New Years: Where Else?

Just before the sun rose over Angkor Wat on the first day of 2007. 明けましておめでとう！今年もようりしくね！

It's only been a few days since I let the colorful cambodian capitol of Phnom Penh, its bustling streets overflowing with life, laughter, poverty, and hope, but the Khmer colored collage of city and countryside is still fresh in my mind. Painted in thick, textured strokes of dry, golden rice fields, shimmering swirls of warm sunlight, and the dark, midnight shaded sihouettes of tall, slender sugar palms against a radiant, ruby and clementine sky, I might as well have been sharing the view with Van Gogh.

I can still taste the restless, rust-colored clouds of dust that swallowed my mighty motodup and I, resurrected from dry, dirt roads by the occasional passover of a precariously packed pick up. Men, women, children, animals, furniture, some standing, some seated, some sitting on top of each other or other cargo, some hanging on for dear life, all smiling at me from beneath their colorful, checkered scarves as they passed. I can still hear the bubbling laughter of children jumping into ponds filled with blue skies and floating water lillies, with only drops of sparkling water covering their richly spiced, chai colored skin like fine, jeweled silks.

Billowing saffron robes draped with modest dignity over deeply bronzed skin dot the landscape of my memories, pausing beneath matching umbrellas to bless an almsgiver.

Shoeless children, with smudged faces and tattered clothing, carry bags too big for their small bodies, collecting whatever might fill the emptiness in their bellies or fetch a few hundred Riel. Heart-breakingly beautiful children, their knotted hair lightened by malnutrition, covered in scabs, bug bites, dirt, and little else, sleeping peacefully in the shallow shelter of a store front. Others stand as if under a spell, holding small bags to their mouth, filling their lungs with poison.

Cambodia.

Sometimes I just don't know what to say.

Perhaps I should start by finishing the last chapter in my travels there: Battambang.

Kids Just Wanna Have Fun

These two cutenesses lived at the small temple, and came along to join the fun with the monks and I. The young boy will probably enter the monkhood when he is old enough (usually about 13 years of age).

This little boy was pimpin' his blue pinstripe pajama set...

His little sister seemed quite comfortable in her matching blue striped PJ pants, but opted for a more feminie,yellow top (with ruffles mind you).

Not to be out done, big bro felt the need to bust out the shades.

Aren't they both beautiful? So full of joy, even without the latest fall pieces from the Abercrombie & Fithch Kids fall collection, a new Play Station or a TV.

Kids (Even Monks) Just Wanna Have Fun

Hey! Who's taking the pictures here? My new friends lead me through the lush jungle to their secluded forest temple.

Tucan Sam-uth!

Smiling as he showed me around the temple grounds. Little buddhas everywhere!

Ah the joy of digital cameras!

Looks like there's a budding photographer in their midst...

In the process of wrapping himself up in his brilliant orange robes.

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.

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...

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...

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.

Sues'day!

The smile of a young monk (17 years old) reflected in the ancient carvings of the Bayon, Angkor Thom, part of the world heritage Angkor Wat temple complex in Siem Reap, Cambodia. Behind him, one of 216 faces watch over the temple.

Destination Cambodia: 4 Days and counting!

Could it be?

Is that Angelina Jolie? Sadly,no. It's only me (although the resemblence is startling). I've always been a bit of a tree- hugger, but I think this sudden outburst of affection was the due to the realization that I had finally found a place where I could live out my childhood dream of being Indiana Jones. Angkor Thom, Cambodia.

Guess Where I'm Going...

Ta Prom: The Jungle Temple

The temple of Ta Prom has been left more or less as it was found, with an overgrowth of jungle and portions tumbled down. It gives you some idea of what the first westerners found when they began exploring the area in the late 19th century.

When I told people I was going to Cambodia, they often asked "Cambodia? Why? What's there?" Once I said Angkor Wat, a light went off in many of their heads. "Oh! That's where they made Tomb Raider! Sweet!" Well, I haven't seen Tomb Raider (Angelina Jolie), and I probably never will. If you have, this may look a bit familliar.

Massive webs of Banyon roots cling to sandstone walls, stained by centuries and dancing with intricately carved apsaras. Mounds of moss-rocks, victims of neglect and the the crushing roots of the encroaching jungle, lie defeated, scattered throughout the temple grounds. Droplets of light trickling through the lush green foilage, caught in the mist of monsoon season, creates a mysterious, ethereal air.

Though many signs warn tourists of the danger of exploring most of the tumbling temple grounds, I couldnt help but scatter up mountains of fallen stones into hidden courtyards,stumbling over the tangle of knarled roots slithering down the walls and through the temple passages, and past the warning signs standing gaurd in the darkened doorways of the temple's shadow-veiled interior. I even stumbled into a small chamber acoustically designed so that when I beat upon my chest, the entire temple seemed to shutter from the thunderous echo. I was in full Indaina Jones mode. I could have stayed there forever.

Apparently this is the doorway where Angelina Jolie bends down and picks something up. Anyone who's seen the movie, please feel free to elaborate!

I was lucky to visit the temple at a time when most tourists are headed elsewhere! These few stand in awe.

Angkor's Apsaras

Apsaras are an embodiment of the ideal female beauty in Cambodian culture. Both modern and ancient Khmer artists rendered them elaborately and with great emotional intensity.

Dance in Cambodia is as ancient as the temples of Angkor, whose carved facades seem to dance. A single gallery in Angkor Wat alone features over 1,500 of these dancing nymphs, synonomous with the Cambodian idea of beauty. The word apsara derives, like much of the culture of ancient Angkor, from Indian Hindu influences. Apsaras were lesser goddesses of unimaginable beauty who danced for the entertainment of higher gods.



The dancers originally performed topless, and so they are often depicted in has-relief. It was only due to later Chinese influence that they began performing clothed. The dances features over 4,500 body movements known in Khmer as kbach. A pin peat ensemble consisting of oboes, xylophones, gongs and drums provides musical accompaniment along side singers who narrate the stories.



The term "apsara dance" today is interchangeable with court classical dance. At the height of the Khmer Empire, it is estimated that there were 3,000 Apsara dancers in the 12th century court of King Jayavarman VII. When Angkor was sacked in at the begining of the 15th century, the Apsara dancers were seized and taken to Thailand. Classical dance survived, and its influence spread throughout the region.

The Khmer Rouge considered dancing to represent the decadent Royalist society itwas determined to stamp out. Its proponents were executed or sent from their city homes to work in a countryside they did not understand. It is estimated that 90 percent of all dancers and musicians were killed during the reign of the Khmer Rouge regime. Along with them died the knowledge of many dance and theatre forms. Thankfully, those who survived have dedicated themselves to preserving this ancient art of Cambodian culture, and passing it on to the next generation.