Symphony in Stone and Saffron: Bayon

I met this beautiful young monk at the Bayon.

We spent a lot of time hanging out at the temple, trying desperately to communicate in gestures and smiles, before they invited me back to their little temple hidden in the forest.

Apsara Dance

Classical Cambodian ballet is a stunningly graceful, 2,000-year-old blend of sinuous hand gestures and sensuous body movements, all deep with meaning. The graceful movements of the Apsara dancers, adorned with brilliant gold headdresses and colorful, silk tunics and skirts, are carved on the walls of many of the temples at Angkor. Estimates are that there were 3,000 Apsara dancers in the 12th century court of King Jayavarman VII.

Dancing holds great significance for the Khmer people, and the government considers the Royal Ballet in particular to be a national treasure. In the past, the classical dance was the Royal dance, performed only before kings to commemorate their dynastic ancestors and to honor the gods.

The Apsara tradition was devastated by the Pol Pot years. Dancers were killed in large numbers as symbols of bourgeoise excess, and only a few instructors survived to keep the ancient tradition alive.

Until I can embed it, you can watch one of my videos of the dance here.

Smiles of the Bayon

I met this young monk at the Bayon, and spent the rest of the afternoon playing with him and his friends at their small pagoda in the forest. My best memories(and photographs) of the temples of Angkor are of the people I met there. As amazing as the temples are, they pale in comparison to the beauty and resilience of the Cambodian people.

Yeay Bayon, or Grandma Bayon. If you've been to the Bayon, chances are you may have seen this beautiful old nun hiding in one of the many chambers, inviting visitors to burn incense before a small idol of the buddha. At 75 years old, Yeay Bayon a rarity in a nation recovering from the brutal legacy of Pol Pot and civil war.

A young Apsara teacher shows off her soft hands and beautiful smile. A single mother with 3 children, she left her husband after he repeatedly beat her, spending what little money they had on alcohol. Now she supports her children by singing at a local Apsara dinner theater and teaching. At 28, she says she is too old to dance. "Only young and beautiful girls can dance for tourists." I didn't get to see her dance, but she invite me to hear her sing. Hopefully I'll be able to get a video of the Apsara performance up soon...

The Land of Eternal Smiles

Just 2 of the 216 enigmatic faces keeping watch over the Bayon, Angkor Thom.

A manifestation of King Jayavarman VII`s mystic Buddhist beliefs, the Bayon is a spiritual experience. Built in the 13th century, it was the last state temple to be built at Angkor, and the only one to be built primarily as a Mahayana Buddhist temple. From each of the survivng 54 towers, standing in the center of Angkor Thom, the kingdom's capitol, the enlightened grins of the Boddhisattva Avalokitesvara, one of the most worshipped divinities in Mahayana Buddhism and the kingdom's principal divinity, watches over the temple and out into the surrounding jungle. Carved in the likeness of the King himself (his portrait is known from other sculptures found elsewhere in Cambodia and Thailand), these enigmatically smiling faces portrayed the King as god, symbolizing his omnipresence and omnipotence.

When Chou Ta-Kuan visited Angkor in 1297-98, Bayon's towers were covered in gold, which was stripped by later conquorers. While Angkor Wat was kept from the ravages of the jungle by Buddhist monks, Bayon was forgotten- left to the mercy of nature. Four and a half centuries took their toll...

Experience a little bit of the Bayon for yourself, here.

Unforgettable: The Children of Ta Prom

Things I will never forget: La's smile.

I've been putting off this post because I realized I am missing the CD of pictures I took at Ta Prom and the Bayon. I kept hoping it would magically materialize in my bookbag or under one of the many piles of junk accumulating in my apartment, but deep down, I know exactly where it is: On a computer in a Siem Reap interent cafe. (ioi) Saddness. At least I have my memories, and a comforting feeling that I will see these children again.

The way Ba scrambled up and over the crumbling ruins of the temples without any shoes.

When I first met Ba, he was hiding behind a moss colored sandstone wall, crouching among the piles of stones thrown down by the crushing roots of the Banyon trees. Like me, he seemed to be hinding from the few remaining tour groups rushing through the temple grounds, hurrying behind tour guides leaving echos of Spanish, Italian, French, Japanese and German echoing through the quiet courtyard. I sat alone in silence for awhile before I noticed him peaking out at me, only to take cover when I looked up at him. I began playing a game of peek-a-boo, which brought an adorabley beautiful smile to his dirt-smudged face. It was getting late, and the last of the tourists had long since passed through our secret courtyard, but I wasn't quite ready to leave this beautiful boy all alone.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, assuming he'd understand an exaggerated gesture of me scooping food into my mouth. He giggled. "You. Me. Yum yum?" He shook his head no and climbed back up on the rocks. "Oh, come on Ba! (We had been though the name and age formalities) I know your hungry! Let's go!" He scrambled up over the rocks and disappeared. I was sad to see him go, and sat down on the rocks again hoping he'd come back.

It didnt take long before he reappeared, popping his head out of a darkened doorway with his two friends La and Run close behind. He pointed at me, I assume telling his friends something along the lines of "This is that strange foreigner I was telling you about," although I cant be sure because it was in Khmer. "Come on!" He called to me smiling, ushering me into the darkness with the wave of his hand.

The way Run repeated everything I said, and then busted out into laughter that echoed through the temple courtyrads and chambers.

They led me through the shadow-filled halls of the temple, through tiny cracks and holes showing me hidden apsaras immortalized in stone. Through a small opening of tumbled stone they led me to a narrow chamber, pointing out the small, strangled head of a buddha peaking out through the tangled tree roots. The guided me through the temple laughing and playing with me, smiling all the way, trying their best to communicate in any way they could.

The pure joy of playing.

Getting to know the children: talking, laughing and playing with them. Learning about their lives, their families, their hopes and dreams...

Being able to make them smile so easily, and hearing them laugh.

By the time we left the temple it was almost 6 O' clock. I asked Ba, La and Run where they would like to eat, and they led me to a small stall staffed by a single woman with a huge smile on her face. She spoke very good English, and I told her to give the boys whatever they wanted. A small crowd of children had gathered around me, and were looking up at me with big, hungry eyes. "Madame, yum yum?"

"How much for these kids, too?" I asked her.

"Hmmm," she thought, perhaps struggling to choose between the chance to make a killing off a foreigner or help feed the children. "7 dollars."

"7 dollars? For how many kids?" Looking behind me the crowd had grown considerably. I opened up my wallet. All I had was $12 lousy bucks.

"Hmmm...12 kids."

"How many are there here?" I asked, trying to number the beautiful little faces swirling around me. She shouted out numbers in Khmer to the children, checking to make sure no one was counted twice.

"26." She announced when she was sure she had counted right.

"26?!" I frowned. " I have 12 dollars. Look. I swear its all I have!" I showed her my empty change purse, pulling out my pockets.

"Hmmm..." She thought to herself, looking around at the kids.

"How can I choose only 12 of them?" I asked her, with sincere tears welling up in my eyes. (I swear Im not usually this emotional). "You do it. I cant choose."

"Ok. Ok." she smiled after a long silence. "Khmer price. 12 dollars, everyone eats!" Khmer price or not, sounded like a deal to me.

26 of the children from the nearby villages get ready for some yum-yum (^-^)/

My Friendly Ta Prom Tour Guides

Da, Ba, and Run, my friendly Ta Prom tour guides, show me the secret (well, not so secret) chamber of doom! Well, not so much doom per se as echo and vibration. Sorry. When I talk about Ta Prom, the Indiana Jones inside gets a little carried away.

When I go back to Cambodia, I'm going back to Angkor just to see these kids again...

Japan Update: Kasagi Conquered!

All that remains of my former life as a cheerleader...
And Abbey Sensei's former life as a martial arts master. Good thing the pirates don't know about her Ninja-esque past!

Welcome to the Jungle: Ta Prom

My first visit to Ta Prom was unforgettable, and I couldn`t wait to explore the tangles of tree roots and temple ruins all over again. This time, it was the people I met there that I`ll never forget.

It`s taken me forever to get these pictures up. Hopefully I`ll get the time to write a bit more about them soon...Gomen ne, minna! m(- -)m

Welcome to Angkor!

Arrival outside of Siem Reap, after a remarkable comfortable and quick (comparatively speaking) bus ride from Phnom Phen.


Approaching Angkor Wat, hoping to catch the sunset from its central peak...


I`ve never seen Angkor in this light before...So beautiful!


Ahh! I can`t escape them! They`re everywhere! (^_<) Just kidding. My new Japanese friends Nori, Sayaka and Hiro.

Due to a YahooBB bill that went unpaid during my visit to Cambodia, I have been experiencing some technical difficulties. Hopefully I`ll be able to get more up soon!

Savanna Phum: The Golden Land

Sunrise over Angkor Wat.

The Children of Psar Toul *Tom*Poung

Walking back towards the riverside, my very last elastic hair band snapped. I'm sure you're wondering why I feel the need to share this with you, but just trust me, ok? My fro was wild and untamed, and Cambodia is way too hot for that. I found a moto dup and headed for the old Russian market, Psar Toul Tom Poung.

By the time we arrived, many of the shopkeepers were closing up. I ran into the dark and desserted market, looking for anyone who might be able to help me. In desperation I ran to a small Khmer woman almost hidden behind a multi-colored mountain of silk, smiling as I greeted her as politely as I could. She smiled and looked very eager to help an obviously clueless foreigner wandering around the empty market. I showed her my hair band and she pointed me a few stalls down, smiling and laughing. I ran down to the stall just as they were pulling the metal barrier down. With one look at my desperate face and the broken hair band the old woman laughed and sent her daughter back into the storage space to find me a huge back of hair bands. I bowed, pressed my palms together and gratefully sighed. "Awkoon chiran (Thank you very much)." Relieved, I headed back out onto the street. The sun was fading fast, but the street was coming alive. Colorful mounds of fresh fruits and vegetable spilled out onto the street, as fresh fish, many of them still alive, flapped around in pans or neatly packed baskets.

Oh! See the bright orange squash in the upper left corner? Thats what they call "Japanese pumpkin". I have been told many times that the Japanese word for it, Kabocha, actually comes from the word Cambodia, because that is where the vegetable was originally imported from.


Flopping about, only moments before being "cut to order". Brings new meaning to the word fresh, does it not?

Since it was getting dark, I figured I`d better head back home and get ready for my trip to Siem Reap.

That`s when I met this adorable little girl. She was so beautiful, sitting on the street with her mother, staring up at with me with those big brown eyes. "Hello!" I smiled back at her, waving. "Hello" she said shyly, looking around for her brothers and friends. They were already running towards us from every direction screaming "Hello, hello, hello!"

"Hello!" I laughed, suprised at their speedy response time. Someone took hold of my hand, and I looked down to find an adorable little girl smiling up at me. "Ha-lo" she whispered, giggling to herself. "Da da!" ( Lets go, or something along those lines!) one of the boys called out, and soon we were on our way down the street, stopping at every child we met to say hello. Most of them joined our odd little parade through the crowded street, single file, with me infront and the rest of the crew close behind.

When the crowd thinned and we had some space to play without getting run over, I marched forward with exaggerated movements. The kids would hurry behind, mimicking my every move until I stopped suddenly, and they all crashed into me, laughing. After awhile the kept their distance, bursting into giggles if I even pretended to stop, or looked back at them over my shoulder. Then I would pull and instant replay reverse, running backwards until I got someone. Up and down the street, we marched, amusing moto dups and adults.

"I'm thirsty!" I caught myself exclaiming nvoluntarily. Its not like any of them understood me. The little girl looked up at me with sad eyes. "Thirsty! Gulp, gulp, gulp" I smiled at her, pretending to pour something into my mouth and finishing the gesture off with a great big "Ahhh!" Her eyes lit up and she took my hand, leading me a few steps. The she stopped. "No. Madame, no." She put her hand over her heart "Me, 500 riel. Madame, no. Madame, 1000." She was trying to tell me that if she bought the water for me, it would be cheaper. "Awkoon chiran!" I I said, touched that she was thinking of me as a friend, and not a rich tourist. I gave her the 500 riel and she disappeared for a moment before sneaking up behind me and under my arm. She smiled as she handed me the cool, wet bottle and a straw. " Thank you cuteness!" I said as she hugged me. Suddenly one of the boys reappeared waving for us to join the fun on the sidewalk.

We tip-toed through the tangle of street venders watching over their wares and up onto the pavement. One of the boys pointed at my camera, pretending to take a picutre and then pointing at all thie kids. "Picture?" I asked. Silly question.

Striking a pose...Now where do you suppose he picked this up?

After they had exhausted their curiousity, seeing themselves in every possible pose played back on my LCD sceen, we began to play Cambodian children`s games. We were split into teams, and squatted in parallel lines facing each other. One team covered their eyes while their team captain tapped a member on the shoulder. That person continued to cover their eyes, holding out one hand. The opposing team silently chose a member to slap it, and if the person could guess who it was, the slapper joined the guesser's team. We played tag and all kinds of good things, and a few of the children even sang and danced for the rest of us.

By now it was quite dark. The mother had found a neighborhood university student who spoke fluent Engish, and brought him over to act as a translator. "Wow. You really like kids!" He said, amazed by the crowd of children that had attached themselves to me. "I love them!" I said, looking down at the sweet heart that continued to cling to my waist. "I just wish I knew what they were saying."

"You don`t speak Khmer?" he asked in suprise. "How long have you been here? What have you been doing?"

"Just a few hours, playing," I said, feeling foolish. He laughed. "What NGO do you work for?"

"No, I don`t work here. I`m just visiting," I said carefully avoiding the T word (toursit).

"Wow. You`re not like most tourists," he said. "Thanks," I smiled.

The little girl tugged at his shirt, saying something softly in Khmer and then looking up at me, smiling. "She said she wants you to take her home with you. She said she wants to sleep with you. I don`t know. Maybe you make her happy, you play with her and make her feel love. She wants to go home and sleep with you. Maybe then she can feel safe."

I looked back down at her and she smiled, nodded, and burried her face into my shirt. My eyes filled up with tears. " Please tell her I want to. I wish I could take her home with me. Wouldn`t your mother miss you? I asked. Oh my gosh Im gonna cry..." I looked away, out into the darkness, trying to catch myself.

"Madame," she called to me softly, speaking Khmer. "Don`t cry, she said" the young man translated. He broke into a long explanation in Khmer, and the mother, standing close by added that it would be Ok with her if I took her, smiling.

The beautiful little girl in question, standing behind me with her mother, brothers and a few friends.

"Please make sure she knows that if I could I would take her home with me, but its not that easy...Please make her understand." He began speaking to her in what seemed to me to be unconcerned Khmer. I wanted her to know that I meant it. I held her little face in my hands and looked in her eyes, but my eyes couldnt hold back the tears any longer. " Madame, no cry." She said, wiping my tears away.

It was getting really late and I was alone. After many hugs and more tears, the kids found me a reliable moto dup willing to make the trip back to the riverfront. They ran after us down the street, waving and saying goodbye. I wish I could have brought them all back with me.

When I arrived at the Paragon, a small group of kids from our pervious feast were there to greet me. "Tomorrow you go to Siem Reap?" They asked. " When you coming back?

So many children ...