Don't Stop Me Now

Siem Reap, Cambodia -> Bangkok, Thailand, 8/7/11 - 8/8/11

I've only spent four days in Cambodia and the country is refusing to let me leave. Maybe it's because Cambdoia doesn't want me to share the secrets of its potent Amok curry with the rest of the world. Maybe the gregarious locals have so much more of their country they still have yet to share. Many the mythological faces of Banyon have cast a spell over me, turning me into immobile stone as they have been for centuries. Whatever the reason, I can't seem to break free.

Earlier in the day, I spoke to my hotel concierge and booked the 2am overnight bus from Siem Reap, Cambodia to Bangkok, Thailand. The plan was to arrive in the Thai capital by early the following morning. And since the OK Villas Hotel is among the nicest establishments I've stayed in to date, I'm confident that the staff will arrange everything without a hitch.

After saying a final goodbye to Amit, Louise, Elaine, Jen, and Chris (collectively my travel partners for nearly all of Vietnam and Laos), I arrive back at the hotel around 1:15am. I quickly strike up a rapport with three Irish lasses who will be joining me on the long journey. As usual, the transportation arrives significantly late, slightly past 3am. I guess I should've known better and stayed at the bar longer. The girls are quickly ushered onto a minivan for transport to the coach, but my ticket has not been confirmed and the driver refuses my entrance. "And your ticket is not even the correct one," the driver says, odd considering all four of us booked the identical bus at the same hotel concierge. Maybe it's the fact that we're all tired and somewhat inebriated, but I swear the three Irish ladies keep looking back at me as they get loaded into the minivan, eyes longing for our reunion, which may never come. Sunday, bloody Sunday, indeed.

Despite the fact that I urged the hotel staff multiple times to make sure my arrangements were set, they never bothered to call to confirm my ticket. And they somehow managed to give me the wrong ticket to boot. I've seen better, more intelligent service at an ATM. As it's the middle of the night, the entire hotel staff is sleeping and after the minivan shuttle takes off, I quickly sprint around the grounds, searching for staff to wake up. I find one lone yawning security guard and frantically explain my problem, flashing the incorrect and unconfirmed ticket. His job profile is not typically dealing with frantic tourist emergencies and he shrugs his shoulders, his expression telecasting, "I wish this small, high-pitched, nasal, bearded fellow had not found me." I am now causing a scene, but I have no qualms, as if I need to wait to take a typical morning bus (around 10am), my whole final day in Southeast Asia will be bust. Several tuk-tuk drivers fly by, noticing my hysterics, and get out to offer assistance. Eventually a motley crew of two tuk-tuk drivers and the security guard reach hold of the bus company and explain the dilemma. Even though half an hour has passed, the actual bus still hasn't left yet, so I guess I need to be grateful that I'm on Southeast Asian time. Once the issue is resolved, I get picked up by the same minivan shuttle and brought to the bus station. As I have the incorrect, unconfirmed ticket, the station manager informs me I will be sitting adjacent to the driver, essentially on the steps of the coach bus, for ten hours. Luckily, when the bus finally arrives at 4am, only two hours late, it is underbooked and I have a proper seat to myself with a blanket and pillow. Or maybe it seems undersold because I rush on ahead the group and grab hold of the first seat I can find.

I know breaking up is hard to do, Cambodia. I didn't want it to end so soon, either. I want to eat more of your delectable fish Amok, walk through more of the ruins of your ancient empires, learn about your staggering resilience from recent atrocities, and enjoy more pilsners with your friendly locals. I love you too, but don't stop me now.

An Interesting Menu

Siem Reap, Cambodia, 8/7/11

Let's review:

• No pork, so they're potentially going after the Jewish/Hindu/Buddhist/Muslim crowd
• "Grill Sexy Frog" is the house specialty. It must look like the below images. The risque amphibian is a steal at only $1.50
• "Red Snapper Cry" for $5. Is that supposed to be snapper "fry"? An abbreviation for snapper curry? One will never know. All I know is that I prefer my fish to be happy, not sad.
• In case neither of these options impress you, there is always the classic Cambodian entree of Spaghettis "Bolognaise" for $3

I'll Have the Plastic Shard

Siem Reap, Cambodia, 8/7/11

Our final meal together in Cambodia is at Amok, a restaurant named after, and celebrating, the country's national dish. After eating Cambodian BBQ yesterday at restaurant "Cambodia BBQ", it is clear that Siem Reap restaurants could use some creative employees on staff to come up with better names. Amok is located down a hidden alley right in the heart of town. The restaurant is comfortable and beautiful -- walls are painted in burnt orange and decorated with baroque wood carvings. The napkins, tablecloths, and rug are brightly colored with flashy prints. Place mats are made of dark-stained bamboo and the chairs are lavender with neon orange cushions. Plates are beautiful flower-printed blue and white porcelain that would be more at home in Santorini, Greene than Cambodia. Fat candles decorate all the windows and tables, making the Amok feel like a romantic, warm respite from the darkness of its alleyway home. Grammatically defunct signs on the menu remind tourists to "make your stay in Cambodia safe stay" due to filtered ice and "Western standards." The sign also shows the smiling "chef cook" confiding that he "also takes care of your health." 

From website

From Google

From Google

Everyone's favorite "chef cook"

It's late in the evening, so we have the restaurant mostly to ourselves and are dotted on my the solicitous staff. As with yesterday's meals, our group splits into duos, each ordering the degustation (expensive for Cambodia at $10/pp). The platter is even more ornate than at Angkor Palm -- each dish has a specially designed bowl either made out of banana leaf or bamboo, resembling flowers, boats, and petals. In the center of the seven-course platter is a banana leaf cone, a decorative touch to keep the curry below warm. First course is a banana blossom salad with roasted chicken. The blossom resembles emerald spaghetti but has a crunch like green papaya. Mixed with carrots, basil, and a lime vinaigrette, it's bright and refreshing. Second dish is also a salad with lightly poached local Cambodian river fish with long beans, onions, pine nuts, and chilis. Third is a chicken stir fry with whole leaves of basil, onions, peppers, and cashews. The restaurant eponymous dish is available is five different varieties (chicken, beef, pork, fish, tofu) and the menu proudly announces it to be "the best amok in Siem Reap." It is delicious -- hefty filets of catfish in a thick, herbaceous curry stew, with plenty of chilis, mint, basil, roasted onions, and coconut. The dish almost resembles an inverse fried egg - a bright yellow curry surrounding a small white dollop of coconut cream. Although I would give the award for best amok to Angkor Palm, one final taste is necessary before I leave the country as a meal in Cambodia without amok is like a day without sunshine.

One of the dishes of the evening is found to feature a large, sharp piece of plastic. The wait staff is apoplectic over the sight of the foreign material and our pints of Angkor beers are quickly joined by gratis watermelon martinis. As the night wears down, the "chef cook" comes to our table to check on our meal.  His chef's whites and matching hat are basically spotless although it's after 10pm, proving him to be quite a meticulous kitchen overload. He comes bearing a large smile and a large dish of fried bananas with a honey dipping sauce, a dessert he says he is perfecting for the menu. As with all the banana desserts I've eaten around Southeast Asia, they are terrifically juicy and sweet, not even needing the honey sauce. The bananas are followed by a sorbet sampler, with five different flavors served in shot glasses, small pieces of fruit used for identification. The platter includes pineapple, lime, mango, passionfruit, and coconut. We spend the rest of the evening exploring downtown Siem Reap, visiting the terrific night market which takes cement and fish food bags and turns them into bohemian accessories, and closing the night with ice cold pints Angkor Beer drafts.

Psar Chaa district, downtown Siem Reap

Angkor Babies, Day II: Legends of the Hidden Temple

Siem Reap, Cambodia, 8/7/11

The skies are becoming an ominously dark as more and more clouds gather together. Although they were vividly blue this morning, they are now dramatically darker, almost resembling mercury. The scene feels straight out of a classic Hitchcock film, the calm before an attack by four dozen violent birds or a lunatic transvestite with an Oedipus Complex. What's worse, 216 stone faces are staring down at me, eyes closed as if they are secretly plotting. Though the faces wear stoic expressions, the edges of their mouths are slightly upturned, making the stone creatures look slightly nefarious, as if they are hiding some recently committed mischief. The stone beings have oversized, pear-shaped noses, which immediately pick up on my presence upon entering their hallowed grounds. No matter where I turn the faces stare down at me, constantly judging.

For the second part of the afternoon, Amit, Louise, and I are visiting Angkor Thom, the first stop of which is the spectacular Banyon Temple. The complex was built in the late 12th Century by King Jayavarman VII as a Mahayana Buddhist shrine. The sandstone temple is centered around thirty-seven remaining towers (originally forty-nine), each with four faces carved directly into the north, south, east, and west sides. Some scholars believe the faces are of Jayavarman himself, constantly watching his servants. Others believe them to be the faces of Lokesvara, an enlightened Buddhist being, although neither theory has been proven. The stone beings are relatively identical from one tower to the next, most with closed eyes, crooked smiles, large flat noses, and bejeweled headdresses. The presence of the faces lends an energy to Banyon that even Angkor Wat's classical Khmer architecture lacks -- the grounds feel curiously alive. Especially as the weather dramatically changes from blue skies to shimmering silver cloud cover to raging thunderstorms within minutes of our entrance. Like Angkor Wat, Banyon is decorated with several friezes and bas-reliefs, encompassing nearly one mile in length, and incorporating over 11,000 figures.

Lean on me, when you're not strong, and I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on

Banyon is located in the center of Angkor Thom, a six square mile complex that literally means "Great City." King Jaryavarman VII built the city as the capital of his Khmer Empire in the late 12th Century. In its heyday, Angkor Thom had a population of over one million, at a time when London only was home to 50,000. Angkor Thom lies east of the Siem Reap River and like Angkor Wat is surrounded by a boat. There are four entrances into the ancient city, guarded with 60 ft. Banyon-style towers adorned with quad-faces. If the stone faces do not intimate enemies, the feral monkeys guarding the entrances certainly will. As with Angkor Wat and several other temples around Siem Reap, Thom's entrances are anointed with large causeways symbolizing good versus evil. On one side are 54 enlightened Buddhist gods, Devas, with the opposing side occupied by 54 evil Asuras. Both groups of deities hold giant nagas, the mythological serpent god, as if they are trying to harness his power.

Benevolent Buddhist gods, Devas, protecting the entrance of Angkor Thom

Baphuon is one of Angkor Thom's premiere temples which, like Angkor Wat, was designed to be a representation of the mythical Mt. Meru. The temple was constructed in the 11th Century by King Udayadityavarman II. During the mid-twentieth century, archaeologists completely took apart Baphuon to better understand the ancient Khmer Empire, only to have their research and progress destroyed by the Khmer Rouge. The temple was only recently restored, open to the public in 2008. A restored stone bridge, supported by hundreds of columns, leads to Baphuon's entrance. The Western face of the temple is fashioned into a large reclining Buddha, almost 200 ft. in length.

Path to Baphuon

Baphuon

Phimeanakas was the former royal palace of Angkor Thom, built at the end of the 10th Century by King Rajendravarman. Legend has it that the king spent every evening in the palace's northern tower with a woman he believed to be the human reincarnation of the naga, the mythical Buddhist serpent god. Not even the queen could disturbe this affair. It is said the relationship was mutually beneficial and had to be sustained for the prosperity of the kingdom -- if the the king didn't show for the nightly dalliances, the empire's land would be in danger (as the naga was a protector of the sea and the land); if the reincarnated naga didn't show, the king's death was imminent. As this extramarital affair seemed necessary to preserve the empire and health of all of its civilians, I guess the king came up with a good excuse. Philandering politicians should try using the naga excuse today when they are caught in Minneapolis airports. That said, given that the naga god embodies the form of a large snake, the king's affair danced a fine line with bestiality. The entrance to Phimenakas is known as the Terrace of the Elephants, a 350 meter long patio decorated with short-trunked elephants and female dancers, both of wear elaborate headdresses. The terrace was used as audience seating for grand public festivals and speeches. Khmer Empire citizens would sit beside the statues, watching the king's cavalcade pass, made up of horse-drawn chariots, warriors, elephants, and servants.

Phimeanakas

Angkor Babies, Day II: Angkor What?

Siem Reap, Cambodia, 8/7/11

"I was very young during the reign of the Khmer Rouge in the late 1970s. I remember one night my family was sitting down at the kitchen table enjoying dinner when we heard gunfire and explosions coming from outside. We immediately sought shelter in a small underground bunker, hidden through a trap door under the floor. Such shelters were quite common during the late 70s. My whole family huddled together in the cramped space as the roar of ammunition raced above us. We sat there preying the officials would not find us or destroy our house. Hours passed and the gunfire eventually ceased. We climbed back up to thankfully find our home fully intact. Our meal, however, suffered a much worse fate, as when we were underground our dog helped himself to quite a feast."  - Angkor Wat Guide, 8/7/11

This is just one story in what was one of the worst examples of genocide in recent history, killing nearly one third of the Cambodian population from 1975 - 1979. As our terrific guide at Angkor Wat recites the tale, his consistently affable manner turns ferociously serious and his expression becomes stoic. Although the harrowing anecdote presents the atrocities of the Khmer Rouge in an overly intimate manner, I am impressed how he ends the story on a bright and humorous note to which any dog lover can relate. That he can find humor during a period of nonstop brutality truly represents the strength and resilience of the Cambodian people. A community of strong, united, patriotic citizens despite the fact that their country was on the brink of complete destruction just three short decades ago.

***

It's our second and final day visiting the Temples of Angkor and we've saved the best for last. Our attempt to wake up for the sunrise at Angkor Wat proved futile but, due to the overcast weather, supposedly the sight left much to be desired. After the rudeness and general hostility of yesterday's tuk-tuk driver, we make sure today's is a more optimal choice. We get lucky with "Mr. Black," a tall, slightly oafish Siem Reap local who wears a wide grin, his smile almost extending to his eyes. Mr. Black is knowledgeable, genial, and laid back, a welcome change from yesterday. We grab a quick breakfast of pastries from a big red shop set along a strip mall composed exclusively of bakeries. No one speaks English but I still have success ordering fluffy cinnamon raisin danish with a slightly odd wheat-flavored green tea.

Angkor Wat, meaning "City Temple", is the world's largest religious site and one of the original Ancient Wonders of the World (although the youngest at a sprightly 900 years). The temple is Cambodia's premiere attraction, it's national symbol (found on the country's flag), and a triumph of Khmer ingenuity and architecture. Angkor Wat was designed to represent Mount Meru, the sacred mountain home to many Buddhist and Hindu deities, with five central towers representing the mountain's five summits. Angkor Wat is bordered by a large moat and the temple itself lies in the center of a island surrounded by dense trees. The temple grounds make up roughly 200 acres.

The complex was built in the 12th Century by King Suryavarman II and, although scholars estimate it would take 300 years to build today, the construction only roughly thirty-seven years to complete. Approximately 38,000 Cambodians worked on the construction plus 4,000 elephants. Angkor Wat's stone were found in a quarry at Mount Kulen, roughly twenty-five miles away from the site and transported down the SIem Reap River. The temple is predominantly composed of sandstone, almost all of which is carved into ornate bas-reliefs and friezes. One of the most landmark friezes is a scene of the Churning of the Sea of Milk, an epic good versus evil battle fought by Buddhist and Hindu gods as they battle to harvest the elixir of immortality from the sea. There are 1,796 devata carvings spread across the temple grounds. Devatas are sacred Buddhist female guardian angels and each deva in Angkor Wat has a different hairstyle and dress. Other reliefs depict giant tortoises, dragons, unicorns, griffins, elephants, and lavish dancer.

We explore the lavish grounds with our incredibly informative guide who not only possesses the encyclopedic knowledge of every frieze and pagoda, but has an uncanny knack for great photo opportunities. He is like a walking Natural History Museum. He points out bullet holes and grenade explosion craters from the Khmer Rouge's unsuccessful attempts to destroy the mighty temple during the late 1970s. The entire site is magical and, due to the low season, surprisingly quiet. We spend hours walking around, admiring the bas-reliefs and friezes, which are so precise they seem as if they were carved with needles, learning ancient Khmer mythologies. One section of the temple houses four small swimming pools laid out in a 2x2 grid. Suryavarman had a daily ritual of bathing in the pools and then retreating to the "echo chamber," a small stone room roughly the size of an airplane bathroom. The king would stand and pound on his chest with both hands, creating a reverberating echo that representing his sins and disease leaving his body. Amit, Louise, and I all connect with our inner royal by beating our chests, hearing our sins rush out of our bodies and echoing throughout the small chamber. Oddly the echo only works when you beat the center of your chest, other parts of the body or shouting do not work.

Angkor Wat entrance and moat

One of the many deva statues, each with different headdresses

Outside Angkor Wat with a naga

Boo, scaffolding

Lions guarding the temple

Drinking a fresh coconut with Angkor Wat looming behind

Seven-headed naga statue