PHNOM PENH, Cambodia _ "Life is not staying still," Vuthy spoke softly to me, like a kind older brother. "It is moving from one place to the next."
I followed his rhythmic breathing _ in, out _ inhaling the lotus air and untangling my own breath from the outside breeze, flowing in through the open temple doors.
"When we let something go, that is the ultimate peace," Vuthy continued, his eyes half-closed in concentration. Like the monks around us, his head was shaved, but he was dressed in khaki _ my guide on the river. He'd been a monk before; his instruction was real. Our morning meditation was a spontaneous detour from the rote tourist path in Oudong, a golden complex of pointed temples and the former capital of the Kingdom of Cambodia.
All of the monuments and fanfare, the behemoth statues, the many thousands of golden Buddhas sitting silently in unseen rooms _ all of it pointed to these moments of serenity. My monk-turned-guide did not want to merely show me the sights; he wanted me to understand them.
Barefoot, we climbed the 400 stone steps to the highest white marble stupa encasing the Buddha's relics. Bold statues of the mythical three-headed elephant Erawan guard the shrine, and from this highest point, I could see miles across the flat squares of green to the shimmering complexity of the Mekong, an unwinding bundle of twisted rivers.
Our moment of peace ended with a band of long-tailed macaques invading the shrine, snatching up all the holy offerings and shoving the food into their pouty pink mouths. The Buddhist pilgrims only laughed while the smallest baby monkeys licked the sticky rice off their tiny fingers before dashing home into the forest.
We made our way back to the ship, chatting with market vendors along the way, sipping sugarcane and munching palm fruit _ Vuthy stepped in to interpret and indulge all my curiosity. He insisted that I touch, taste and smell everything. He wanted me to travel mindfully.
Most people hear "cruise" and think of some high-rise ship crammed with thousands of passengers that drifts away from Florida for a week of bad buffets and forgettable ports lined with T-shirt shops. My Mekong cruise was the total opposite _ unrushed, calm and authentic _ an active and intimate discovery of the land, people, nature and culture of Cambodia. Smaller numbers, a flexible itinerary and the right ship make all the difference.
Low and lean, the Aqua Mekong _ one of two ships belonging to Aqua Expeditions, a cruise line launched a decade ago on the Amazon River _ was custom-built for this specific waterway in Southeast Asia. The vessel features just 20 cabins, each with floor-to-ceiling glass walls that reveal every second of scenery you pass.
Every morning on my balcony, sipping my sunrise espresso, I watched the river wake up. Fishermen cast their nets like fireworks, chasing the silver fish that disappeared like sparks beneath the ripples. Little kids rubbed their eyes in their houseboat hammocks, and like a rush-hour highway, the river grew busy with boats, whining and whirring motors ferrying people and animals up and down the mighty Mekong.
