Action on the Kwai

The motion picture “The Bridge on the River Kwai” had more of a jungle setting than the real bridge.

I made the trip in an elongated canoe to reach a mango plantation owned by the family of a student our family sponsored at the University of Washington. His name was Khien, and he became a real member of our family. He was loved by everyone. Khien already had his bachelor’s and master’s degrees and his law degree. He was at the UW to get his doctorate. He had already written several books. His specialty — Communist China.

Khien had a cubbyhole space in one of the dorms there. He was on furlough from Chulalonghorn University in Bangkok.

He was just an unassuming intellectual and when he went somewhere all he needed was a change of clothes and a rice cooker. He was frugal.

When he learned that I was going to Thailand, he said he would write and have his nephew show me around.

Khien’s family were brokers for fruit and vegetables grown near where the family lived, about 100 miles north of Bangkok. I got to meet his mother and several members of the family.

One of the places the nephew wanted to take me to was to a mango plantation owned by the family that was along the River Kwai.

There were places on the river that were shallow so the boat motor had a long shaft so the propeller barely skimmed the water.

We ran across elephants working small logs into the river and snakes skimming the water. The mango plantation was probably 20 miles or so from where we launched. It caught my interest because I had never seen a mango before. Later in my visit I got to taste a mango. The taste wasn’t to my liking, and I thought the fruit was a bit stringy.

Later we come across a banana plantation, and I had them stop the boat so I could wander among the growing bananas.

Some guy, a guard I think, had other ideas and chased us out.

The river setting had little resemblance to the movie setting, but the movie presented a great story. We did get to the bridge, and I got a piece of the piling.

Khien had arranged for me to visit one of the classes he taught there at the university. I had followed Khien’s travels after he returned home, and he had visited as a lecturer all over the world. Time marches on, and I am sorry to say that I haven’t heard from him in recent years.