Things I’ve Learned While Roaming the Earth

A few friends and I took a backpacking trip into the furthermost reaches of the Cambodian jungle, on the borderlands of Vietnam.  It was odd to see that even in a place so removed as this, still the distinction between civilization and the natural world could be clearly seen.

In the picture, a farmer has cleared a small plot of land away from the groping arms of the impenetrable jungle to grow rice for his family.  Our foot path led along the border of the jungle, with just enough room between the rice and trees to walk and make our way.  I was mesmerized by such a stark contrast, and also how it related to man — how each of us, in our own hearts, retains some of our natural, freeborn spirit, while on the whole, society is chipping it away piece by piece, creating for itself a subdued and productive model citizen.

Our journey through the Cambodian National Forest led us to some interesting encounters.  A French journalist was also there, making a documentary of the forest, and we being the only foreigners hiking through the forest at the time, were asked if he could document our experience and follow us along.  He was overjoyed to find us, having traveled all the way to the end of the road, as it were, and expecting to find many people to film, but finding no one.  Apparently he had been there for two days, filming the wildlife, when we finally came sauntering through.  By day, he went ahead of us as we walked through the unknown.  And by night, sitting around a small fire with a deck of playing cards, laughing and talking about life, he was content to slowly circle.  Reality TV at its finest, I’m sure.  I’ve tried dozens of times to find that documentary, but sadly, none of us ever thought to ask him what he was going to name it once it was finished.

But back to the farmer.  I was very intrigued by their method of building a life for themselves.  It seemed, as far as we could tell, that when a man came of age in their village, he would begin clearing for himself a section of the nearby jungle, and would build himself a small hut from the wood and begin to plant rice.  However much jungle he wished to clear would be his allotted portion, and he’d be able to farm it to his hearts content for the rest of his life.

This farmer lived in the middle of her field, her rice growing all around her.  A small hut a few hundred feet away was her son’s farm.  I’ve always had a fascination with American history, especially the pioneers who went out west and established farms wherever their feet happened to lead them.  In coming to this place in the forgotten jungles of Cambodia, I was mesmerized by the lifestyle that seemed so similar.  But soon, we were compelled to return.  Our trip lasted only a short week.

And though we have returned to normal civilization, I often recall fond memories of tromping around in the jungle.  Being there reminded me of something that’s been lost in the modern age.  For though civilization as a whole has made many advancements, it’s lost something as well — namely man’s struggle against the natural world, being limited only by how hard he’s willing to work, making a living by the sweat of his brow and the work of his hands.