“Probably the best Temples in the World…”

Siem Reap, Cambodia – Following a wonderfully languid drift through Laos, it was immediately apparent that we’d arrived somewhere different. A fresh, new, steam-cleaned airport welcomed you to the tourist “Mecca” that is Siem Reap, home of Angkor Wat; 200 temples only re-discovered in the last century, built by the Khmer Kingdom as long ago as the 12th Century.

As we travelled from the airport, row upon row (upon row upon row) of freshly built hotels, many very opulent, all trying to include “Angkor” somehow in their name; 2.8m tourists visited Siem Reap in 2011, this year it will be 4m, mainly Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese, Korean, but increasingly Western (& not just backpackers). To support this further, the government is investing in a new fully International Airport that can support long-haul flights. Yet travel beyond the central area, and you’re quickly in (very?) poor areas, beautiful villages which hark back to a long cultural history based on agriculture, but also city slum-like dwellings with a strong demarcation line to the polished centre with its curiously named “Pub Street”. As we entered the city, a hospital… with long queues of dancing children and their parents, waiting… free injections for TB and a range of other diseases.

As a westerner, you’re not allowed to drive in Siem Reap. What seemed like an affront, quickly made sense. Chaotic traffic, but slowly it emerged there was a code. Approaching a traffic junction - cars, buses, trucks, cycles, mopeds & the ubiquitous TukTuk’s – execute a strange, varied pattern, random, incoherent to the observer. Everyone enters at speed and asynchronously, from the left, right, wrong side of the road. The code wasn’t discernable, but somehow it was there; there was choreography, a dance… a further example of “co-operative driving”.

Words don’t do justice to the amazing wonder of the Angkor Wat complex, neither really do pictures. It was the scale of it; Stonehenge multiplied a trillion times. The complexity of changing dynasties following war after war; Hindu replacing Buddhist and swapping again, evidenced by the artwork and the deliberate defacement of it down the years as one religion or the other dominated. Today Cambodia is mainly Buddhist, but it feels more an acknowledgement than our  experience of it as being embedded and primal to the Lao culture. Strange to realise that the wonderfully delicate entrance gates, built for the King to ride through on his elephant, were the entrance for tanks in recent times, scraping their way against the intricate artwork on the walls, that landmines had to be cleared (some as recently as the last five years) from the inner courtyards, to observe the AK47 bullet holes & grenade craters… but these all merely add colour to an overwhelming assault on the senses from the Temples themselves.

We visited Ta Prohm, the jungle temple of Tomb Raider, Lara Croft & Angelina Jolie “fame”. We were stunned by Angkor Thom, and the magnificent Bayon, with its multitude of carved smiling faces. Angkor Wat left us breathless (literally, searing heat) with wonder at its architecture. Sunrise at Banteay Srei showed craftsmanship in its carving that left you wondering “how?” and finally the jungle temple Beng Melea, only recently re-opened after mine clearance.

Our guide, Maray, was refreshingly open, evidencing a British sense of sarcasm, & at times dry & black humour. Within minutes of meeting him, he was telling us of his country’s none-too-proud history. And over the hours we spent together, he shared parts of his story. Born in 1969, he was 5 when the Khmer Rouge seized power. He lost his Father at 5, & Mother at 8, both teachers so killed as part of Pol Pot’s re-education of the people; 3m lives lost in a “holocaust” repeat that the world labelled the “Killing Fields”. Maray didn’t talk about that time much more than to say that his “Step Father” was cruel, and he was 13 before he was able to start attending school. His dream was to become a Doctor, but he didn’t have the money… so he taught himself English and became a guide, one of the original 50 (there are now ~4500, many of which Maray has “trained” at his “guide school”). He told us stories of people he’d met, and took particular relish is directing me to the best locations & angles to take photos – former clients included  professional National Geographic photographers.

Maray grew up in Angkor and as a child used to play in & climb around the temples and fish in their lakes. His obvious passion for Angkor, its temples & their art seemed much more personal, often pointing out a particular place with a story about his childhood. He was also incredibly astute at noticing the small things, particularly nature: flowers, lizards, birds, a snake… as we explored the temples at dawn, he was the little boy again, calling out to the birds and delighting in their response. Following an arranged marriage (the custom here), he worked in partnership with his brother-in-law, but after a couple of years of supposed “crop failures” in sales at the market, he realised the profit-share partnership was far from equal. He now lives in a local village under his tin roof, with his family & his chickens, not quite following the economic advancement that many of his compatriots seemed to have done. His goal: to build a better life for his two “wonderful girls” – he showed us pictures of his daughters with obvious pride.

I found Maray inspiring; having faced a horrendous past, he is striving to move on and break the ties and repetitions from before. He exhibited that Buddhist sense of karma, and relaxing into it. I also sensed that Maray’s story is the story of modern Cambodia; rebuilding from & grieving a past, while trying to find honour, pride & dignity in a future.