Just Call Me the Weaver

     Today my friend F. and I parted ways for the day – she went for a spa day and I went to visit Mekong Island silk weavers. I had arranged with a travel agent for a tuk tuk driver to take me to Silk Island, however along the way when he asked for directions, we were lured to Mekong Island instead, which was much closer. Initially I was a bit irritated as I paid a higher price to be driven to Silk Island, however I wasn’t quite sure in the beginning just what was up, as my driver did not speak much English and did not understand my question. In any case, it turned out to be an amazing trip just the same as I met Jenny, a weaver from Mekong Island who soon explained to me that there were just as many weavers on Mekong Island as Silk Island, only not so far to go. Given the day was hot and the road was bumpy, I decided to go along. She promised to take me to her house and to her sister’s house where the weaving was done in her family.

     We met Jenny along the road to where the ferry to Mekong Island docked, and followed her there. While we waited for the ferry I probed her about how much she was going to charge me for translating and showing me around the island, only to find she did not want money, but did expect me to buy silk weaving from her, which was fine with me as I did expect to buy something directly from the weavers I met. Once the ferry arrived, I learned that the tuk tuk driver could drive onto the small ferry and take me around Mekong Island. Once we docked on the island, it was clear why I would need the driver. There was no organized tour of any of the weavers, and the island was simply a village of many houses, most of whom were silk weavers. There was no real road, just a path for motorbikes, bicycles and of course, cows and oxen…the tuk tuk drivers could also drive this road, and we were in for a hell of a bumpy ride since the rains had mostly destroyed the road and left it with many potholes. We didn’t have to drive through any flood waters but it was apparent that there had been much flooding. Jenny said it was up to her waist at the highest, but had since receded this past month at the end of the rainy season.

     After much bumping over the road we arrived at the house of Jenny’s sister. A simple shack with a large area underneath for weaving. There were two looms set up and two of her sisters were busy weaving the same design. They were happy to see a foreigner and to show me how they wove the cloth. I learned that it takes them one full day of weaving to make 2 metres of cloth. Before long the weaving for sale was brought out and I was overwhelmed with the weaving of 4 people who had things to sell. It was pressure, but I didn’t mind as I was grateful for the opportunity to see it all in action and the family was so very friendly. I bought several pieces being sure to buy some from every weaver. Jenny was quick to tell me that I would get a special discount from her, which I did as I only paid $25 for a large silk bedspread, bargain and a half of course. I bought another table runner from the weaver who showed me how to weave, and scarves from the other weavers.

     Allie then sat me down and showed me how to do the weaving and one of the family members took photos of my efforts. It was not difficult to do, but easily long and tedious work to weave thread by thread. I shot the bobbin through too fast at one point and it sailed onto the floor, breaking the thread, which I was very worried about but everyone laughed long and hard at my mistake, so I relaxed quickly after. Then there were more photos, more chat about the weaving before we were off to see Jenny’s house. She was quick to tell me she is very poor and that her sister’s house was much bigger than hers. I told her not to worry about it, that I was honored to see her house and meet her family. A long bumpy ride to the other end of the island and we arrived at Jenny’s house. It was a very simple shack with two levels of sleeping chambers and an open level for daily sitting and working. I was soon surrounded by children, some hers, some nieces and nephews and other various children that lived nearby. All of whom crowded around to see this foreigner Jenny had brought home. I met her husband who had no English and seemed a bit shy as we sat around and chatted briefly. I then asked if I could get a photo of all of the children and Jenny, which they readily complied, and then I showed them the photo afterwards, to which the children all giggled. Several goodbyes later and we were on our way.

     Next stop was the local pagoda where Jenny and her family go to worship Buddha. It was currently flooded so the doors were closed and we could only see outside. It was next door to a school that was buzzing with children who all swarmed me to see the foreigner, with some shouting hello, while others braved it and came to talk to me. My skin color was of great importance as my pasty white legs were compared to their darker skin. I told them I wanted browner legs as I usually wore long skirts and didn’t tan, but had shorts on today for the heat. Lots of giggles and then a visit from one of Jenny’s friends who wanted me to buy some scarves. Feeling somewhat obligated, I bought three more, making my scarf count well over 20 now…I hope my friends and family all know they are getting a scarf from me for Christmas…

     It was then time to start heading back to the ferry to the mainland, dropping Jenny off at her sister’s house to weave. Many more greetings and goodbyes there, and Jenny insisted that I take her mobile number. I tried to ask for a mailing address so I could send a post card and possibly a parcel with some Canadian things in it, but this was impossible. There was no mail that came to Mekong Island and unless someone had a post office box in town, no one received any mail. Jenny insisted that I was now her sister and was welcome to come to her house when I returned to Cambodia and she would cook me a proper Cambodian meal. I made no promises other than if I come back to Cambodia, I would come to see her.

     My tuk tuk driver and I then made our way to the ferry where it was already docked and rolled onboard. They then loaded a cow onboard and tied her down which she bucked against and made it known she was not up for a ferry ride. She eventually settled, but I could see the fear in her eyes and felt for her. A dusty ride back to Phnom Penh and the tour was over. Along the way the driver whose name I cannot recall – Ravana or something like that, had mentioned that he came to Phnom Penh to drive tuk tuk but there are so many drivers in town with many of them coming in from Thailand now because of severe flooding there, he sometimes goes days without a fare, so often does not eat. I felt bad for him so when we arrived back in town, I gave him an extra $5 and suggested that he get something to eat today. He thanked me profusely and disappeared into the city. It was a good day and an experience to remember.