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It was 5pm when I strolled down to the river bank, Penelope in tow. The frogs were already barking their presence. The last of the ever present bamboo rafts carrying Chinese tourists floated gently past. Some passing villagers called out “Bamboo!”, the only English word in their repertoire, hoping to sell me a ride. “Bu Yao", No thankyou” I answered. Neither Penelope nor I were interested in another kitschy way of spending money.
Finding a place to sit, I pulled out my notebook and listened to the rushing water and insects. At my instigation, Penelope tried to write down some of her own feelings about our trip. She was new to the art of the pen, but I tried to teach her to relaate to it like she does to chopsticks, with which she is quite adept.
As the sun hung low on the horizon, the bamboo raft operators packed up and went home. Just me, P and nature remained. In a nearby field, a hot air balloon inflated and floated away carrying sunset sightseers.
A group of 5 young boys boisterously came down to the river through the rice fields. They called to me, “Hullo! Swimming!”. They laughed and stripped down to their underwear, goading me to join them. After shampooing their hair they dived in. I watched, smiled and waved. I decided not to accept their invitation and leave my bag unattended. The boys frolicked a while before dressing and leaving. Penelope pretended to focus on the hot air balloon, but I suspect her glance wandered a bit periodically.
Dusk in the tropics can be lengthy and I revelled in the noise of insects and flowing water. The peace was incredible. “What’s that?” asked Penelope from behind a bamboo stem she was trying to climb. I also heard the voices. An older group of boys now, perhaps 18 or 19 in age, made their way towards me. “You Yong! Swimming!" They called put to me and within a flash they had surrounded me. “You che ufan ma?” Do you have any food one of them asked, motioning as if he was using chopsticks”. “Mayou”, Sorry I don’t, I answered. Another, trying to be funy, said "Bamboo!" and everyone giggled. Like the younger boys earlier, they pulled off their clothes, but these guys didn’t leave anything on. It was even too much for Penelope, who threw herself into my bag.
One fellow came and squatted next to me, in all his glory. He asked me where I am from and what I do for a living. They were a friendly bunch and eventually I felt safe enough to join them. They were pleased.
As I swam in the middle of the fast flowing water, one of them motioned towards me, telling me to remove my swimming pants. The others watched to see my reaction. “Wei Shenme?” Why, I asked. He played with himself and then pointed at my legs good naturedly. “Wo Bu Shi Nu Ren!” I said in a high pitched voice, I am not a woman. Everyone laughed. A few bawdy jokes followed.
Eventually my new friends also made a move to leave. “Come with us, on my scooter. We can go for dinner, drink, go dancing” he said in mandarin, backed up by impressive body language. I looked around me at the rice paddies. No thanks, I will go to my hotel for dinner. Disappointed the boys left, joking as they went.
It was getting dark and the insects were getting louder. The atmosphere was heavenly. The surrounding rock formations became magical, giant silhouettes.
All at once my legs were attacked by a myriad of mosquitoes. P seems to be immune from mosquitoes for some reason. But she doesn’t want me to suffer. “Time for us to move on” she said, seeing me scratch.
We gathered or things and stood up. We were the last to leave the river.
As we began walking away, a faint form dismounted his motorbike near us in the dark and approached the river bank. Quietly he sucked on a cigarette, the tip lighting up like a firefly. And in his other hand, a sachet of shampoo.
River life, as far as we could see, would continue into the night.
Finding a place to sit, I pulled out my notebook and listened to the rushing water and insects. At my instigation, Penelope tried to write down some of her own feelings about our trip. She was new to the art of the pen, but I tried to teach her to relaate to it like she does to chopsticks, with which she is quite adept.
As the sun hung low on the horizon, the bamboo raft operators packed up and went home. Just me, P and nature remained. In a nearby field, a hot air balloon inflated and floated away carrying sunset sightseers.
A group of 5 young boys boisterously came down to the river through the rice fields. They called to me, “Hullo! Swimming!”. They laughed and stripped down to their underwear, goading me to join them. After shampooing their hair they dived in. I watched, smiled and waved. I decided not to accept their invitation and leave my bag unattended. The boys frolicked a while before dressing and leaving. Penelope pretended to focus on the hot air balloon, but I suspect her glance wandered a bit periodically.
Dusk in the tropics can be lengthy and I revelled in the noise of insects and flowing water. The peace was incredible. “What’s that?” asked Penelope from behind a bamboo stem she was trying to climb. I also heard the voices. An older group of boys now, perhaps 18 or 19 in age, made their way towards me. “You Yong! Swimming!" They called put to me and within a flash they had surrounded me. “You che ufan ma?” Do you have any food one of them asked, motioning as if he was using chopsticks”. “Mayou”, Sorry I don’t, I answered. Another, trying to be funy, said "Bamboo!" and everyone giggled. Like the younger boys earlier, they pulled off their clothes, but these guys didn’t leave anything on. It was even too much for Penelope, who threw herself into my bag.
One fellow came and squatted next to me, in all his glory. He asked me where I am from and what I do for a living. They were a friendly bunch and eventually I felt safe enough to join them. They were pleased.
As I swam in the middle of the fast flowing water, one of them motioned towards me, telling me to remove my swimming pants. The others watched to see my reaction. “Wei Shenme?” Why, I asked. He played with himself and then pointed at my legs good naturedly. “Wo Bu Shi Nu Ren!” I said in a high pitched voice, I am not a woman. Everyone laughed. A few bawdy jokes followed.
Eventually my new friends also made a move to leave. “Come with us, on my scooter. We can go for dinner, drink, go dancing” he said in mandarin, backed up by impressive body language. I looked around me at the rice paddies. No thanks, I will go to my hotel for dinner. Disappointed the boys left, joking as they went.
It was getting dark and the insects were getting louder. The atmosphere was heavenly. The surrounding rock formations became magical, giant silhouettes.
All at once my legs were attacked by a myriad of mosquitoes. P seems to be immune from mosquitoes for some reason. But she doesn’t want me to suffer. “Time for us to move on” she said, seeing me scratch.
We gathered or things and stood up. We were the last to leave the river.
As we began walking away, a faint form dismounted his motorbike near us in the dark and approached the river bank. Quietly he sucked on a cigarette, the tip lighting up like a firefly. And in his other hand, a sachet of shampoo.
River life, as far as we could see, would continue into the night.
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