The tension between economic development and the sustainable management of forests, wildlife, and natural resources in the rural and protected areas of South East Asia is a momentous challenge. Illegal logging, hunting, and clearing for farms threaten the species and the integrity of the forest ecosystems and watersheds. Illegal activities are caused both by poverty and by commercial exploitation of natural resources. International demand for wildlife and wildlife products also contribute to the destruction of biodiversity.
CBET addresses the drivers of deforestation and the demand for wildlife on a local level with financial and technical assistant from Wildlife Alliance. These CBET projects aim to provide villagers with economically and ecologically sustainable income opportunities from tourism and help them protect the biodiversity and natural resources of their region.
We arrived at the CBET office in the small, road-side village of Trapeang Rung to a wide-eyed and smiling welcome party. They had even made a 'Welcome James and Sally' sign - it was a kind touch that made us feel instantly at home.
After a heartfelt introduction from the CBET team, we cycled across dirt track and sand to a small, traditional village by the river to our homestay: a modest, wooden family home where we would stay for the night. We were welcomed once again with opened arms and settled into our simple, homely room.
Our host family spoke not one word of English, not a whisker, so we had to speak Khmer to them as best we could, learning a few choice words and phrases that sent the family and their numerous guests into chortles of laughter each time we spoke. Myt, the gap-toothed lady of the house, would just take my hand into hers and hold it there and that was all the communication we needed.
That afternoon we got our hands dirty making traditional Namchak cakes, a sticky, sweet local delicacy grilled on an open flame and served in palm leave parcels. Simple, delicious and so sugary it's a miracle the villagers have any teeth left at all.
As the sun went down, our new family fed us a feast of pork and dried fish which we ate by the light of a kerosene lamp from a small table in the kitchen, sitting cross-legged on the floor boards and politely accepting the extra helpings they insisted we eat. We said our thanks, I tried and failed to help with the washing up in a bucket and then moved to the wooden step to look out at the stars. But we were quickly hurried off to bed by Myt and it was only 6.20pm! With no way to communicate our puzzlement, we washed by candle light using the tub of water in the bamboo bathroom and then laid on our thin mattress and listened to the comings and goings of the family for the next two hours or more. We never did find out why we were sent to bed so early, but we did have a big day ahead of us.
Early the next morning we cycled on our rickety bicycles to meet our jungle guide, Virak, and our jungle cook, Thyra, who would be our only company and lifeline for the next three days. We were about to trek into the dense Cambodian jungle and through the foothills of the Cardamom mountains. We were going where no man had been before...well, certainly where no tourist had ever been before. We were their first trekkers and that made us a little apprehensive - so this was what a real adventure tastes like.
Virak and Thyra were both ex-hunters and employed by CBET, taught basic English and equipped with a new trade as trekking companions. And as far as trekking companions go, they were the best! We had such good fun, laughing and joking around with them despite the language barrier and the often treacherous conditions on the trek.
Off we set. We sweated through jungle terrain, wading through filthy bogs, flicking off leaches and avoiding the tangles of spider webs. We hiked up a mountain to eat our salty pork, omelette and rice lunch, packed neatly in a little betel nut box - it was lip-smacking tasty and would be our staple meal for the next three days. We then hiked and stumbled down the mountain after spotting bats in a cave and beautiful hornbills, gliding across the infinite views of the thick rainforest that lay ahead of us.
By some miracle, after nearly seven hours of trekking and sweating, we arrived at our humble camp for the night. Med had a nasty blister and my feet looked like wizened prunes - it's like our trekking in Nepal was but a daydream. Virak and Thyra, ever the hard working duo, hung brand new hammocks from the asymmetrical frame that had been erected using trees from the site. And that was camp.
Med and I headed to the river for a wash and let our wet clothes sizzle in the low afternoon sun, still hot and glowing. Thyra, despite having lost one hand in some accident we couldn't quite fathom from the broken English and puzzling charades he used, was amazingly adept and, with the help of Virak, lit a fire and cooked us up a feast of pork, vegetables and rice. The remaining pork was then left out to dry in the sun with our clothes - I pretended not to notice it was crawling with ants! We would eat that pork for another two days.
After dinner, we sat around the fire and drank sweet, hot coffee from small, recycled food tins and watched the stars come out and throw a twinkling blanket over our tiny camp and the vast jungle around us. Into the hammocks we go, a comfy little place to sleep with a mosquito net to keep the bugglies out.
I hardly slept that night as I was on the edge of camp right next to the dense, moving jungle.
Crunch, creep, scamper, squawk.
The next morning, we flopped out of our hammocks as the sun rose, enticed by the streamy wafts of breakfast: rice, omelette and coffee in a tin. As everything at camp was carried on the aching backs of Virak and Thyra, packing up took a while each morning as they methodically crammed their backpacks until bursting point. Today, we insisted on carrying our own lunches in the handmade packs.
With almost-dry socks, we trekked on with a bounce in our step once more, looking up through the sky-scraping trees to follow the calls of jungle birds. We spotted a few gibbons, swinging themselves along the vines - funky, we mused. The dense rainforest gave way to dry plains of white-barked trees and scrub, where we laid out in the shade for lunch of, you guessed it, pork, rice and omelette.
That afternoon, while walking, Thyra leaped in the air and backwards letting out a squeak of surprise. It was an amber snake and a deadly one at that, as Virak demonstrated, crossing his finger across his neck, making a face and saying "die". Expecting a giant cobra, I tiptoed forward for a look at this venomous beast in our path. It was minuscule compared to my imagined enemy, but this made it all the more unsettling. I could stand on one of these at any moment. A few deep breaths later and I'm good to go, my eyes now glued to the leafy, rough terrain underfoot. Within ten minutes, Med then spots another snake, this time black, but equally poisonous.
We are in the middle of the jungle, on a freshly trodden trail and we are surrounded by snakes. I was tense all afternoon, my eyes making snake shapes out of branches and leaves.
That evening's camp was by a huge waterfall, blissful in the last of the sunlight. We went for a swim to shed the day's trekking grime. As we dried off, Med discovered two fat leeches on his bloody blister, which made it bleed without coagulating. My stomach flipped and my knees buckled when he asked for help, so he had to fend for himself.
Meanwhile, I was still on a snake hunt, which made going to the toilet in the jungle away from camp a major event. But as we ate our supper (of pork, omelette and rice) in the fading light by the waterfall, our troubles were washed away and I slept very well indeed that night. I must buy a hammock when I get home.
The last day was another long one, but we enjoyed our breaks of swimming in the river we had to cross and stopping off in a tiny village for lunch. Many of the villagers, including the children, had never seen foreigners before and they were asking Virak about the marks on my skin (my freckles) and said I had a very long, thin nose! "What about his nose?" I cried, pointing at Med's sizable conk. They all just giggled, and carried on pointing at mine. We handed out little packets of biscuits to the children and bought iced coffee made with condensed milk - it was the best coffee I've ever tasted.
As we ambled back towards CBET, you'd think we had returned from a war zone. We received a heroes welcome from the villagers, who were waving and shouting at us and handing our guides a can of beer each. We took Virak and Thyra for an ice cold beer in a small shack and toasted our trek - "jul mouy!"
We headed back to our homestay in the dark, where this time there was no early curfew as there was a bit of a party (on a Monday) happening. The extended family were sat around on the wooden slats drinking beer out of any receptacle they could find (we got a metal bowl), insisting we sit down and join them.
Exhausted, aching and stinking of sweat and leech repellant, we eventually made our excuses and headed for a candlelit bucket shower and bed. Off to the land of nod, dreaming of snakes, waterfalls, rice and pork.
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