I’m talkin’ long. I wonder if there are record books and fame for the fish who have made it from one side to the other.
She begins all the way up in Tibet. And flows in every which direction until she hits the sea after Vietnam. She’s murky and, at first, seemed to me rather unappealing. But then I bumped into her in the strangest of places. She was like that neighbor you avoid in the supermarket, popping up in the Vietnam aisle, the Cambodia aisle and even the Laos aisle. By the time I arrived in Thailand, I had grown to expect her. And even enjoy her company.
After so much time with the Mekong, I realized how many people depend on her. She supports remote villages on her banks and floating within her. She is home to schools of dolphins. She is the manufacturer, highway and delivery truck for fish nets planted by men in sarongs. She is the deserted road leading to towns where the most wanted criminals can hide. She is the bath and shower for naked children, fully clothed adults, and naked water buffalo. Her banks have ignited the contemplation of many a sunset.
Brown is the new blue.
Naked kids screaming ‘Hellooooooo!’ in Cambodia.
Growing up barefoot.
Monks heading up the banks in Laos.
My longboat that maneuvered through the pointy rocks of Laos.
Door-to-door saleswomen.
Hour 5 of the 10-hour journey through Cambodia.