was abandoned for the evening. A slow walk back to the boat, and its entire splendor, gave me a moment to reflect. It is in the exploration of the wild and the unknown (plus all those silly preconceived ideas somewhere ricocheting in my mind) where we are able to see ourselves more clearly. Luckily the world has become small and accessible and a little hop on a plane to a boat that commandeers a famous maternal river is just one way of accessing the silence and all that adventure within us.
How to boat the Mekong River:
Aqua Expeditions: aquaexpeditions.com