-A Hopeless Quest -

Since Ravuth’s unnerving encounter with Sok in Cambodia, his mundane life had not altered a great deal over the years. He took a job in Grantham as a kitchen assistant in a local Thai restaurant. The employment came with accommodation, but little pay. He spent the remaining money that Father Eggleton had left him on a laptop and printer, spending his free time in his room on the internet researching. He worked most days and nights at the restaurant, cleaning and assisting the Thai cooks. The restaurant, owned by an Englishman called Colin, and his Thai wife, Noy, had built up a lucrative business in Grantham Centre. Ravuth, along with several of the Thai staff lived above the restaurant and he again became fluent in the Thai language. He had saved most of the money he earned and had made the journey to Cambodia several more times.

Ravuth went to Phnom Penh with trepidation in 2005. He spent a fortnight revisiting the government offices, again going over irrelevant information. He remained in Phnom Penh throughout his stay, but apart from making a few contacts, he felt he was wasting his time. However, he continued his pilgrimage, still hopeful that something would turn up.

Knowing that new that two of the four road bridges that crossed the rivers on the road to Koh Kong were finished Ravuth went to Cambodia again in 2007. Hiring a 250cc trail bike, he ventured over the bridges to see if any area appeared familiar to him. Although realising that the two finished road bridges were still a long way off where he needed to be, he gained experience in charting, mapping, and incorporating GPS coordinates. He would select, and grid off, an area to search, then survey around the specific location and take photographs, marking off the charts and satellite images. Driving back hot tired, and sticky to Phnom Penh early evening, he ate and spent time in internet cafes. He studied information and photographs from that day’s search, before returning to the hotel where he planned and marked out his grid location for the following day’s exploration.

This was his routine throughout his visits, although he always felt disappointed with the outcome. He knew that until they had completed bridging the remaining two river crossings, he was wasting his time. Ravuth felt a little happier knowing that the final bridge was closer to where the track leading to his village might be. He also knew it was still several kilometres away from Koh Kong town and Sok.

Ravuth scanned, enhanced, and enlarged the fading colour Polaroid’s of his family and carried a pile of these clearer images with him to distribute around Phnom Penh, but with little success. A few Khmers tried to con him, but he soon wised up.

Several years later, Ravuth’s life took a turn for the better in England and Cambodia. Colin, the owner of the Thai restaurant, expanded his business and converted the staff living quarters into more restaurant space. He owned several properties in the Grantham area and accommodated Ravuth in a self-contained, furnished flat on the bottom floor of a large 2-storey house. This was ideal for Ravuth, who had been planning ways to subsidise his income. With a kitchen to use for a new venture, he learned from the internet how to make birthday and wedding cakes. Colin encouraged Ravuth to undertake the project in his spare time and wanted to be involved. Colin and Noy paid for ingredients and managed the sales and marketing alongside the restaurant and they intended to share any profit.

Ravuth was enthusiastic and after several failed attempts to follow a recipe, he made his first order, a Victoria sponge birthday cake.

The customers, delighted with both the look and taste of the cake, recommended Ravuth to their friends.

Thrilled, Ravuth and Colin knew this would bring in more orders and Ravuth felt happy with this extra income, which he saved towards his Cambodia visits.

Ravuth was at home one evening feeling bored. Normally, he would bake cakes, read, or work at his computer. That night he had no orders to fill and couldn’t be bothered with his computer or reading. He glanced around his living room and the old banana leaf box he’d put on a shelf caught his eye. “You look as raggedy as me, but you’ve lasted a long time my old friend,” he said. Ravuth hadn’t opened the box for several years. The last time was when he scanned his family photographs into his computer and enhanced them in Photoshop.

Still chuckling, he took the box off the shelf and opened it.

“It still has a nice sweet smell,” he thought, taking out the shrivelled seedpod that now looked like a small dollop of dog poop

“After all these years you still smell good,” said Ravuth smiling. Scraping a shaving off the pod, he tasted it, rolling it around his mouth with his tongue, ‘Wow!’ he thought, as the flavour exploded onto his taste buds. ‘That tastes good,’ he thought, swallowing the morsel and smiling as memories of his family came flooding back. Several seconds later, craving more, he scraped off another small shaving and ate that.

Ravuth could not describe the flavour. It was something that he had never come across before.

‘I wonder.’ he thought. He took the seedpod into the kitchen and using a heavy stone pestle and mortar, and ground the pod until it turned to powder. He took a small fraction of the pepper colour powder on his fingertip and licked it. “That tastes amazing,” he said aloud. He looked at the mortar containing the powder and wanted to test it further. He made a quick and simple cake mix, added a sprinkle of the powder to the ingredients, and then placed the mix into the oven. While that baked, he searched and found an old glass apothecary bottle, left by the previous tenant. He scraped the powder into the bottle and put in the glass stopper. He smiled. ‘I feel like a mad scientist,’ he thought. ‘It might make the cake taste like crap. I bet I end up with the shits and have to throw it away,’ He sighed, ‘ but at least it would pass away a few boring hours.’

Ravuth removed the plain sponge from the oven, waited for it to cool, and took a bite. Several seconds later, he took another bite. He ate the full cake and made another. Ravuth couldn’t believe how marvellous the cake tasted with only a tiny amount of the spice added.

He ate half of the next cake before going to bed. His mind spun with a nagging doubt that the spice could be harmful. He regretted eating so much and hoped that he would be okay in the morning.

Ravuth woke up full of vigour and ready to take on the day. He finished the last piece of cake with his morning cup of tea.

Arriving home earlier than usual because Colin had taken a rush order for a three-tier wedding cake, Ravuth came home early after Colin gave him only two days, which he knew was little time to make a wedding cake. While preparing the fruitcake’s base ingredients, he wondered. ‘I have had no ill effects and I feel great.’ He paused and looked at the bottle of spice powder. He tapped a tiny amount from the bottle onto his hand, sprinkled it into the cake mix, and when he’d finished baking and decorating the cake, delivered it to the customer.

The decoration looked okay, but not perfect, as Ravuth had rushed to make it. He explained to Colin, who was angry, thinking the customer would complain.

Several days later, a man walked into the restaurant. Colin rushed into the kitchen looking flustered. He glared at Ravuth and said, “That’s the bride’s father, he must be here to complain. Where can I hide?”

One of the Thai waitresses then came in as Colin was looking for a place to hide. She said something to Colin, who glared at Ravuth and said. “Damn, he saw me rushing in here,” he sighed, “I suppose I better face a bollocking.” He pointed at Ravuth and said, “The refund will come out of your pay.”

Ravuth, feeling ashamed, saw Colin and the father talking as he watched them through the restaurants serving hatch, and thought he saw money handed over. He closed the hatch, sighed, and carried on scrubbing the sink.

Colin looked stunned as he came into the kitchen and went over to Ravuth.

“Sorry Colin. I will pay fo…”

“They loved it.” interrupted Colin and stammering added, “He said it was wonderful and the best cake anyone had ever tasted.” Colin held up cash and said, “The bride’s father couldn’t praise me enough, and he would highly recommend us. Look! he’s paid for a chocolate cake and said it would be a regular order.”

Ravuth smirked, knowing why the cake tasted so good.

The business grew and orders came in daily. Colin bought Ravuth a small Ford van to deliver cakes and stopped him working at the restaurant to concentrate on the cake business.

Ravuth now knew that he must not only find his family and village but also find, bring back more of the plants, and make more spice. He knew what money he had, would not last long, but felt certain that if he found his village, he would remember the place where he and Oun discovered the plant.

Ravuth became a skilled baker and not only managed the orders coming in, but made extra for Colin to sell at the restaurants. With the business growing and with his extra income, Ravuth was given time off after the New Year’s rush, when things were quieter.

While people in England wrapped up warm against the bitter January frost, Ravuth arrived in the sweltering heat of Cambodia. He felt excited knowing that the final bridges that linked Phnom Penh to Koh Kong were complete, which meant he could now expand his search. He had waited years for this development. Ravuth stayed at his usual hotel, The Angkor International, the cheap accommodations he’d stayed before in Phnom Penh. The moto-dops and tuk-tuks that hung around outside the hotel cheerfully greeted him and he had realised long ago that Sok was a one-off twat and nothing like the gentle, humble, happy Cambodian people that Ravuth had come to know. He hired a Honda Raid trail bike and spent the first evening in his room, checking his equipment for the following day. Ravuth had maps, plans, satellite images, a Nikon D-60 digital camera, an Asus Netbook and a new Garmin GPS-60 and after putting the electrical equipment on charge had an early night.

He headed off early on the motorbike for the four-hour drive and stopped before the fourth bridge. Looking at the new concrete structure before sliding down the embankment of the river, he looked across to the other side, where small stilted shacks lined the banks of the calm river. He smiled and stumbled back up the embankment, got on the motorbike, and crossed the bridge.

Arriving on the other side of the bridge, he drove a little further, turned off the main road, and headed to the start of sections of the jungle that he could not reach before. Ravuth smiled, whether it was the google images or his memory, but areas in the distance looked familiar. He drove on further, planning to survey areas along the front of the jungle and work his way back. He felt certain that he would find the trail leading to his village. He skirted the outskirts of the jungle to see if he could recognise anything else familiar or what he had seen on Google maps stirred any memories. After photographing sections from that area, he moved and repeated the process.

After spending every day doing this routine and realising that with only a few days remaining, he had come up with nothing. Although feeling sure he was in the correct area, he again became despondent. He knew this undertaking would be difficult as the area he needed to cover was immense.

One morning as he started a new grid search, he saw a dried-up rice paddy a short distance away from the start of the jungle. ‘That area looks familiar,’ he thought and drew a line in the air from the rice paddy to the jungle and looked. Getting his bearings, he walked to the edge of the jungle and saw a small clearing. ‘I recognise this. Yes… it’s around here,’ he thought and as memories resurfaced, he grinned and went into the jungle.

Later that afternoon, Ravuth drove back to Phnom Penh. Although not finding the trail, he felt confident that he’d found the right area and realised that unless people still used the trail it would have grown over.

Spending his last few days surveying and searching several kilometres into the jungle and although finding no evidence to suggest the track or his village, the more he explored, the more familiar the area became.

Ravuth felt disheartened when he flew back to England a few days later. Although confident that he would find his village next time. However, realising the trail may have grown over suggested only one thing… no one returned.

Ravuth resumed baking and over the following months considered what to do. ‘I have come too far to give up now and I know next time I will find my village,’ he thought and sighed.

With England now basking in the summer months, Ravuth went back to Cambodia again and felt excited.

He searched around the same area as before and spent days trudging about and getting himself and the bike stuck in wet muddy quagmires. Cambodia was now in the monsoon season and with the constant downpours, the country roads and open fields that were dry tracks for most of the year were now potholed sloppy mud pools and torrential rain sheeted down. With zero visibility and driving painful, Ravuth continued.

One afternoon, Ravuth, again drenched and miserable, returned to the hotel. He decided not to search the following day and spend it resting in Phnom Penh.

. That evening, while in the hotel reception, he noticed a wooden board with business cards, leaflets, and brochures. He went over and a small card caught his attention, ‘That’s interesting,’ he thought, called the number on the card, and made an appointment for the next morning.