River reflections-the mighty Mekong.

Near my home in Wivenhoe, the River Colne ebbs and flows repeatedly, as you might expect, drawing people to its easy shores. In the past this gentle river supported a thriving fishing industry, providing boats with a safe base between outings to the unpredictable North Sea. Shipbuilder’s yards flourished and cargo ships travelled upstream bringing coal and grain to The Hythe. The river was regularly dredged to maintain its depth back then but now the dredging has stopped, freight transport has stopped and few seafaring fishermen live here.

Houses for commuters stand proud on the site of the former shipyards and the river attracts people at leisure – sailors, dog-walkers, birdwatchers and photographers. Children ride bikes along the quayside, drop crabbing lines over the edge, or feed the ducks and swans – I am lucky to have this on my doorstep; water, an essential ingredient of life. Recently, in Cambodia I found another fine river, which drew me to it. Much larger than the Colne and situated on the other side of the world, the mighty Mekong River impressed me with its remarkable and unusual flow pattern.

Here nature has exercised its very own feat of engineering, and a side branch of the Mekong leading to the great lake which is Tonle Sap, has developed a natural flow reversal system, thus preserving its relationship with survival. Fluctuation of the water volume in the Mekong in wet and dry seasons is the cause of this unique phenomenon – a safety valve in a watery and beautiful landscape. Flooded mangrove forests flourish within the vast expanse of Tonle Sap, and water hyacinth invade and seek to clog. On hot and humid October days I saw fishermen living with their families in stilt houses; others on riverboats lived in floating villages. The people, who had little money, survived entirely off what water can provide, literally living on the water. Children and dogs were bathed in tin baths, their wardrobe was a washing line, and for a few lucky families, pigs were kept in floating cages.

I was told the life expectancy of the fishermen was lower than elsewhere in Cambodia and certainly lower than ours in the western world – probably due to risks of infection or drowning, as well as heart and liver disease. Nevertheless they welcomed us with smiles and seemed surprisingly relaxed with their lifestyle – surely they couldn’t put that on just for the tourists? They worked, lived, played and had babies on the river, free from some of the worries of modern life that make us frown and go off sick with stress; a different world with different expectations. The mighty Mekong flows from its source in Tibet through six countries. It pauses awhile in Cambodia at Tonle Sap before reaching Vietnam and the slow, ever-shifting Mekong basin. Here the river, edged with water-coconut, is wide and voluptuous before it splits into nine wandering fingers; the ‘Nine Dragon River’ delta. Finally its water, brown as milky tea, tips into the South China Sea. Fish are the corpuscles within the life-blood of the river and along with rice from the surrounding paddy fields, they provide Cambodia and Vietnam with important industries. The waterways look busy with river traffic; ships carrying freight chunter past tourist boats, houseboats and fishing vessels, large and small. The Mekong is a force of nature, a spectacle to behold, an almost a living thing. It was a privilege to dip in to the life of this monster, but now I’m content to return to my beautiful English river, walk along its banks, and feed the birds.

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