Alarm bells ring early and loud. We have only just arrived at the main jetty, let alone boarded the boat that will transport us out into the midst of the famous floating village of Chong Kneas. Smelling exploitation (of them and us) a mile away, off we sailed into the most prominent tourist trap so far – and we couldn’t take our eyes off it.

After arriving back from yet another sojourn around the Angkor Archaeological Park, we wait in the hotel lobby to be picked up for a ‘Sunset Dinner Cruise’ to Chong Kneas floating fishing village on the fabled Tonle Sap lake.

A distaste for anything floating or boat-related started to surface for Dan, not to mention my phobia for water any deeper than one metre. It turned out that the lake in the village was no deeper than one metre. Still, we are secretly hoping to be forgotten, but instead, find ourselves being bundled into a comfy little minivan. Whisking out through the poverty-stricken suburbs, we rattle down dusty streets and head for the lake. Suburban residents exist only one minute away from the bustling oasis of the centre of town. We take in the sweet curry aromas of their lunch and the panorama of tin shacks.

This nifty little four-hour tour is a great way to see an area completely different from the rest of Siem Reap and its surrounding temples. We learn along the way about numerous aspects of life within various communities. We stop at a roadside Lotus farm, where three kids rush out to present me with varying sculptures of lotus flowers. I choose the one that has been folded expertly into a rose and happily hand over yet another dollar.

First signs of a tourist trap

Many, many alarm bells ring on arrival at the big, modern jetty, with its gift shop and tourist coaches galore clustered in the massive car park. The jetty was the most significant tourist trap that we had seen so far, and it caused concern for what lay ahead at the floating village. Angkor Wat, Ta Prohm and the like were full of tourists, yes, but this – what should be – enchanting, authentic village on the water just reeked of exploitation.

As we zoom off down the river toward the lake itself, I can hardly bring myself to take many pictures. The locals are just going about their business re-painting their boats, and kids are carrying baskets of assorted produce along the banks. We can’t help but peek into floating cottages with open doors. At the same time, inside them, there is just ordinary domestic stuff going on.

I feel like an alien. I feel like an invader! I feel like a tourist pig. And alongside this tableau, there is some enormous and hideous concrete structure happening over to the right. I am appalled to learn that the construction may be a ‘Resort’.

The village

Emerging out onto the lake is incredible, and that’s when we see the real floating village. The residents are going about their business, washing and cooking. I wonder what their life is like being watched like a zoo animal by these vulgar tourists.

The amount of tin shacks that have a flat-screen TV inside is incredible, and I ponder that they can afford them because of us. Kids are floating in huge metal bowls and posing with snakes (for a dollar of course), there is a crocodile “farm” (cage), and even a floating gift shop out on the lake. The gift shop has an excellent upstairs platform if your inner voyeur needs more of an overall view of people’s daily lives.

A tropical lightning show

We don’t get much of a sunset due to cloud cover, but instead, on the way back up the river, we get the best lightning show ever. EVER. You don’t get lightning like this back home in a temperate climate. Without a complete description of the spectacular nature of tropical lightning, let’s say that I’d rather watch this than a movie.

Of course, somewhere along the way, the camera’s memory card has to fill up just one second before the mother of all lightning cracks. I just missed what I believe was the best possible bit of footage in living memory (OK, for that whole week at least). Now I am faced with the option of changing the camera’s memory card. I am in the dark, on a river, and in fear of losing whole a day’s worth of images.

What if I should I be a butterfingers and accidentally toss the card overboard into the murk of the Tonle Sap Lake tributary? My camera has been known to fling its cards out, clay pigeon style when I try to eject them. I don’t possess that level of paranoia at all, but just in case, I know that some things are best just left as they are. I hope that my brain’s memory card will serve me well for a while longer on this one, but there are just some things that I cannot describe. I’ll try, though. EPIC.

Final thoughts

Here’s my wrap on visiting Chong Kneas floating fishing village – it is something worth seeing as a traveller. Still, deep down I feel that it is unfortunate for the exploited locals (but making $$$), and pretty questionable as a real genuine experience for the rest of us. It’s undoubtedly an authentic place, but not when it’s full of gawking westerners.

Go there and make up your own mind, but if you do, hand out a dollar or two in payment for your entertainment. There is the odd mother with kids begging here and there. Kids are trying to make a buck for a photo, so if they can make money in exchange for us invading their privacy, then hopefully everyone is satisfied. It’s a fascinating tour all up, but we leave with a sense of guilt.

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