A Sticky Mix: Good, Evil, Friends and Temples

Days 68-74: Phnom Penh and Ankgor Wat, Cambodia

A bumpy, butt-numbing ride through steamy monsoon forests. A long, seemingly forgotten road to a few rotting shacks with a ragtag posse of armed, uniformed men who claimed to be border guard/immigration agents/con men. Do you see our obligatory border flag? That will cost a little bribe, amigo. A few dollars exchanged, another stamp in the passport and a "seamless" entrance into Cambodia, with Laos in the rearview. Humidity is free of charge.

But soon, as we entered the towns and cities, the history of the place became all too real. As with Myanmar, we sensed the echoes of tragedy. But the darkness and evil that occurred at the hands of the Khmer Rouge is unparalleled, and we shuddered at its remnants. Beggars left limbless by a landmine. Museums displaying Khmer Rouge torture chambers. Billboards with cartoon-like messages that encourage villagers to hand over their AK-47's. We were walking a tourist trail on the heels of death, famine and genocide. However, whereas Myanmar is in the throes of repression, much of which is hidden from the outside world (and from visitors like us), Cambodia is in the process of rebuilding and reconciliation, displaying its wounds to the world in hopes of speeding up the healing. A conversation with a cabbie summed it up: a big smile of teeth (and grime) related stories of suffering.

We began in Phnom Penh, the capital. At times, it felt like Paris a la sauna: baguette vendors, grand waterfront promenades, colonial buildings; plus extra sweat and spice . . . And all the people have such beautiful faces; a distinctively Cambodian beauty of round, kind eyes, soft skin, big smiles. Simply beautiful people. We strolled by cafes, museums, dining at non-profit restaurants dedicated to a cause, say, teaching street children how to succeed in the hospitality business (and avoid destitution, crime, drugs). Before the war, it must have been a remarkable place.

But our wanderings always came with a sobering dose of the history; evidence of the past genocide and war, still so recent, was overwhelming at times. Particualrly at S-21, a former high school turned torture headquarters by the Khmer Rouge. It is now a museum, filled with empty rooms - floors still stained with blood - and other rooms, filled with black-and-white photos of individuals "liquidated" by the Khmer. Shocking. Disturbing. So much killing, all for the sake of a few individuals' ideology. Not even over gold, oil or something tangible. We just couldn't understand it. Then, as we left the museum, standing outside we encountered a limbless, disfigured Cambodian man, begging, and we wondered - was he tortured like this as well? Nevertheless, he smiled on.

It was not all so intense. The Mekong glows at sunset; jacaranda trees embrace the street; nightlife pumps onto the promenades, sweaty and sticky in the night heat; children playing; Cambodian teenagers party away, with no memory of the war; old Western men clutch their young Cambodian escorts, laughing their guilt away (we gagged) . . . we took in cocktails from the elevated balcony of a romantic cafe, watching, oh yes, an elephant crossing a major highway, with his "driver." We roamed through lively markets with some very random food choices (hairy tarantuals, anyone?), took in the buddha carving workshops (the Khmer Rouge destroyed all Buddhist imagery, so now they are remaking them), yummy bubble iced teas over chess. Again, a magical city. Pumping out history: spicy, bloody, sticky. We loved Phnom Penh.

Next, off to the mighty temples of Ankgor. One of the seven wonders of the world, and - with the arrival of our beautiful friends Beau, Kitty and Jed - a welcome change of pace: our first visitors from home! At first, it was almost shocking to have them, across the table, in Cambodia of all places. Sort of a reality check on how small the world is, and also how far away from home we were. Yet, here they were, right in our world. Airplanes are so cool.

After a night of drinks and spicy food, Beau having pummeled through a few plates of spring rolls (man, that kid can eat), we were all up bright and early, zooming in tuk-tuks off to the Angkor kingdom's arhictectural and spiritual gift: hundreds of intricately carved temples spread throughout the Cambodian jungle. Just incredible. A maze of passageways, carved spires, friezes, collonades. Plus, with the exception of a few fully-restored temples, many of them are crumbling and/or overgrown with giant ficus trees and other crawlers. So, we had to step over and under debris, climb past massive, twisting roots, and reconstruct in our heads what the original may have looked like. It was a unique playground, fueling the imagination.


And of course, for those who know him, give Beau some temples in a foreign land, and he is back to his usual goofiness, with Kitty smiling the whole time. They are a precious combo. Kitty was so in-tuned with the kids; she does indeed have the biggest heart in the world, which was a good example after Al and I had become more than jaded by months of saying no to begging children. Beau was usually fondling some precious artefact, about to break a frieze or take out a monk with his large squash butt. And Jed, quite admirably, feigned sanity as he fought off some ridiculous jetlag. Beer certinaly aided him.

So we cruised the town of Siem Reap with a crew. Our time together was short, as plans to continue together in Vietnam could not materialize. But we had a beautiful few days together, taking in one of the most spectacular sites in Asia. As the photos show . . .