End of the line for Cambodia’s bamboo trains

Villagers ride on a 'norry' in Kompong Chhnang province, northwest of Phnom Penh. Cambodia is planning an ambitious overhail of its rail network. (Tang Chhin Sothy, AFP/Getty Images / January 17, 2010)

For decades the precarious bamboo platforms have ferried people and goods in the nation’s hinterlands. But increasingly there is little room, or need, for them.

April 27, 2010
By Mark Magnier
Los Angeles Times
Reporting from Battambang, Cambodia

It rattles along at 20 miles an hour, swaying back and forth on uneven rails, the engine so loud it makes your teeth hurt. Then, rather unceremoniously, it runs out of gas and dies.

And you find yourself stranded in the middle of Cambodia on a handmade "norry" train, feeling a bit exposed on a 25-square-foot platform made of bamboo and scrap metal attached to wheels salvaged from old tanks.

Picture one of those hand-pump rail cars depicted in old Westerns, and you're close. It's powered (when it has gas) by a converted outboard engine. The brakes (when it has gas and you need brakes) are a wooden board pushed against the wheels. No seats.

All this bamboo and scrap metal give it a makeshift appearance, and appearances do not deceive. Pretty soon, driver Path Chanthorn starts pushing the disabled norry with hands that are missing a few fingers from a run-in with a water buffalo — "a strong cow," he mutters.

Another norry approaches from the opposite direction, every inch of its platform covered by a dozen people headed for a festival. With a single track to ride on, etiquette dictates that the norry with the lighter load be taken apart so the other can pass. So Chanthorn and his assistant quickly dismantle their vehicle and let the other one by, then put theirs back together again, all within minutes.

And you are on your way.

Now a government plan to upgrade the country's rail system may end up forever stranding the norry, an ingenious response to the decades of war, destruction and dire poverty that have afflicted Cambodia.

Under the Khmer Rouge in the mid-1970s, as the country descended into civil war and mass murder, 2 million people perished. And in leader Pol Pot's quest to reach "Year Zero," Cambodia also saw most of its roads destroyed, its trucks blown up, its locomotives charred.

By the early 1980s, as Cambodia started to emerge from the nightmare, people remembered the small vehicles used by rail workers in the 1960s to repair the tracks and started building their own. The norry, a name some say is derived from a mispronunciation of "lorry," was born.

The humble norry is a reminder of how much Cambodians lost, but it also speaks to their persevering spirit. All but left for dead under Pol Pot's genocidal regime, they defied the odds to rebuild, sometimes literally: Witness the land mine victims who picked up their lives by crafting homemade wooden limbs.

"It shows how ingenious people can be," says Ith Sorn, 55, who's been driving norries for three decades. "Cambodians came up with this when they had almost nothing."

The unique mode of transportation saw its heyday in the 1980s when other vehicles were scarce. "There were bombs and mines everywhere, roads were destroyed and rail cars a shambles," says Kot Sareurn, 50, a union leader for 23 norry drivers in Battambang, a picturesque provincial capital along the tranquil Sangker River. "Norries helped a lot of people survive, get to hospitals, get food."

Initially operators "rowed" the norries with poles, gondola-style, carrying loads of up to 40 people, eight cows or three tons of rice. After a few years, small gasoline engines were added.

Drivers said that at the peak, thousands of norries operated throughout Cambodia, charging villagers only a few cents for a ride but still making a decent living with so many people and possessions jammed aboard.

These days, the few hundred remaining norries are relegated to short distances in a few provinces, more an oddity for tourists than the lifeblood they once represented, as trucks, public buses and motorbikes fill the gap. They're still privately owned, but nowadays companies sometimes own several of them, splitting the profits with drivers.

Safety? Not a problem, Sorn says: "I've never had a bad accident. Only occasionally, if it's overloaded, we'll break down and some goats tumble off."

They've clung to life thanks to the tourists and Cambodia's catatonic rail system. The last train anyone saw around Battambang's Odombang station lumbered through more than a year ago. The norry drivers have since taken over the tiny station, sleeping in hammocks on the platform, littering its dirt floor with their cigarette wrappers.

But there's movement down the line. The government plans to revamp the nation's two modest state-owned rail lines — a 230-mile stretch from Phnom Penh to the border with Thailand completed by the French in 1942, and a 150-mile stretch from the capital to the southwestern Sihanoukville port finished with help from China and Germany in 1969. Government officials envision turning the system over to private operators by early 2012.

This would almost certainly see the go-cart-like norries muscled aside by "real" trains.

"Norries are dangerous, shabby-looking and won't last in the 21st high-tech century," says Touch Chankosal, an official with the Ministry of Public Works and Transport. "Real trains going at over 30 miles per hour would run right over them. The drivers' lives are worth more than preserving norries."

Union leader Sareurn has little nostalgia for the contraptions that have earned his keep for decades. "If the government provides compensation, we'll all stop the next day," he says.

Others aren't quite so sanguine. "I'm worried, but what can you do?" says Chanthorn, 37, who's been driving since he was 10. "The rails belong to the government. We're just borrowing them."

During the Khmer Rouge days, there were no norries, only endless walking by starving people, Sorn says in his house beside the tracks made of beams and tin. His wife, Dorn Mao, 50, shows where she was hacked with a machete by a Khmer Rouge fighter for taking a few bananas. "It's hard to think about," she says.

Recently, more foreigners have been riding his norry, Sorn says, including three with big bellies who initially balked, thinking it too flimsy to support them.

"They worried that the bamboo would break, but bamboo is very strong," he says. "If I can carry eight cows, I can certainly carry a few fat foreigners."

mark.magnier@latimes.com

Cambodians Use Makeshift Trains Built With Bamboo

By VOA Khmer, Washington
Video Editor: Manilene Ek
06 February 2009

Battambang is a main hub to the capital, Phnom Penh, and has long been one of the country's leading rice-producing provinces. It is Cambodia's second largest city with a population of about one million people but trains are irregular, and they often travel at little more than walking pace.

At the Battambang train station abandoned train carriages lay idle, the so-called bamboo trains have become an unofficial part of Cambodia's transport network.

With an official train service departing just once a week, local people have come to rely heavily on the de facto train network. They have taken matters into their own hands by establishing a network of vehicles they call "noris" or "lorries" to get around in. This is bamboo train driver, Ngol Ngoun.

Ngo Ngoun: "It's very safe to travel on this railway here. Plus it's easy to carry crops, or tools, or whatever, back and forth to the rice fields. That's why people like it so much-- it brings them directly to their rice fields safely and easily."

The trains are constructed from bamboo and are built with tiny electric engines which allow the vehicles to reach top speeds of about 40 kilometres (25 miles) per hour. The villagers use any wood they can find including warped and broken rails which can make for a bumpy ride but that does not seem to worry the locals who are accustomed to travelling on the bamboo trains in large groups. Rice farmer, Teng Kann, says he regularly uses the train.

Teng Kann: "I take the train because it's cheaper than using the motobike for my business. Also, the noris comes and goes at night time, and when people get sick, they can go to hospital for less- if you hire a car it will cost you a lot more."

The low fares apply not only to local villagers but to young foreign tourists travelling on a budget. Matteo Keffer from Italy says it is "incredible to see how the (villagers) utilise the old (French) colonial infrastructure."

Matteo Keffer, Italian Tourist: "It's incredible to see how they utilize the old colonial infrastructure for their benefit and the farmers around here are really friendly. Battambang itself was a pleasant surprise."

Federica Fruhwirth, Italian Tourist: "Now let's hope we get home in one piece."

The official railways survived decades of civil war and sabotage by the Khmer Rouge but years without maintenance have taken their toll and the service is not without quirks. There is only one track - so if two trains meet, the train transporting the lightest load has to be taken off the rails. Yet the simple design of the vehicles means the trains can be easily dismantled. So for now local people say they will continue to rely on the bamboo railway even though Cambodia's rail authorities plan to rebuild the country's entire rail network by 2011.

Battambang's bamboo train world's most eco-friendly ride

29-Jul-07
Liz Price
The Brunei Times

KUALA LUMPUR
WHEN I was asked if I wanted to ride on the bamboo train, I had no idea what was on offer. The picture that came to mind was of a cute toy train with carriages made out of bamboo, maybe similar to something you would find at a park or zoo to take tourists for a ride. But I knew there were no such parks in Cambodia.

I was in Battambang province in northwest Cambodia. I had spent the day visiting the killing caves of the Pol Pot regime. From my hotel in Battambang, I had hired a motorbike and driver for the day. This cost a mere US$6 ($9) for a 7 hour trip. It was towards the end of the day when the driver asked if I wanted to ride on the bamboo train.

We crossed a river on a narrow suspension bridge. I didn't realise until later that this was the upstream part of the Stung Sangker or Sangker River, which flows through the centre of Battambang. Soon after we came to a railway line.

When I was told this was the bamboo railway, I could see no sign of any train, and there were definitely no cute bamboo carriages. I got off the bike and walked in the rain to the station. There were quite a few people bustling around and lots of goods waiting to be transported somewhere. I wondered how long we would have to wait for the train to arrive. I knew that the train service in Cambodia is fairly primitive and is incredibly slow. Train travel is exceedingly cheap, but patience is required. Trains travel at an average speed of 20kph and mechanical problems can mean unscheduled stops.

We were on the main railway line from Phnom Penh to Poipet which is the border town to Thailand. The French built this single-track metre-gauge line in the 1920's. They used it to carry coffee and bananas to the city. The first tiny steam engines were replaced by more powerful steam locomotives. But during the Khmer Rouge regime the trains were destroyed. The tracks were spared but were overgrown by the jungle. It was only after the civil war that the locals cleared the rails and the line was back in operation again. The 274km journey from Battambang to Phnom Penh takes around 15 hours if there are no problems. The train runs up one day and down the next day and I wondered if today was the up or down day. Whilst I was still contemplating the speed of the train, the penny suddenly dropped. I realised that all this while I had been looking at the bamboo train without recognising it.

Instead of a train with carriages, the Battambang bamboo train is in fact a metal frame with bamboo slats that sits on two axles with wheels. It is used to transport people and goods up and down the railway. The bamboo slats form the base on which the passengers, goods and livestock sit. It can carry anything that will fit on it, even motorcycles. It is also used to transport the rice in the harvest season. The Cambodian name for the train is norry. It is an ingenious invention. After the days of the Khmer Rouge, the land mines were cleared from the tracks, and the local residents built dozens of these miniature trains.

It was interesting to watch the assembly of the contraption. Two young men appeared, carrying two ancient steel axles with cast-iron wheels at both ends. These were placed on the track - a perfect fit. Next, a metal frame with the bamboo slats is positioned atop the axles. The whole thing is about three feet wide and maybe eight feet long. The engine sits on top, linked to the wheels by a rubber drive wheel. The only braking system is to turn the engine off and coast to a stop.

The older trains don't have the metal frame. Instead there is a long semi-rigid bamboo mat. The axles fit into two steel forks on the underside of the mat. The mat sits atop the wheels, unsecured except by the steel forks.

Today the train is driven by a motorcycle or tractor engine. Gasoline is available at village crossings, sold in glass whiskey bottles. In the past men used poles to push it along, a bit like a dry land version of a punt on the River Thames! It runs about 10 km up and down the line, and costs 1000 riel ($0.40) between stations. As the regular train only goes up one day and down the next, there is no danger of collision. However if two bamboo trains meet, the lighter one is simply taken off the rails to allow the other to pass.

I was lucky as one train was being loaded when we arrived. Not long after we had been there, my driver told me to watch as the train was leaving. Before I really grasped what was happening, people jumped aboard and a few men started pushing it whilst running along behind. I found it quite comical as the train disappeared into the distance and the men were still running along pushing it. Obviously the engine hadn't kicked in. I don't know if they were just saving on fuel costs or if there was some problem with the engine. It reminded me of something from a silent Charlie Chaplin movie.

The old station building of French construction would have been quite elegant in its day. Nowadays it is used as a store for the train parts. The rain got heavier but I didn't mind as I had seen the Battambang bamboo train.