Reservoir Day by Sophia Buranakul  

During the year and a half I spent in Buriram province, Dan Grzminsky, a professional photographer, visited with my house-mate Catherine Chalk and me. One afternoon, we were discussing places where Dan could spend some time photographing. I had friends in Prakhonchai district in Buriram, and particularly enjoyed the trip between the main town (Muang District) of Buriram down to Prakhonchai, because the road passed down across a reservoir.

The flatness of the wetland landscape, and its peace, with children playing in boats, men laying out fishing lines and throwing nets, appealed to me. It seemed the road rushed through this timeless place, but did not touch the pace of the wetland lives.

The following day, Dan and I visited the reservoir, spending most of the afternoon wandering and talking to the children, fishermen, boys on bikes, and anyone else that was passing, and curious why there were two tall foreigners with cameras in this place.

Three girls were particularly friendly and fun to photograph and talk with. When we arrived they were splashing about in a small boat, diving up and under the boat, bailing out the water, and trying to swamp each other. All three were in the latter years of their primary school education (aged between 10 and 12). Patcharee, the eldest of the three, was outgoing and playful. As she stood tall on the boat she cried out "Look at me, just like a model, I'm going to be famous, they're going to put me in newspapers all over the world", and then collapsed giggling into the boat. 

Patcharee wasn't thinking of going on to secondary school (not compulsory at the time I met her). Her father was working in Bangkok as a Tuk Tuk driver, and she didn't think he would have enough money to send her on for more schooling. She was envious of the jeans Dan and I wore. She had asked her father for a pair when he came back for a visit, but was pretty sure she wouldn't get any jeans - too expensive.

We chatted and photographed Patcharee and her friends for over an hour. Towards the end of the afternoon, they were still playing in the water, but the sun was lower in the sky and they shivered every time a breeze blew.

Although the reservoir is on a fairly major road, there was no great stream of traffic. A truck passed by, looking seriously overloaded, with its roof passengers protecting themselves from the wind and sun. A couple of young teenage boys passed by us on a bike, and then, a few minutes later, returned to see us again. An old man cycled by, wearing the traditional farmer's shirt in faded indigo. Another man walked past carrying a bucket of fish which he had caught that day. His feet were bare, and he walked on the grass and dirt verge beside the asphalt. 

Some young hunters came with long guns, and then surprised us by showing that these "guns" were designed for harpooning the larger fish in the reservoir. Dan tried out the sights on one, but couldn't imagine he would ever catch anything. The reservoir is a no-hunting zone for waterfowl, of which there are many, but fish are fair game it seems.

It seemed the road rushed by this timeless place, but did not touch the pace of the wetland lives.

Three girls were particularly friendly and fun to photograph and talk with.

Walking home with the day's catch.

"Shooting" fish

Posing for the photographers