Cambodia & Adventure: Wai father and son, insect hunters

The journey takes just under an hour to reach the Wai family, whose unusual profession is insect hunting.

The Wai, insect hunters from father to son

A site that Malraux loved

An opportunity to take in the superb scenery on this fine morning, when a radiant sun illuminates the palette of intense greens in the countryside, with the Kulen range as a backdrop.

By the side of the road, craftsmen are busy weaving wicker or making palm sugar in front of steaming cauldrons, hoping to attract a few tourists on their way to the nearby temple of Banteay Srei.

Shortly before arriving at the site, a small dirt track branches off and leads after a few meters to the destination. Mr. Wai and his wife, all smiles, stand in front of their typical house made of wood and palm leaves resting on stilts. The insect hunt can begin.

Exotic

Mr. Wai, 55, didn't really choose this profession. But a serious stomach wound he suffered as a soldier prevented him from working in the nearby rice fields.

Initially carried out to feed his family of six children, insect hunting gradually became his main source of income.

All the more so as the consumption of these little creatures remains highly prized by the local population, and is increasingly attracting the curiosity of tourists looking for a bite of the exotic.

Assisted by his son Khun, aged 12, Mr. Wai, armed with a simple spade, scours the clearings around his home every day. His eyes, hardened by years of practice, are able to detect every crevice of the ground, spotting the nests of tarantulas and scorpions. These two species are his main prey, along with snakes and rice crabs when the chance arises.

Methods

The procedure is simple: as soon as a cavity is spotted, Mr. Wai takes a few spades to widen it before plunging a simple twig into it. Titillated in this way, the burrow's occupant eventually shows himself, and it's then that the hunter seizes him with his bare hands, no gloves, using a sacred tattoo drawn on his chest as his only protection.

Although not lethal, the risk is real, as the venom can cause severe pain and swelling lasting several days. Numerous marks on his hands and forearms bear witness to a few incidents along the way.

Once collected, the beast is immediately rendered harmless: spider venom hooks are pulled out, while scorpion stings are removed, again with the help of the spade, which is proving to be very useful.

The loot then lands in Khun's wicker basket, where he plays an active role in locating the burrows. On a good day, the basket is filled with around twenty tarantulas and as many scorpions.

Recipe

While scorpions can be hunted at any time of year, the same cannot be said for spiders, which are scarcer between December and early February. The bulk of the collection will end up on the stalls of the local market or in a Siem Reap restaurant, while a small portion will be eaten with the family, prepared according to a very simple recipe from Mrs. Wai: chicken stock cube, garlic and palm sugar will join the insects in a frying bath.

Far from the hustle and bustle of Skuon, a mecca for arachnid eaters visited by hundreds of tourists every day, the inhabitants of this little corner of the Cambodian countryside are perpetuating an ancestral tradition, insects having been part of Khmer gastronomy and pharmacopoeia since time immemorial.