World Wildlife Fund

Day Four: Kratie -- Mekong River Dolphins
The town of Kratie feels like a collection of large abandoned government buildings. Other than the main highway that runs parallel to the town, there are very few people in the streets. We walk to the port and along the river before heading to the Mekong River Dolphin project office. There, we meet the staff and Richard Zanre, the project manager, to get an update on the project.

This is not a good year for the Irrawaddy dolphins in the Mekong. A fifth of the remaining populations of the Mekong dolphins have died, most of them newborn calves. Richard says that 14 dolphins died within two months earlier in the year. Usually, the adult deaths are caused by the illegal use of gillnets, dynamite and electric fishing by local fishermen. However, it is unclear why the calves are dying. Only 80 or so dolphins remain in the river, and they are all found only in one stretch of the river between Kratie and the Cambodia-Laos border. We can't afford to have the population decline each year by 20 percent; they will soon be extinct.

Tissue samples from the dead calves were recently sent to Canada to identify potential causes for their deaths. We go over possibilities, including industrial sources for pollutants such as gold mining upstream, much of which is illegal and poorly managed, and mono-crop farming which requires a lot of pesticide use and produces runoff downstream. There is also a possibility that the deaths are caused by dioxins left over from the Agent Orange dropped during and after the Vietnam War. The wars in the Mekong region have a lot to answer for.

We decide to break for the day. On my own for a while, I set out to buy a durian. Not just any durian, but a-firm-yet-on-the-verge-of-spongy, durian. What is a durian? It is a rancid, stinky, malodorous fruit banned from all the classy hotels in Southeast Asia usually with a "No Spitting. No Dogs. No Durians." sign. Pooh, I say! Live large. This fruit has personality, it is full bodied. (Well, in an old-school opera singer sort of way.)

Before meeting the rest of my group for dinner, I head to the nearby stalls and hand-sign with the owner until we are both satisfied. This requires some shocked expressions on my part and the gradual handing over of more and more money until he takes the amount he's satisfied with. This exchange is book-ended with two spoken words on my part, "Soxabai" (hello) and an "Oghun" (thank you). Because I'm in a hurry to meet my team, I grab the nearest one and head back to the restaurant. Within five minutes of getting myself settled, one half of the table has taken to wrinkling their noses. I am forced admit that there is a durian under my chair and have to banish it to the street. Afterwards, we step out to find it still there. No takers- no matter. It tastes wonderful.