I was horrified. We’d arrived at Mr Ny’s farm to find him “making rice”. As the owner of a de-husking machine, he provides rice for the whole village. Working from 5am, his day doesn’t really start until he’s treated whatever bags have been delivered for that day. “Health and safety” would have had a field day: dirty bags, wicker baskets, unwashed hands… even one of the family dogs got in on the act. But Cambodia have bigger fish to fry (y’know, minor things like poor human rights and extensive, deep-rooted political corruption) before stuff like comes to the top of the agenda. And they all seemed fine to me…
I was keen to get going as I knew I’d have to walk slowly, but I couldn’t really pull him away from his rice-making so we eventually left at 0945. We = me, Mr Ny and his two dogs, Nanggap (female, 18 months, just had puppies,tended to stay close, protective, very obedient):
… and Perk (male, 3 years, a wanderer, disappeared for long periods, but always returned when called, handsome, also very obedient):
Mr Ny fashioned me a walking pole out of some bamboo – it saved me a fall more than once that day:
“An animal!”. Mr My stopped and watched. “A monkey.” Cool – I strained to try to see it. Then he picked up a stone and hurled it in the monkey’s direction. At first I thought it was to get it to move so I could see it… but then he set his dogs on it. I was horrified.
You could hear the squeals – long, anguished, painful… and then nothing.
“They kill the monkey?”
“Yes, they kill it, ” he said still looking at the forest. Then he turned and saw my face. Someone with zero EQ could have read my face.
“They no kill monkey. It ran up tree.”
Sounded like they bl**dy well killed the monkey to me, I thought. And he could give me no reason why. Maybe it was a language thing, but I strongly suspected it was because there wasn’t one. He looked sheepish.
Happily, things improved after that and we trekked steadily:
Lunch stop:
Dragon fruit:
He worked out that I was a slow walker and we took shortcuts, the last one straight up the river to the waterfall we’d been aiming for. I’d given up taking my shoes/socks off at each river crossing – they dried between soaks anyway. Just wish the rep had warned me.
The waterfall was tiny but pretty – a nominal place to head for a day trip (we were just in the forest – it’d have taken days to get to the national park and back):
And I was determined to swim after all that walking:
He’d told me the route back was 3 hours. Nothing shorter? No. But there was. People dream of going “off the beaten track” (not understanding that, unless you go to the earth’s extremes, there isn’t such a thing). By necessity and circumstance, we went off the normal track, his machete sometimes clearing the way, sometimes back-tracking.
We stopped for a rest at a hut about 30 mins from civilisation:
Then I witnessed something I am honoured to have seen: he invited me into the hut and, on a bamboo mezzanine level, the old man (who had a connection with Buddha – I can’t remember what they call it), performed a good-luck ceremony for the woman who was sick. A visit to the doctor hadn’t healed her, so they were trying alternatives. It involved two cows made out of folded leaves and toothpicks, each with a candle and a separate candle with a substance around the base. He squatted (amazing mobility – his butt was brushing the floor), spoke very, very fast and proceeded to melt something over the candle and wave it near the woman, then sprinkle the substance over each of the cows. He didn’t stop for at least 2 or 3 minutes. Whilst I don’t think the procedure itself has much scientific merit, the placebo effect is well-documented. I hope she gets better 🙂
Arrived back at Village 5 (a logical but somewhat uninspired name) two hours later.
And now the bit you’ve been waiting for – the wildlife review. It started well with my shoe this morning – must have come back with me last night:
Giant ants:
Pigs also featured:
And interesting flora and fauna:
I don’t much enjoy walking at the moment, but was determined not to miss this one. A good day 🙂
Two pairs of flip-flops *and* sandals?! Really? I’d taken the van from Siem Reap and had reached the transfer town of Stung Treng. You’ve got to pass through it to get to anywhere: over the Laos border to 4,000 Islands (inaccurately named) and Dom Det; down to Kratie and; east to Rattanakiri province. ST was a functional town. Yes, let’s call it a functional town. Quite big, very dusty and apart from the two “places of worship” the nearest thing worth seeing, according to my app, was 44km away. We’d stopped for lunch. Everyone’s packs were twice the size of mine and I was intrigued as to what they’d brought that I hadn’t. “Is that all your stuff?” she asked, pointing to my pack.”Yep, and I think I’ve got everything I need.” But I was intrigued as to what they’d brought that I hadn’t. Some answers: ten tops (I brought 2, making 12 items of clothing in total) makeup, an extensive range of toiletries, a snorkelling mask (I’m not making this up), plus the two pairs of flip-flops and one pair of sandals. Wow.
Whatever time you arrived, you’d be waiting one hour. Alarm bells started ringing when I asked about Banlung and a minor panic ensued. The van service is ad hoc: it seems that each day they see what tickets they’ve sold and run buses to cater. Booking to Stung Treng and “winging it from there” wasn’t part of the system. But it was, because they just fudged it. Bundled off the third van about 3 minutes after I’d got on, I was told “Bus to Banlung, this one, from here, 5 minutes”. From recent previous experience, I didn’t believe them. And it was just me. “By myself?!” I asked, horrified. “Yes,” said a toothy grin. Oh no, this wasn’t part of the deal – I’m not doing a two-hour trip by myself. But all four just smiled enthusiastically and nodded. And I realised I didn’t have much choice. Staying here wasn’t much safer. I needn’t have worried: the van (not the one they’d pointed to) arrived five minutes later and, already full to the brim, I was bundled on.
The terrain changed as we got higher:
But the houses were the same:
My first moto trip was to my hotel: $1, helmet not included. I can report that the back of a moto is more stable than it looks.
Hotel’s ok. Sunset was impressive:
Only one person at the hotel speaks (a little) English. Hate being in a country and not at least being able to get by. Booked a one-day trek in the forest tomorrow and a waterfall tour for Thursday. I declined the elephant ride: they’re bred in captivity and live in “less than ideal” conditions. I appreciate the locals need to make a living, but I fundamentally disagree with using a wild animal as entertainment.
And talking about wild animals, I had a visitor in my room:
Travelling’s one of life’s contradictions: how doing so little can be so tiring?
English really is the universal language, and I’m so lucky that it’s my native tongue, because it means I don’t have to learn it. The two most popular subjects at the monks’ school behind the first Rolous temple were English and computing: they’re seen as a route out of Cambodia and poverty. And I can now see why my previous attempts to at least try the local language wherever I’ve been have been met with surprised looks. Especially as I’m a Brit. Yet, I feel uncomfortable not being able to get by here – will brush up on a few phrases before I hit Vietnam.
Greeting
Bowing slightly with your hands in a prayer position is a lovely greeting, non-aggressive and friendly. And no physical contact, so it feels more comfortable than a handshake when meeting new people. I still like a hug from a friend, though 🙂
Clothes washing
Yes, yes, but it’s important when you’re on the road with two tops and only three spare pairs of pants. The trick is to wash everything in the shower when you get in from the day and hang it up – most of it is dry by morning. It’s really important to look after it. The Dr Bronners rather impressively removed a yellow curry stain, but I’m already running low so I’ve resorted to hotel soap for the day-to-day dirt.
Mosquitos
I hate mosquitos. I really hate mosquitos. They can smell sweet Scandi blood from three miles away. In Florida they were big, loud and heavy – “mosquito bite? It was more like giving a Red Cross blood donation” – but at least you could hear them and feel them land so you had a fighting chance (I once heard that if you wait til they start feeding and then tense the muscle, it forces blood into them and they explode, but instinct took over and I always swatted them before I could try). Here they have stealth mosquitos – small, light and silent. Only upside is that they don’t seem to be able to bite through clothing. But no less irritating. I hate ’em, I really hate ’em.
Tuk-tuks and motos
Am now an expert passenger. Roads here are often dirt tracks and very bumpy. Sports bra required.
Road rules
Everything is subject to what you feel like doing
On a dual-carriageway and your destination is the other side? No problem – take a shortcut down the other carriageway
Horns are used to signal “I’m here!” and are rarely used aggressively
Faster vehicles beep before they overtake slower traffic
Crossroads don’t have conventions, let alone traffic lights: slow down as you approach, and slowly make your way across
Give way to traffic joining the road (because, most of the time, they’ll have assumed you’ll let them in anyway)
It sounds chaotic, but it works – because very few people have cars, and motos drive slower and are more agile. And the main roads are in pretty good nick (let’s save the non-main roads for another post so we can end on a positive note).
Fresh spring rolls, chicken Khmer amok and banana dessert.
Cooking class:
With Suri:
It was quick, fun and tasty. And most of the ingredients are available in the UK, so I’ll be practising when I get home.
I asked Suri if she enjoyed cooking.
“Yes, but I don’t like the washing up…”
“No, me neither.”
“… because, where I come from, we have to go and get the water.”
Ah, that was a reality-check, folks.
I’d planned a visit to some older, less popular temples this afternoon, but Peourk explained they were small (“maybe 15 minutes each”) and quite a distance. But there was a floating village I could see. I was indifferent, to be honest, but with the change of plan to get to Phnom Phen via the northeast, it meant I would get to see Cambodia’s main lake – Tonle Sap – which I’d otherwise miss. He assured me it wasn’t like the floating market I’d been avoiding (there’s only so much hassling a girl can take), and I trusted his judgement so off we went.
OMG, it’s a floating village. An entire village built in the water on stilts.
Nothing could have prepared me for it – I’ve never seen its like.
I sat in the bow and just drank it all in (metaphorically speaking – the water looked dirty). Kids and adults alike played in the water.
They fished, in person:
… and remotely.
We stopped at the “crocodile farm”. As expected it was a bit of a gimmick: Tonle Sap doesn’t have crocs, so a restaurant ships them in from Siem Reap, puts them on the menu and then offers you a seat for lunch once you’ve had a quick look in their cage:
An unusual way of life, totally removed from what I’ve experienced, and the inhabitants seemed genuinely happy and content. I then wondered if the huge amount of tourist dollars the tours bring in benefit the community…
A touristy, but unique experience. Thanks, Peourk 🙂
I jumped down from the boat and tried to find him. Tuk-tuk drivers congregated in the various cafes. They all turned to look. And then I realised that they were all checking to see if I was “their tourist”. Looking after your tourist is not just a job, it’s a matter of pride… and someone had lost their tourist! It occurred to me that I was seriously outnumbered and yet at no point did I feel at risk: primarily because I believe most people are decent; also because we are their livelihood and taking an advantage of one will put their whole income stream at risk – it’s not worth it.
Slightly off the beaten track, we passed roadside communities on the way to the temples. Even away from the water, houses are on stilts. The underneath area seems to be the main living area with many sporting hammocks, sofas and sometimes even machinery. Because it’s cool down under 🙂
Before we left, the heavens opened and dropped another shipful of water on us. This is what a dry country looks like during wet season:
I was expecting these more remote temples to be quiet and less touristy, and was interested to see how these earlier ones (C9/10) differed from those I’d already seen (C12/13). When I arrived at the first one (Lolei), the party was already in full swing: it was a festival day and the whole village was out, complete with marquee (Thara would have approved!) and loudspeakers. Maybe not relaxing, but certainly authentic.
Many early temples are made with small bricks (strong) with sandstone for the carvings.
Behind the small Lolei temple complex was a “monastery” – it was clearly very active (no photos out of courtesy). Got talking to one of the English teachers: it’s a free school for anyone (men, women and children); lessons run 7am to 7pm in one-hour slots; they have two classrooms with wooden benches and a whiteboard, and a computer lab (it was actually very similar to one in England, but in a shabbier building) with second-hand PCs (at least 16, presumably donated); they also had an orphan and a widow there. Unsurprisingly, English and computing are the most popular subjects: it’s seen as a route out of Cambodia. As I expected, he gently asked for a donation at the end: I desperately wanted to contribute – clearly the best way to get the money to where it’s needed – but I don’t carry much cash (for obvious reasons) and the unexpected boat trip had wiped me out. I explained and apologised – he was gracious and understanding.
Preah Ko was my favourite of the three Rolous temples.
Wandering round, I knew what I was looking for and at: the design of the balustrades, the carvings above the doors, the shape of the pillars, the materials, the statues.
Then lightning and the loudest, longest thunder clap I’ve ever heard. Today’s storm was coming.
Arriving at Bakong, the largest temple of the three, just in time for sunset, the music blared loud. More festival celebrations. The sun was setting, but would the rain come first.
“No, you can’t go up [to the temple], we are closed”.
What?! Peourk had said it was open til six, and he would know. I strongly suspected the official knew the rain was coming and wanted to go home. Couldn’t blame him really, but I’d never be here again.
Back at the tuk-tuk, Peourk was having none of it. “You want to go? I will sort it.” He knew that I’d really wanted to see the temples. But it was now raining and dusk was settling in. We talked.
“Let’s go,” he said. And we went.
With nobody around to stop us, we climbed to the top. Deep black rain clouds, the last vestiges of sunshine, the party next door. Wow. (This picture just doesn’t do it justice).
I told you tuk-tuk drivers look after their tourists 🙂
A full day off: breakfast, reading, writing, admin, yoga, shower, massage, dinner, bed 🙂
Planned my next move: off to the less-travelled northeast for some nature. Jungle territory. And, more to the point, malaria. Cambodia is a high-risk malaria zone, with the exception of Siem Reap, PP and the bit in between. I took a malaria tablet. Nothing happened. I haven’t vomitted, got diarrhoea or died (admittedly this last one would be an unfortunate side-effect of any preventative medication).
I booked another massage – the first one wasn’t great, but I needed one after lots of walking and tuk-tuks (suspension is non-existent). “I give you another one for free,” offered Nang (the front office manager), “because you are nice.” I suspect she says this to everyone, but it was very much appreciated. She’s been great. “You tell me what you want to do and I will arrange,” she’d said.
“I’d like to go to the northeast: Stung Treng and Banlung.” She’d looked blank for a moment, and then, “I will find out and let you know – not many tourists go there.” Bingo! And she was as good as her word, booking me a van and accommodation in both Stung Treng and Banlung.
That evening she lowered her voice and whispered conspiratorially, “Sam, I need you to do something for me.” Oh goodness, I thought, here we go. “Will you write a review of Golden Temple Villa on TripAdvisor?”
Jeez, is that all you’re asking after all you’ve done for me?! “Of course,” I replied and she looked pleased. In fact, she really wanted to come with me, and I’d have welcomed her company, but she couldn’t get the time off (busy season). “If you need someone to translate,” she offered, “call me anytime.” What a gem! You know those people who you just click with? That connection that you can’t pinpoint but know it’s there? Well, it transcends nationality, race and background.
In today’s short pause, I’ll tell you my favourite Hindu story (summarised):
Hiranyakashipu’s (let’s call him Hira) parents were devoted to Brahma (the not-so-popular Hindu god) and Hira was feted to become very powerful. Brahma bestowed on him invunerability to three things: gods, humans and beasts. Brahma decreed that Hira could not be slain indoors or outdoors, during the day or night, on the ground or in the sky nor by any weapon, animate or inanimate.
Unsurprisingly, Hira started to get a bit full of himself – he considered himself a god in the flesh and forbade devotion to any other deity.
He had a son, Prahlada, who (for various reasons) became devoted to Vishnu. Hira wasn’t very happy about this and tried to kill his son (as you do). But he failed every time – his son was protected by Vishnu.
One day he pointed to a pillar and asked if Vishnu was in it. His son replied, “He is, he was and he will be”, thus refusing to recognise his father as the “supreme being”. Enraged, Hira smashed the pillar and out of the dust came Narasimha – the fourth avatar of Vishnu. And Narasimha killed Hira: he reincarnated as half-man, half-lion (neither god, man nor beast), he set upon him at twilight (neither day nor night), on the threshold of a courtyard (neither indoors nor outside), throwing him on his lap (neither on the ground nor in the air) and tore him apart with his claws (neither animate nor inanimate).
Ha – I like it when someone gets outsmarted (as long as it’s not me)!
And, with all the rock, I didn’t get chance to share the wildlife, so here it is. Let’s start with a gecko (or it might be a lizard – can’t tell) and the bat in one of the temple towers:
And then this amazing spider in Banteay Srei:
And, I know this is cheating, but couldn’t resist including this fella:
Sunrise at Angkor Wat. Speaking to others at sunset the other day had set my expectations – “mweh” was how one Australian put it. When events are hyped too much, we expect more and there’s more chance you’ll feel disappointed (c.f. New Year parties). But I actually enjoyed it. This was actually one of my favourite shots because if you look carefully, you can see the monkey sat on the scaffolding!
It was just me, him… and about a thousand other people:
Despite this, it managed to be quite something. Angkor Wat really is spectacular.
And then it was off on the Grand Tour. My hotel had booked me a different driver (the one on Thursday was lovely, but very slow so it would have taken much longer to do the Grand Tour with him) and guide (again, whilst my last one was very knowledgeable, I had to really concentrate to understand his English, and so it was very tiring). Poeurk (pronounced like the “per” in “Rupert”, very clipped) and Thara (pronounced like “Tara”, but starting with the tongue on the roof of your mouth) looked after me well. For example, we went the opposite way to most tourists, so many of the temples were even quieter than usual and it wasn’t too hot to climb all the steps of the last one!
First, though, we passed through Angkor Thom. And some more information:
Its main temple, the Bayon, had three purposes:
state temple
reunification of Buddhism and Hinduism
minature of the Khmer empire (with the 54 towers representing the 54 provinces at the time)
Temples represent mountains – the home of the gods – and are usually either:
state: built by the king (who considered himself a “god king”) to please the gods (so he would become a fully-fledged god upon his death) or;
what Thara called “personal cult” (built for one or more of the king’s family)
There are four entrances towards each of the cardinal points (which are absolutely accurate in all cases – we checked!). Only the east and west, (the main entrances) have boundary stones (as these are the most important – sunrise and sunset).
In an effort to unite the country, King J7 embraced both Buddhism and Hinduism. Either side of the main corridor there were two shrines, one with alcoves containing Rishi (the Hindu equivalent of a Buddha):
…And one with Buddhas… which you’ll note are conspicuously absent:
King J7 “disappeared” in 1219 (he came to the throne late, aged 55): it was feared his death (because that was the likely reason – he would have been 94!) would destabilise the country. Many Buddhist icons were then destroyed by King J8 during a religious conflict – he embraced Shiva and tried to convert people back to Hinduism.
The statues on the entrace road were looted in the 1990s, by Thais who sold them to westerners.
Preah Khan
Preah Khan (“royal sword”) was a “personal cult” temple built for the king’s father. It combines the roles of city, temple and university (with students getting a sword upon graduation to symbolise power; knowledge is power). On the outer wall were 72 garudas (Shiva’s mount) each with two Nagas (snakes): one Buddhist and one Hindu.
Inside many temples, including this one, was inscribed a yearly record of events (when it was built, for what purpose, etc). These have provided a valuable source of information for today (along with, notably, the writings of a Chinese man who visited Cambodia at the end of C13 and, quite diligently it seems, recorded what he found). It’s interesting to note that Cambodia did not have a written language until 611.
Preah Khan has been subject to looting as recently as the 1990s when Thais stole artefacts to sell to westerners.
Graffiti evidences it’s use as an army camp in the 1970s:
And seeing the tank tyres tracks in the stone brought a lump to my throat, an undeniable and tangible footprint of the country’s horrific recent past:
On the round base of the pedestal in the central tower would originally have stood a tribute to the king’s father (Buddhist), but was replaced in the C13 with a Shiva Linga evidenced by the single hole and spout (Hindu). When it was converted back to a Buddhist temple in C16 (hope you’re keeping up with this), the Shiva Linga was moved. The base has kindly been restored by the French. With concrete:
They’ve got a lot to answer for, the French (but don’t we all).
Plasterwork and gems would have originally adorned the walls (hence the holes in the walls for them to adhere to):
Spending the whole day with Thara (and Peourk) was a pleasure. He seemed genuinely pleased that I was interested in his country’s history and culture, and had a little knowledge already. In stark contrast, it would seem, to the Chinese. The vast majority of tourists here are Chinese (not surprising given how geographically close they are) but, in his words, “we get the quantity… but not the quality”.
“Look,” he said, pointing to a couple of tour guides lounging outside one of the temple entrances. “The Chinese want to go round the temples by themselves.”
“So why hire a tour guide?!”
He shrugged.
Unfortunately, my experience reflected his opinion: nearly all the Chinese I met were impolite, detached and, in some cases, downright rude, traits I have never seen in my close Chinese friend. But she’s been in the UK since 11. Is that significant? Is it a language thing? Or the culture? Or differences in what’s socially acceptable? Don’t know – might have to go to China to find out.
We talked about other types of visitor. “There are some westerners who come from Thailand, where apparently they’re called 3S tourists: sun, sea and sex.”
Cambodia is not the same. His views on this kind of thing are strongly influenced by his religion and culture: to commit adultery, sleep with a married person (your own spouse excepted, of course!) or engage with promiscuous people is considered bad luck. We agreed that this was inevitable: “bad people give you a headache”. He also explained that women were considered second-class. How any religion can elevate one human-being above another and yet promote peace and tolerance (which they basically all do: be nice seems to be the general consensus), strikes me as hypocritical and, to put not too fine a point on it, wrong. We got on well (I know which market to buy trainers from in Phnom Penh, which brands are best and how much to pay!), but I noticed that he avoided any physical contact, even our feet touching as we sat face-to-face in the tuk-tuk. But he also appeared to know, understand and respect that I came from a different culture.
He’d clocked my old Asics running trainers straight away and was pleased I’d paid three times what he had for his. We didn’t discuss the price:earnings ratio… His English was superb – I spoke naturally and he’d ask if he didn’t understand. He knew words in English that astonished me, including: sluice, duct, destiny and canopy. And he called bathrooms “happy rooms”! Hungry to extend his vocab, he asked me (by describing it) to teach him: marquee, cellophane, fate and polystyrene. Oh, and I gave him a lesson on how to pronounce the letter “v” 🙂
Banteay Srei
Banteay Srei is the furthest (and also one of the oldest) temples on the standard Siem Reap tourist trail, distinctive by its intricate carvings and red stone:
Commissioned by King J2 in 967, he died in 968 (bummer, eh?) and it was finished by his successor.
Three holes and a spout: that must mean it’s a Hindu statue to Shiva (not a Shiva Linga) with the three holes for Shiva, Rama and Rama’s wife, Sita. The spout (which represents the female genitalia where the Linga represents the male) always points north.
Cambodia’s two equinoxes fall on 23 Mar and 22 Sep (when both the day and night last 12 hours) and they used them to accurately identify the four cardinal points. This is over 1,000 years ago so it’s pretty impressive.
As we went out, I noticed the door frames were very low. “Were they short people?” I asked. “No, it is so people entering pay respect by bowing their heads.” Very neat.
Pre Rup
And finally, Pre Rup. It was the first temple I saw on Thursday’s aborted Grand Tour and how much more it meant now. Built in 961, the name means “transform” (from human to spirit and from body to ashes) and was King R2’s state temple.
And then back to the hotel – tired, happy and, for the first time in my life, totally and utterly stoned 😉
A day to recover from “templitis” before re-trying the tour of the smaller temples tomorrow.
Research suggested that I should have visited the National Angkor Museum *before* the temples, but I found it easier to take in all the information as a) I’d heard some of it before from my guide, and b) it meant more having seen the actual buildings. No photos allowed, but some interesting information:
Hindu’s three main gods represent the three stages of primitive matter: Brahma (creation), Vishnu (preservation) and Shiva (destruction), all working together to continue the cycle of life. Angkorian kings who were Hindus, tended to “follow” one of the three gods (usually Vishnu or Shiva)
Shiva can be represented either in human form (with a third eye) or phallic form, which is called Shiva Linga
Shiva’s mount was a bull, which is why cows are considered sacred by Hindus
It’s said that the forked tongue of the serpent is a sign of the intensity of the nectar it drank to become immortal. The shedding of a snake’s skin is symbolic of this immortality
Angkor Wat symbolises the centre of the Hindu universe (but unfortunately, it didn’t go into any more detail, so I’m still not sure where those photos actually were – answers on a postcard, please)
Angkor Thom is considered a microcosm of the universe, and the temple of Bayon stands as a symbolic link between heaven and earth
King J7 (the good guy at the end of the Angkorian period) had two wives, who are both considered the country’s true heroes and protectors: the first was community- and charity-focused; when she died, he married her older sister who was very knowledgeable and intelligent, and was appointed head professor of the university
King J7 had temples built to honour his father (Pre Khan) and mother (Ta Phrom, aka Tomb Raider)
The “five gems of Buddhist wishes” are:
longevity
prosperity
health
strength
happiness
Walking back (in the opposite direction to the on-coming traffic, of course!), I spied a hairdressers. Didn’t get round to it before I left the UK, so decided in a split second and hopped across the road. He spoke reasonably good English, and I used a scissor sign to show how much to cut off. “No problem” he said, sat me down… and got out the clippers.
I prefer my hair long and so look after it, and get it cut twice a year (if I get round to it), but I’m not particularly precious about my hair, so I sat back and watched with interest. He proceeded to use trimmers to get rid of the bottom four inches or so, and then snipped around with scissors in a very artistic fashion. He seemed pleased with his work, and I had no idea whether it was any good or not. But it was shorter, seemed fine… and only cost $3. Result.
“Lunch” (in inverted commas because by this time it was 4pm) was spring rolls at a restaurant on “Pub Street”, which has came into existence because us westerners like to drink. And lots of us come here. I thought it’d be light but they were massive and filled me up. I wondered afterwards whether it was actually because my stomach had shrunk – I’m eating significantly less since I started my travels. Not intentionally, it’s just so hot here that you don’t ever feel like eating.
Except icecream, there’s always room for icecream, so I stopped at the mini-market again. That was when I saw it – round the edge, just after the “No colouring” bit:
Panic. Is it good to eat Conversatives, or not? The icecream I bought yesterday didn’t mention Tories, so I’m not sure how to play this one. Please advise.
Everyone else had a tour guide. I just had a driver – a lovely man, but ancient Cambodian civilisation wasn’t his strong point. Nor was English, unfortunately, and my Cambodian is, shall we say, limited. I’d arrived at the first temple (Pre Rup) on the “Grand Tour” – it was amazing, but I had no idea what I was looking at…
An hour later, I was back at Angkor Thom – a guide was available for the “small tour” today, so another slight change of plan.
Today was information overload – this post may be a bit dry, I’m afraid, but I found it really interesting. I’m not going to even try to reproduce everything here – I haven’t the time to properly research it and create a coherent essay on the subject, so I won’t embarrass myself by trying. This is what I believe to be correct, but don’t take my word for any of it! Anyway, here are some of the highlights.
Introduction
Cambodian history has three main periods:
Pre-Angkorian (C1 – C8)
Animists – they believed non-human entities “possess a spiritual essence”
Agricultural way of life
Angkorian (C9 – C13)
802 AD: King J2 founded the Khmer Empire – he was a Buddhist
Most (all?) of the 4,000 temples were built during this period
Some kings were Hindu (favouring either Shiva or Vishnu, two of the three main Hindu gods)
1181 AD: Last “great” king, King J7, came to power and, although a Buddhist, united the people through acceptance of both Hinduism and Buddhism
Post-Angkorian (C14 – C20)
C15: Thais captured the Cambodian capital, Angkor. Afterwards, it was abandoned and a new capital founded at Phnom Phen
C16 – C18: temples were left to ruin
C19: French “restoration”
“Khmer” is a two-syllable word with varied pronunciation but the accent always on the last syllable: either “Ka” (as in “caravan”) and “my”; or “Ke” (as in “cake”) and “mare”.
At this point, I was distracted by the elephants:
Angkor Thom (AT)
The original city was built in 987 by King J1. In 1181, King J7 came to power when the Chinese came to support them against the Chams (who had invaded in 1178). He established it as the last capital city of the Khmer empire, changed the name to Angkor Thom (Khmer for “Great City”), and built hospitals, universities and rest houses. An estimated 11,000 high-rankers lived within the city walls, with about one million commoners living outside but coming inside for festivals, celebrations and sporting events. King J7 was well-liked as he lived “like the people”.
Angkor Thom has five entrances:
North: for craftsmen/artists
East: two entrances – one for the deceased who go out to be cremated, and one for “victory” (the military would return through this gate)
South: where we were
West: for “death”, for instance prisoners who were executed went out by this gate. Constructions in Cambodia don’t face west – it’s only for “death” gates. The significant exception is Angkor Wat (see later).
Every entrance has the same decoration. The gatehouses have a big smiling face on each side, facing the four cardinal points and representing the four “supreme states of mind”: compassion, sympathy, charity and equinamity; and along the balustrades leading to the main city there 54 (one for each of the provinces at the time) demons on one side and 54 gods on the other, all holding a snake (like a tug-of-war, representing the struggle between good and evil).
Although Buddhist, King J7 encouraged tolerance and unity, and his temples embrace both Hinduism and Buddhism. At the centre of the city is King J7’s state temple, the Bayon.
Bas-reliefs depict stories, such as the victory party (to which the Chinese were invited, of course!):
Apparently, this spot in the temple is a popular place to take a photo:
And here, because the temple is short so you can (almost) get it all in:
When the Thais invaded in C15, they destroyed most of the Buddhist icons, the sight of which i actually found a little upsetting:
Some other photos from Bayon now follow, to try to give a sense of the place. A courtyard:
A gallery (like cloisters, and I like cloisters):
The view:
And apparently, this is the remains of a reclining Buddha – the hollow below the curvature of stone (about horizontal middle) is his eye:
I think this is the rear view, as we headed off to the king’s residence:
… where he had two swimming pools built for his staff. The ladies’ measures 92 x 35m (he had lots of lady servants) and the mens’ just 30 x 25m (you can just make it out in the background):
And on to the Grand Stand, where the king would watch sports and entertainments, much like the “Royal stand” today:
Elephants were carved around the platform, giving it the name “Terrasse de Elephants”:
Ta Phrom
Second of the main temples is Ta Phrom, also known as the “Jungle Temple” and, of course, “Tomb Raider”. You can immediately see why they used this for the film: it’s relatively untouched and atmospheric.
For film buffs, here’s one of the kapok trees, also known as the “Angelina Jolie” tree (before you get excited, that’s not her in the picture, I’m afraid):
And here’s a clear example of the changing religions – see how the original Buddhist carving in a lotus position (with horizontal legs) has been re-carved as a Hindu (with higher knees and a pointy beard):
Some more photos to give a sense of the place:
Angkor Wat
Angkor Wat (“Temple city”) is the largest religious monument in the world (shhh – don’t tell Dubai, please?). It was originally founded as a Hindu temple (early C12), by King S2 as his state temple and eventual mausoleum. This is one reason given for it being the only west-facing temple – because west was associated with death.
Khmer temple architecture has a “temple mountain”, designed to present the sacred Mount Meru, to please the gods and win their approval so that, upon death, the king becomes a god. Galleries were added later – here’s a plan:
Extensive bas-reliefs adorn the gallery walls:
Here’s a courtyard within the gallery, outside the main tower:
… which had spectacular views:
… although the steps were very steep – eek!
At this point I get a little confused. I’m sure my guide explained that this was the “centre of the Hindu universe”, so the centre of the site. But surely that’d be the central tower…? Anyway, he seemed keen that I have photos:
It really is magnificent:
Sunset
Another item on the “tourist tick-list” is watching the sunset from Phnom Bakheng, a temple on atop a hill about 1.5km from Angkor Wat. So I strode up the hill… to join a queue of about a thousand people waiting for one of the 300 passes. And then there was a mass exodus – the show was over. But I decided to go up anyway…. and caught the impressive rainstorm coming over the horizon. See, I told you you make your own luck 😉
Dinner
Thai and Cambodian food is excellent: spicy, but in a flavourful way rather than just pure heat, fresh and delicious. But I was stir-fried out… I really fancied a steak. I started with minestrone soup (it was delicious) – it was obviously made by someone who had got a receipe, but not actually seen minestrone soup! I especially liked their version of the garlic bread:
And then it hit me: not only had they never been to Italy, but they never would. Cambodia is poor, really poor. Even the “middle class” is poor by our standards. None of the Cambodians I’ve spoken had ever left Cambodia, and most hadn’t travelled much within it either, and the odds are stacked against them (I understand that political corruption is rife). Yet they display generosity, kindness and smiles! Westerners descend upon Siem Reap in droves. And they welcome us. A cynic may say they’re just after our dollars, but I think this is both ignorant and arrogant – they are justifiably proud of their country, and seem to genuinely want us to see it and enjoy ourselves. And they go out of their way to help (for instance, when the hotel was unable to help with a guide at such short notice, the tuk-tuk driver called round his contacts to find someone for me). Yes, the constant hassling is tiring, but they’re only trying to survive…
Death valley supports a surprising amount of life. I was expecting grey desert, but there *is* water (I saw a puddle, although it was so salty you’d be seriously ill if you drank it) and vegetation. Life goes on. Bangkok felt similar, with people just getting on with it – stalls in front of shops, a little cafe below a dual-carriageway bridge, street vendors on street corners.
On the skytrain to the airport, scenes alternated between run-down residential areas, industrial sites and affluent developments. The landscape is an intriguing mixture of concrete and lush vegetation. I wasn’t sad to leave, because I knew I’d be coming back.. I may even plan to spend a few more days here before my flight home, and wondered how I’d feel about returning to somewhere months, and hopefully many adventures, later…
Smallest commercial plane I’ve ever been on – it was more like a single-decker bus with wings. It was a bumpy ride with a flight path like a traffic cone: up, along a little bit, and back down.
I totally needed the chocolate cupcake:
Arriving Siem Reap (pronounced “See-um Ree-up”) was uneventful, apart from the man at passport control who would benefit from some customer service training (his distaste for all who crossed his path was almost tangible). Cambodian writing was the first thing I noticed – distinctly different from Thai (but still completely unintelligible to someone who only speaks Latin-based languages).
“Is this the bus into the centre?” I asked three blokes throwing their bags in the back of a minivan.
“Sure, hop in.” Turns out it was their hotel transfer… and that my hotel was only three doors away. But, unfortunately, the driver was wrong, and it wasn’t. I grabbed a map, and headed in vaguely the right direction. And then the heavens opened:
Not for the first time, I arrived (an hour later) at my hotel dripping and tired. And again, they couldn’t have been nicer (but no upgrade – perhaps I should have mentioned my pants 😉 ).
Some random information about Cambodia (not verified, but from fairly reliable sources):
It’s about one and a half times the size of England
It has a population of about 15 million
90% are Khmer
96% are Theravada Buddhist
20% of the population were killed by the Khmer Rouge (so now 15 million)
50% are younger than 15 years old
It uses US dollars (USD), with the Cambodian riel (KHR) only for amounts below $1
With an average annual income of just $944 per capita, it’s the third poorest country in Asia (after Nepal and Bangladesh)
It has one of the highest rates of deforestation: primary rainforest cover fell from over 70% (1970) to just 3.1% (2007)
Cambodia has changed its name more frequently than almost any other country in the world – a sign of its turbulent past…?
Traditionally, birthdays are not celebrated in Cambodia. Older people might not even know their birthdays.
Ken learnt his (rather good) English from the Harry Potter movies. “You talk like Harry”, he enthused. I’d got to the Grand Palace before the crowds, bought a ticket and spent some time with the “Emerald Buddha” (those who discovered him thought he was made of emerald as they’d never heard of jade, and the name stuck). He has three costume changes: hot season, rainy season and cold season.
I decided to get a guide. The place was huge and, unlike Wat Pho, information boards were non-existent. Signed up for the free tour (which wasn’t advertised), and I was the only one. So it was just me and Harry. I mean, Ken.
The temple of the Grand Palace has no monks as it is a royal temple, so is a mixture of religion (ordination room, Buddhist shrine) and royalty (buildings to house the accoutrements and remains of past kings).
It was originally built in wood, due to lack of funds, by King Rama I. By the time his grandson (King Rama III – they display a distinct lack of imagination when naming their offspring) reigned, Siam was more prosperous due to trade with China, and he had it covered with gold leaf (which only took three years to complete because everyone came to help), and then “jewels” (glass). Four colours of glass represent the four elements: red (fire), blue (water), silver (air) and yellow (earth):
Around the temple are galleries (much like “cloisters”) with “the world’s longest painting” (according to Ken; according to Google that’s in Eritrea) depicting the story of how the queen was captured by demons and humans enlisted help of monkeys (who could make themselves super-strong and grow three extra pairs of arms) to defeat them and rescue her. School children learn the story and study sections of it much like our nativity story and the Bible.
There was also a rather impressive model of Angkor Wat (the main attraction in Cambodia) as it used to “belong” to Siam (when they invaded Cambodia; it was then subsequently invaded by the French):
The main residential building of the Grand Palace itself is built in the French style, supposedly to show more developed nations that “they could do it, too”. At this point Ken also referred to Buckingham Palace.
The princess doesn’t live in the main building, but a plainer edifice behind it, as she married a commoner, thus diluting the royal blood line – whilst she retains her title, none of her offspring have royal status (in fact, her son was killed in the tsunami, and did not get a royal burial).
And then Ken pointed to it – an imitation Buckingham Palace… but it’s in Thailand, so the king had a Thai roof put on it. And it has a French interior.
And it comes complete with guards (with a different hat because our furry variety is way too hot for here) and tourists:
Seriously, you couldn’t make this up!
I also saw the throne room. It actually has two thrones because the original (by Rama I), is triangle-shaped and uncomfortable to sit in so Rama III had another one made. When ordained, the new king is given five things by his predecessor:
Crown (power)
Sword (military victory)
Staff (longevity)
Fan (health – to bat away disease)
Shoes (care of the people)
The gold crown (7.3kg) and shoes (6.5kg) are heavy, so he keeps all this stuff in his bedroom!
A museum of coins, medals and royal paraphenalia was mediocre. When I emerged at about 1:30pm the main palace entrance was absolutely heaving – so glad I got before all the tour parties arrived. Then to the “Queen Sirikit Textile Museum” that was also included in the ticket price. Clothes aren’t really my thing (if you hadn’t already worked that out!), but it was actually quite interesting (no photos allowed for obvious reasons). And the exit, as per usual, was via the gift shop. But this was like no other I’ve seen – instead of the usual tat of pencils, jars of jam, branded poor-quality chocolate and plastic stuff, it was filled with fabrics, clothes and a variety of items made using Thai silk, supporting a charity that supports local Thai craftspeople. Quality items from table runners, toiletry bags and picture frames to scarves, hand bags and key rings:
Then I wandered back to my hotel, via Khao San Road, to further cries of “Tuk-tuk?”
