A ferry on the Mekong River, the new frontier of mission in Cambodia
Kdol Leu (AsiaNews) - The following is a letter sent by Fr. Luca Bolelli to his friends around the world. A native of Bologna, he has been serving as a priest of the Pontifical Institute for Foreign Missions (PIME) in Cambodia for the past eight years.
Dearest friends,
fraternal greetings from Cambodia! Thank you for all you are doing for the Cambodian Church and the people. This year I would like to tell you ... about a ferry.
I never thought that a simple ferry could become such an interesting place. Yet I feel as if I have met more people up there than on land! I know that's not true, but every time I take that boat, I find myself surrounded by such a diverse crowd, it feels like the whole world is present: Khmer, Cham, Vietnamese, Buddhists, Muslims, young women with children hanging everywhere, older women laden with fish for the market, groups of students in school uniform, poor families squashed together like skewers on the saddle of a miserable scooter, rich families comfortably seated in big cars, vans crammed with passengers confused among baggage, tourists of various colors, hawkers of all kinds, uniformed policemen and ordinary people.
The different faces of this crowd are familiar to me, but many others are still new to me, although I have been taking this ferry now for several years to cross the Mekong River. It is in fact the only way to get across, to Stung Trong, where you will find our Student Centre. Sometimes we have to wait more than an hour before it arrives, fills, and resumes its journey across the kilometer of water that separates the two sides.
"What a waste of time!", I was beginning to think. "What a special time", I would say now. It's a bit like when you're in the waiting room of a station or a medical clinic. You are there, in the midst of so many other people for the most part unknown, waiting. A often embarrassing moment, everyone trying to pass time. But here in Cambodia it is different. Here, even with those we do not know chats with ease. Just think that the normal greeting (our "good morning") in Cambodian is a question, "where are you going?", and this can start up a long conversation with anyone!
I remember once: it was the last ferry of the day, I had just finished talking on the phone, and a man who looked somewhat suspect asked me where I was going; and after that all the classic series of questions: "Where do you live?", "what do you do?", "Are you married?" [in Cambodia there is a very tolerant concept of privacy!]. And when he learned that I was a Christian leader in the area, he has suddenly enthused: "Come to my village! Open a church !! A school!!!". He asked me for my phone number, and a few weeks later I was invited to his home. Unfortunately, because of our scarce resources, we have been unable to do anything so far.
I also remember another occasion when I began a long conversation with a Muslim gentleman on our respective religions. He was following the Ramadan fast, but at the same time each day on an empty stomach had to work to support their families. His calm tone, the sincere questions he asked deeply impressed me. Very different from those of another man who, long ago, having learned that I was a Christian shamelessly laughed at me!
There really is a whole world to encounter on board the ferry. Such as Nott, 40 years old, more than 20 destroyed by alcohol. One day he decided to change his life, he heard that the ferry needed manpower and so took the opportunity to leave his village and earn some money. How many conversations we have had together leaning on the railings of the ferry. I felt a sincere respect for the man capable of breaking a habit that was so ingrained. Unfortunately then (he) had a fight with the owner of the ferry and left. I saw him again with pleasure a few days ago while he was working near a boat. I sincerely hope that his new life is continuing.
Returning to the owner of the ferry, too, albeit after an initial period of mistrust and few words spoken, half-syllable, eventually she too has become a habitual companion on my crossing. And it was she who so often intervened when someone inquired about my "marital status", saying, almost with a touch of pride: "He is not married, he is unmarried like our Buddhist monks, but he is for life ". She, too, a few months ago, had to go. Her brusque manner attracted the enmity of too many people and, after a year of protests, the Ministry of Transport decided to revoke her license and take over the management of the ferry.
Several times I also met barang tourists (Western): cyclists often more or less equipped, sometimes bikers on their large off-road bikes or in groups organized by some travel agency. In these cases I have to take the initiative: "Where are you going? Where are you from? What do you do?". Some look at me suspiciously, making me realize that it is not appropriate, others instead respond giving rise to entertaining conversations. There are even those who have stayed at my house, like Eveline, a twenty year old French woman, who was touring the world on her own on her bike. That day I was on a prize trip with the staff of the mission and we saw her on the ferry. We exchanged a few words, and with a little trust , Eveline became one of us.
In the Cambodian language the expression "cross the river" with a ferry, it is also used to indicate giving birth. Childbirth, as well as crossing the treacherous waters of the river, is always a risk. I think of Ming Touch who has recently given birth to a beautiful girl of almost 3 pounds; I think of Mary giving birth to Jesus, far from home, in a stable. Mary "crossed the river" like Ming Touch. But not only them. They say that life is a continuous birth, a continuous rebirth: coming out of ourselves, resuming our journey on the road, and through the many "rivers" that seem to interrupt our path.
The government has announced the construction of a bridge for next year that will replace the ferry. Crossing the river will be easier, faster and less risky. But to be honest, it is not news that made me glad, because we will lose so also the "risk" of unexpected encounters, forced by the slow pace and the confined spaces of the ferry.
Ah, I forgot to Visna! For some 'of months I would often encounter him on the ferry, with his worn pants, consumed by having to drag himself on the ground, his legs are stiff and he cannot stand up. He lives by asking for charity, but is still young, under 30. He is an orphan, and as a child no one ever really took any interest in him; moreover, according to the common mentality if he is so down on his luck, he must have earned it in some previous life; giving him a handful of riels, like charity, it is more than enough. Visna then is used to be looked at from the top down. But when I get on the ferry and cross his eyes to exchange at least a smile, he often echoes the words of Jesus who said: "The smallest among you, is the greatest."
And when I see certain luxury cars, with all the honors governmental glistening, boarding the ferry making the space, I would imagine that a good time to pause in front of Visna to bow, as the Magi before the baby Jesus! In fact, Jesus became small and chose the least among us as his representatives: "What you have done for the least of my brothers you did for me” he said one day. Next month Visna will begin studying in the center Disabled run by the Jesuits in Phnom Penh. After knocking around on a few doors, it seems that we managed to find the right place for him.
He is very happy. And we are too!
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
May the Lord grant peace, to Nott, to Visna to you all.
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09/01/2018 15:23
