From the Champs-Élysées to Cambodia

That is what the owner told me. His flowering tree with its striking, voluptuous orange blossoms was from the Avenue des Champs-Élysées in Paris.

I did not question or dispute him. I just wrote what he said down, there along the road coming up from Kampong Cham, following the west bank of the Mekong River--a road cratered and washboarded for miles and miles. I was happy to be back on macadam when it turned west away from the river and headed toward Chamcar Leu. And when I saw the tree in full bloom the timing could not have been better for a stop.

The owner was about my age, mid-fifties, distinguished looking, shirtless, dressed only in a krama. He was waiting for two students of his, high school girls, who arrived as we talked, sweetness and politeness as they respectfully greeted their teacher.

He spoke both English and French. I thought the lines of his chin and his nose spoke of Caucasian blood, as did the the hair on his chest, which is not typical at all. But I did not ask, nor did I ask to take his picture, that was just not appropriate; he would have said yes, even though he might not have wanted the picture taken, but I knew that no-one Khmer or not would want their picture taken dressed so informally.

As we talked I glanced up the small rise behind us, through a grove of cashew nut trees he said belonged to him to the small wooden cabin from which he had earlier emerged. Retired? Alone? Semi-hermit? That could be me, I thought. A very pleasant and quiet location.

He told me that the seeds for the tree had come from France, that it grew there, along the Champs-Élysées, that there were no other trees like it in Cambodia. I take him at his word, and even if not strictly true, it makes a nice story. But the truth is, I have been obsessed with the flowering trees of Cambodia for at least the last three years, I have been along all of its major roads, more than 25,000 kilometers of driving (along some roads more than once of course), and I have never seen an example of this tree before!

With his permission, I took a GPS reading before I left. I did not want to forget the location and I swore to myself to find my way back for a longer conversation and perhaps more photos.