much have transpired since my last entry, but my laziness has kept me inactive and unproductive in maintaining my blog. strangely though, i've written a lot more under other median (journal book) of my activities, thoughts, travels, and muses. i want to include "blog maintenance" in the upcoming 2007 resolutions (or at least by my birthday on dec 23rd). lets see if i can snap out of this writing funk!
By Phatry Derek Pan
Phnom Penh Post, Issue 15/18, Sept 8 - 20, 2006Spectacle of Arts
Twelve-year old Joy Rithy trotted barefoot for more than two kilometers from his Andong Jeng village to hear what the commotion was at the Phare Ponleu Selapak campus in Battambang. When he arrived at the sprawling arts complex, Rithy was awed by the spectacle before him.
"There is so much energy and excitement here," he said. "I did not expect to see so many students and so much Khmer art all in one place."
Battambang was recently the site of a week-long explosion of art demonstrations, musical performances, workshops, games, and dance.
The first arts retreat, Mohaosrop Selepak Khmer Amatak 2006, featured more than 310 master artists, students, visiting artists and observers - brought together by an alliance of arts organizations such as Cambodian Living Arts, Phare Ponleu Selapak, Epic Arts, Friends Economic Development Association, (FEDA) and US-based Watkinson School.
According to Phany Tum, 34, Country Manager of Cambodian Living Arts, the focus of Mohaosrop was "learning and sharing."
"At the opening day procession on August 24, students were on the edge of their seats as the thunder roared in the background," said Tum, an expatriate Khmer from Providence, Rhode Island. "Already, I could anticipate what awaited the students and masters. The event will be special."
There were four workshop sessions in 12 different art forms. The classes included traditional Khmer and Western arts, and ranged through wedding music, ritualistic funeral chanting known as smot, painting, street circus, Bassac opera, chapey dong veng or long-necked guitar, and even salsa dancing.
"These workshops were inspirational to participate in and observe," said *!#@on Verey, 31, who represented FEDA, a youth-centered organization that provides educational opportunities to rural residents.
"If you go on any bus trip in Cambodia, every kid sings. There is music in every child. And during the music workshop, young students were taking notes and asking question after question of the masters."
Sor Touch, 23, a Phare student in painting, echoes similar sentiments. "I attended the Bassac Theater workshop with very little knowledge of this traditional art. I came out of Master Norng Chock's workshop understanding the relationship between the placement of music and dance movements."
According to the Mohaosrop program booklet, Bassac Theater is a traditional Khmer form of theater that uses song and is among the most popular of all Cambodian theater forms. It is strongly influenced by Hy (Chinese Opera) and Kai Loeung (Vietnamese theater), which is evident in its scenery, costumes and makeup and also in the extremely physical and almost acrobatic acting techniques.
Besides the educational component of Mohaosrop, the seven-day program offered a rare opportunity for rural villagers to enjoy performances of many Khmer art forms. One crowd favorite was the Phare street circus and sbaek thom, a form of shadow puppetry that means, "large skin."
Ben Sokchea, 13, of Phnom Penh, was dazzled by Wat Bo's shadow theater troupe. 
"My eyes lit up from the burning fire behind the cloth stage," Sokchea said. "I was mesmerized by the detailed puppet pieces, rhythmic body movements and story of warfare."
The collective energy of the participants did not dissipate, and often lasted until the early hours. At the closing finale, students, masters and international guests performed non-stop.
According to event organizers, the objective of Mohaosrop 2006 was to create lasting memories for the participants, revive traditional Cambodian art forms and inspire contemporary artistic expression.
"If the arts die, so will the nation; today, it gives me strong hope that our beloved Cambodia has been reborn," said Kum Sinath, 63, of Siem Reap.
today marks my one year anniversary of my residency in phnom penh, cambodia.
a year in flash recapping highlights and low lights posted shortly. stay tuned.
Update!!! Visit Koma Baitong for pictures
By Phatry Derek Pan
Imagine 30-something sugar caned sipping perky university students, over 400 plus screaming, but obedient elementary kids, 1 charismatic teacher, and a Khmerican backpacker.
Now start falling in love with the beauty of the country's landscape of swaying palm trees, lime green naturally perfect trimmed grass, the light chocolate mighty Mekong, and the romantic mountains delicately tucked in the backdrop.
This is no fantasy scenario - instead a setting for my latest day adventure in Prey Veng province in southeastern Cambodia.
In prewar times, the province became known for its production in rubber - it’s most profitable product. In pre-Angkorian, the area was the seat of Ba Phnom, a religious and cultural site dating back to the 5th century at the time of the mysterious Funan civilization. But these days, very little tourists make the excursion to this sleepy province. And today, Sunday, June 18th, the area becomes site for much needed philanthropy work.
So with the personal invitation of co-organizer, Chak Sopheap, I joined in the programming - a joint effort by students of the University of Cambodia (UC) and Pannasastra University of Cambodia (PUC). The agenda inked a courtesy visit to a remote village school to donate supplies, plant some trees and spend time with the children.
The drive began in a nearly packed air-conditioned bus. At around 6:45 at the whip of sunrise, the bus left the campus of the University of Cambodia; 45 minutes off the itinerary. I was zombie-knocked out for much of the 2-hr trip; fighting insomnia and trying to enjoy my Sissamouth tracks.
"Mate eurh kom pleang (Please sky don't rain)," I murmur The Golden Voice's lyrics while staring off to the deep gray horizon.
Three quarters near our destination, the bus arrived at Neak Leung Ferry which crosses the milky Mekong. Around a dozen vehicles could fit this overused and abused ship. While loading, I purchased some sour mangoes in salt and hot pepper from krama covered ladies. I observed that many carried a large circular platter of maloo or Khmer tobacco; perhaps a regional staple product.
Fifteen minutes later, we resume back on National Route 1. We arrived at what we assumed our destination. "But where is the school and the children?" we asked in unity. Our driver stopped.
"Um, we cannot squeeze our bus in that narrow red dusty dirt road," said the middle-aged, baseball cap wearing driver.
"Sure we can," echo the students. "And its starting to sprinkle, we might as well try."
But we didn't.
And it was the smart choice under these adverse weather and road conditions. Besides, the walk shouldn't be that bad - only 3 kilometers nestled deep in the road was where the school was situated.
But sprinkle now turns to drizzle. With only a large krama at hand and my signature North Face bag, I joined the gang for the trot. I could not bear walking. My thin, rusty green colored kow a chaa (traditional Khmer pants) had already started to absorb the rain drops. My deep military green button up shirt, too, began to dampen. I lost patience after fifteen minutes and suggested Sopheap for us to hop on a motodop. Without reservation, she obliged.
The two of us arrived minutes later soaked to the bone. Oddly though, the area was spared from the downpour. Kids and adults stared while we walked in the school confines - smiling and waving their hands. "Soksabai oun, soksabai!"
To a siren megaphone, the program begins. A stalky and charming university professor takes host while lines of pencil straight schoolchildren arranged neatly takes attentive. The next 30 minutes was a series of class competitions and spotlighted performances.
A young man around the age of 12 takes the stage. He grabs the microphone - poised. In a country with a saturated music industry where "everybody sings," his voice gives me reason to believe that Khmers will never lose this natural talent. He "oohs and woos" the crowd with every single breath. Remember his name - Chet Sereymon of Prey Veng province - the real Khmer idol. The UC/PUC students and I donated as much riels we could after the boisterous ovation.
Next, a boy and girl from each class are picked randomly from the crowd. Based off each level, the host entertains the crowd with Khmer trivia.
"How do you spell such and such in Khmer," to more difficult, "What provinces touch the great lake of Tonle Sap?"
Srey sross, Chhoun Nareth, 22, of UC is hand picked to come on stage to advocate about health and beauty.
"It is important to take care of your health by being clean at all times. Wash your hands with soap, brush your teeth after every meal, and stay away from infected chicken because of the bird flu," said Nareth, who now has everybody's attention.
After the psa announcements, games and the motivational talk, the university students and I began distributing the donated school supplies. Over 400 students, in nicely packaged wrapping, received a couple notebooks, ruler, several pens and pencils, and stickers. The dozen or so teachers present received a big brown envelop gift package. The crowd is overjoyed with gratitude and smiles.
While the crowd disperses in groups to begin the tree planting ceremony, I took the opportunity to speak with the young singer. I gave him my name card and encourage that he contact me soon for a possible Phnom Penh Post story. I learned that he is fatherless because of the Khmer Rouge.
The majority of the kids have dissipated back to their homes at around 1 PM. My stomach begins to growl but a much harder down pour has soured the lunch plans. We had to wait for cover under a traditional Khmer stilted house for more than thirty minutes before the rain eased and our transportation to arrive. That ride became the most "dangerous ride of my life."
Why, you might ask? Just imagine 30 or so students crammed in a roofless pick-up truck with low railings on wet bumpy narrow dirt road under mad rain! For the twenty minutes, Sopheap, Nareth, and I clustered together along the bunch. Strategically, we jammed in the middle. We had to dodge tree branches by bending down in uncomfortable positions and at the same time, fight for stability with the momentum of the students who stood. Many times, I anticipated for the worst - that a domino reaction of students stumbling over each other causing serious injury. While several of the guys continue to laugh and joke around, I sure for one became extra focused. Maybe they had experience riding under these conditions. I really don’t know. Luckily, minus Bopha's jolt in the abdomen from Sopheap knee cap, everyone came out okay.
The drive back to Phnom Penh was smooth cruising once we got on National Route 1. But I was still foodless for almost a half day now. I was given a nom psalm chrouk by the locals as a snack, but couldn’t bear to eat it. I wanted something more wholesome like rice. We fought starvation until I arrived back in Phnom Penh at 3:30 to the scent of fried chicken at Lucky’s.
The author can be reached at info at phatrypan dot com or 016 665 779.
Copyright, Phatry Derek Pan, 2006.
Phnom Penh Post, Issue 15 / 12, June 16 - 29, 2006
By Phatry Derek Pan
By the time he was seven years old, everything peaceful about Hin Chamnan's young life had been shattered. He lost his mother to a heart attack and his father to alcohol addiction. With his parents gone, he soon lost sustenance, support and even the roof over his head.
Shortly after these tragedies, Chamnan lost his left eye.
"One day I was horsing around with the neighborhood kids, and some dirt got caught in my eye," Chamnan, now 26, told the Post. "I neglected to take care of it, and it became infected. When I consulted a doctor, it was too late. I had to have a lifesaving eye operation to remove my left pupil."
The next 11 years spent in Phnom Penh's public schools saw his life descend into self-destruction. He admits he was misguided and misdirected. Chamnan skipped classes regularly and ignored his schoolwork. He never graduated from Preah Sisowath high school.
"I dropped out of school and began running the streets of Boeung Kaplhaok with the local kids," said Chamnan, referring to the decrepit, poverty stricken neighborhood where he grew up.
"Most of my group would steal money from our parents and hustle - usually spending what we made towards marijuana and yama, liquor and prostitutes."
Boeung Kaplhaok, or Kaplhaok, is nestled in Chamkarmon District off of Sothearos Boulevard near the former Royal Phnom Penh Hotel. The Khmer word kaplhaok refers to a green, unscented plant usually found around dirty swamps.
At 21, Chamnan started to emerge from his self-imposed miasma.
With the help of Phnom Penh artist DJ Sope, Chamnan found an escape from the delinquent lifestyle that had plagued him throughout most of his adolescence.
Hul "DJ Sope" Sophoan has been a popular local musician for years. He is credited with being one of the first Cambodians to import American hip hop music to Cambodia, specifically in the form of bootlegged copies of famed Khmer-American rapper Prach Ly of Long Beach, California's Cambodian community.
The new music changed Chamnan's life, opening a door to catharsis and creativity. Soon he was roommates with DJ Sope and writing rap lyrics in Khmer. Chamnan now goes by the rap alias A Ping, or "spider" in Khmer.
"The [hip hop] music sounded unique and cool to me. And usually, the content talks about one's life, which is different from pop music and other genres," Chamnan said.
"When I was living under his roof, I was more exposed to the music. The music spoke to me. Hip hop is educational. It teaches one to change bad habits and look ahead towards the future."
Now, with one of Cambodia's first-ever Khmer-language rap albums completed, Chamnan is ready to express his experience and attitude to the many disadvantaged but determined Phnom Penh youths like him.
Sok Visal, 35, Arts Director of Bates Media, producer of Chamnan's album, said he had known him since around 1997.
"I used to see him at Sope's, hanging around and usually being unproductive," he said. "But I was impressed with his talent. And when we had the opportunity to work together at Bates, he shared his interests in rapping. I make beats, and I believed in him, so we decided to do something together just for fun."
Under Visal's direction, Chamnan's full-length album Life in Kaplhaok Pond is set for release in Phnom Penh in the next few weeks.
"I want people to understand my life in Kaplhaok - about my struggles," Chamnan said.
"I want to encourage people to find their sense of purpose in life, as I have found in music."
The author can be reached at info at phatrypan dot com or 016 665 779.
Copyright, Phatry Derek Pan, 2006.
By Phatry Derek Pan
Yabbing beyond the wee hours did not deter us busy bodies to wake up bright and early this Saturday morning. After all, it’s not everyday I get to visit the birthplace of the Angkor civilization – Cambodia’s most sacred mountain – Phnom Kulen. It is here in 802 on the peak of the mountain; King Jayavarman II proclaimed independence from Java, giving birth to modern-day Cambodia.
At the cry of the morning rooster, we speed raced out our old school Corolla and off our adventure began. Driving on nice paved road, we passed through the Angkor Archaeological Park where we noticed truckloads of waving teens smiling as they try to catch the attention of onlookers passing them. The kids would squirt water from their bottles as Tony and I could only make monkey faces and wave back in retaliation.
Less than an hour into our drive, we stopped off the national road to a traditional Khmer village. Because the road leads to Phnom Kulen, I can see how tourism has affected this once sleepy community. Our first step off the car, a flock of young kids rush to our direction. My krama wearing, Tony’s blinged out wardrobe, and a non-Khmer Susan; what more could we ask to attract attention?!?
The kids had a rainbow of kramas and flowers (out of some fruit shell) for sale. We had our breakfast there under a simple roof and bench set-up. For two thousand riels, we had a bowl of authentic nom banjok, a Khmer dish that consists of long thin white noodles with yellow curry like sauce on top. No, it’s not the Khmer version of spaghetti! I bought a couple kramas as I waved my good-byes to the beautiful smiling kids.
Smooth concrete now transform into red dusty dirt road. Peering in the distance is Phnom Kulen! Alas, we are nearing our destination. The spiral road leading to the foot of the mountain comes to a complete stop as we approach the entrance. Susan had to purchase a ticket for a whopping $20, whereas, us Khmericans, paid a thrifty 2000 riels (USD $0.50).
I anticipated traffic congestion, but did not expect it to such magnanimous magnitude! A thirty kilometer trip could easily be accomplished within 20 minutes, but not during Khmer New Year celebrations. In 56 modem like pace on a slim two way road, we lost patience half way up. Many locals have already started walking on foot; which served a faster medium than the four wheel machinery. We could not resist either.
I grabbed my backpack equipped with the essentials – a water bottle, camera, journal book, couple pens, krama, a swimming short and towel – and off in my Uncle Ho tire sandals trekking up to the peak.
In common Cambodian anarchy, thousands make the pilgrimage fighting the madness and confusion that engulfs the area. At the apex, locals would pay homage to a sacred temple where a large reclining Buddha structure resides. Vendors lined the path selling atypical touristy items: jewelry made of precious bones and stones, BBQ baby monkeys, and other tidbits uncommon at the temple confines of Angkor. Instead, I restocked up with water and changed for Khmer riels of 100. I am not going to make the mistake of donating dollars at every temple spot, it adds up fast!
I reached the top after climbing a long series of cemented stairs. First thing after taking off my sandals, I washed my face using sacred water that spewed from a well. It was ice chilled. Barefooted, I walked in crammed space to light incense and make money donations to various shrines and monks. One of the many attractions was a large snake that young kids petted. Naturally scared, I built the courage to touch the reptilian. (This new found strength might be due to my previous Sihanoukville trip where I had cobra blood whisky concoction and cobra meat soup). I did not have the patience, however, to walk up the stairs to the sacred temple because of the traffic. My view at the present was unbearable to imagine.
So we left the area and took a comfortable walking cruise along the river. Our goal was to head towards the waterfall for a swim before we have our late lunch. It was already 2 PM; the crowd was still growing by the second.
Clustered together are groups of families situated all along the stream where sets a tarpaulin mat and a cooler with food and beverages for picnicking. Young kids and adults could be seen running around and playing in ice cool shallow water. We continued strutting through the madness; extra attentive to our friends. We did not want to get separated and lost. About 25 minutes later, we found our bungalow where we took a breather and laid our belongings.
I changed into my swimming trunks by using a room rented for 500 riels (USD $0.12). Susan, Tony and I left the bungalow and walked down a long series of wooden stairs. It was quite a descent and a challenge due to its slippery nature. I could hear the water roaring louder and louder but the thick marshy greenery added to the climax before finally reaching the foot. There it was – the majestic Phnom Kulen waterfalls!
I can’t swim and for much of my life, been terrified of water beyond the chest level. But fortunately, the large pond area where hundreds of kids and a few dozen adults dipped in to, the water level was only around my hips. Regardless though, I was a bit weary walking inside.
Tony and I courageously climbed over a dozen of overgrown pebbles to get closer to the velocity of the raging falls. Photographers flock taking souvenir pictures of us re-enacting fighting scenes depicted on the walls of Angkor. With hanuman style poses characterized by its arching juxtaposition, kids naturally jump to look in our direction. Twenty snapshots later, the two of us meditated in Buddha style fashion under the waterfall, focusing and filtering out every sound. A tough challenge, I might add.
My once indestructible tire sandals gave up as the right shoe snapped while walking up towards our bungalow. We ordered a late lunch at around 4 PM that consisted of a BBQ chicken with thinly sliced sour mango and fish sauce, deep fried battered squid, beef skewers, spicy papaya salad, and an array of fresh vegetables. It was finger licking delicious!
At this time, pretty much of the crowd had dissipated. Young scavengers in their large empty rice bags have already begun searching for coconut shells and used bottle waters to resale. We finished our meal, called our driver just in time before sunset had befallen. We snapped a couple group pictures with the remaining amount of 100 riels found in the crevices of our pockets. I bargained last minute for a Buddha necklace made out of white stone or bone. Our day adventure had come to a relaxing conclusion and off we cruised back to Siem Reap city.
This was my first trip to Phnom Kulen and surely a memorable one to add to the rich collection of travel adventures in Cambodia.
The author can be reached at info at phatrypan dot com or 016 665 779.
Copyright, Phatry Derek Pan, 2006.
Phnom Penh Post, Issue 15 / 10, May 19 - June 1, 2006
By Phatry Derek Pan
Don't tell wiz-kid Dy Kuchsa that Cambodia's young scholars aren't ready for international competition.
The 16-year-old Phnom Penh resident has just returned from the International Junior Science Olympiad (IJSO) in Indonesia with Cambodia's lone gold medal - its first at the prestigious annual event.
"My family is poor. My country is poor. But never underestimate the ability of our people, especially the students," Dy told the Post at his parents' one-bedroom home near the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum.
The IJSO featured grueling competition between 200 of the brainiest students from 36 countries including England, Russia, Thailand and Taiwan. Two separate committees evaluated each student's knowledge in the fields of physics, biology and chemistry through three rounds of testing.
The exhausting three-day examination featured a rigorous three-hour multiple-choice test, a writing analysis and a laboratory experiment on water absorption performed before a live audience. Dy scored a total of 79.75 points out of 100 possible and received one of only 20 gold medals awarded.
Fame has followed. Since winning the prestigious prize, Dy has been interviewed by Phnom Penh radio stations, featured in newspapers and has made several appearances on TV.
According to postings on the most-visited Khmer web site, Khmer Connection, dozens of Cambodians have stepped forward to praise the efforts of Dy and the other local students who competed in IJSO. Some overseas Cambodians are talking about establishing a foundation to support gifted students in their pursuit of education in Cambodia and abroad.
"Undoubtedly, we are proud of Dy's and the others' accomplishment at IJSO," said Puthearorth Kov, 24, a graduate student at the University of Washington's College of Education in Seattle. "Though early in the stage of dialogue, some of my colleagues have started brainstorming ideas on what to do next. Ideally, we want to foster their educational needs, even if that means bringing them to study in the US or elsewhere."
Though his family is overjoyed with Dy's achievements, and the prospect of support from overseas, Dy's father still lectures him about maintaining a strict studying regime.
"I do this to all my five kids, not just Kuchsa," said Dy San Thlang, 50. "Every day, I limit their television habits. They usually study for three to four hours after school, then read English, French and Khmer literature and do their homework. In their free time, I urge them to spend it wisely and productively."
Dy is now cramming hard for Cambodia's annual National Science Competition for incoming high school seniors.
"I am in the tenth grade, so I have over a year and a half to prepare myself for the competition - I can't stop now," Dy said.
"If I had the opportunity to study abroad, I would select Japan out of all the countries in the world simply because the country is so technologically advanced. When I grow up, I want to be an engineer."
By Phatry Derek Pan
One may argue that Angkor is best experienced through an air-conditioned car or bus. Another might rebuttal, sincere that by mode of a speeding motorcyle or tuk tuk is the way to go. And the lavish spenders would drop their two riels with the argument of a hot air balloon ride overlooking the majestic temples. But in my opinion, neither options leave an everlasting experience more memorable than the simplicity of a bicycle.
Seven in the morning signaled our start for Friday, the official start of the three-day new year festivities. Susan and Tony, in their motorized tuk tuk, dropped me off at Orchidae Guesthouse where I rented my cheap $1.50 per day ol' skool Schwinn.
"Peace and sayonara," I screamed towards the two and off I peddled towards the Angkor Archealogical Park.
Thirty minutes have now eclipsed before arriving at the entrance. Susan had to stop and purchase day passes -- $15 per day (I think).
"K'yom jea koun Khmer," I smiled proudly in response while passing uniform staffs that guarded the entrance.
The long paved road leading to the first turn before seeing the first peak of the Angkor towers seemed endless under the blistering sun. At the foot, one can see the humongous moat that surrounds the complex. In ancient times, crocodiles were strategically placed in these waters to fend off intruders. Today, young kids are more commonly found swimming inside.
"Oh, magical Angkor! Our people will rise again because of the perfection you have inspired us everyday!" Time and space at a standstill as I gaze out in the distance…
…
We stop to enjoy a bowl of Khmer noodles (ka-tiev) at one of the many food stalls paralled to Angkor Wat. With food and morning coffee in my system, I was ready to resume my adventure.
As I parked my bicycle to walk on the steps leading to the center of Angkor Wat, Steffen and Emilia appears out of nowhere among thousands that have now mushroomed the complex.
"Are you guys ready for the ride of your life?" I asked the two. Both smiled to the challenge and off we left from Angkor Wat to begin the long journey that awaited us.
I lead the team in the opposite direction of the 25+ kilometer trip. This route proved best as I rightfully anticipated less traffic and people.
About 10-minutes into the ride, we stopped to observe two girls encounter with the local monkeys. The sweet corn that they had in their plastic bag triggered two small adorable macabe monkey's attention and appetite. What started as an innoncent observation ended with an uneasy weariness as the monkeys aggressively tried to "attack" the couple. The girls smartly threw the corn off into the woods and we all jetted the scene in our bicyles and motorcyles! We laughed it off.
We're now off the paved road and onto the dusty red dirt path. Here, I lead them to one of the entrance gates of Angkor Wat that looms out in the far distance. Many snapshot flickers and gallons of water consumed to catch our breaths before we resume.
Prasat Kravan, characterized with its red laterite stone passes our trail as we are now on concrete road. Many kilometers later, we find parking to Banteay Kdey temple.
This pedestrian friendly temple is strikingly similar to Preah Khan with its long symetrical layout. Disabled and limbless mine victims play traditional music and groups of choir boys with decorated banana leaves crowns entertain tourists and locals as they walk their way to the main complex. I snapped some photos of the kids and donated 1000 riels to each before proceeding.
It took us about 30-minutes before leaving the complex to the adjacent Srass Srong. In ancient times, the king would meditate on the elevated platform overlooking the large reservoir. We did not meditate, instead, we mesmerized our eyes at a group of kids enjoying a nice swim inside the warm waters while waiting for our fresh sugarcane drink. Nothing beats a refreshing cold sweet sugarcane on a typical April day in Cambodia.
I extended my stay in the area to chit chat with loyal vendors who I made friends in previous trips.
"Oun, do you remember bong?" I asked several familiar faces who fight for our attention to buy their products.
"Jaa, of course, I remember. Last time, you came with three barangs (foreigners) from the States," rightfully, the kids answer. This was months back when friends from Washington state visited. We left the area after purchasing several traditional Khmer pajama-like pants called "kao a-jaa."
Our next stop came at Ta Prohm, the famous complex known for its larger than life trees that devours out the crevices of the temple walls. My two Swedish friends were amazed at the spectacle -- a strange natural phenomenon only concurable with our own eyes. I tried to find the temple caretaker, an elderly man made famous after the front cover cameo of Lonely Planet 2004 edition. I was told by a guard that he suffered an illness and have been recovering. Our priviledge bellies were growling again.
We had a simple yet tasty, but overpriced stir-fried noodles at the entrance of Ta Prohm. Exhausted and satisfied, we rested under the shaded vendor stall for 30-minutes to enjoy our meal before resuming our trip.
At this point of the bicycle trek, we have acculumated at least 15 frequent peddler mileages and about two-thirds complete of the 360 revolution. The other major temples we explored before leading up to our final stop of Bayon were Ta Keo, Baphuon, Vimean Akas, The Elephant Terraces and The Leper King.
The last four temples in the previous series are clustered together. We had an adventure going through almost impossible tracks with our bikes. Many times, we had to carry it up endless stone stair steps, low level gate entrances, and oversized pebbles that made our maneuvering difficult.
Bayon ranks on the top five most visited temples in the Angkor region. The others, in my view, are Angkor Wat, Ta Prohm, Banteay Srey and Phnom Bakheng. As usual, we had to fight the overcrowdedness with other international tourists from virtually every language imaginable. The smiles of the four face Bayons are all unique -- and all fight for the right position to take a picture in front of the most "fullest" smile face on the top level. I also sat through a round of fortune telling by a local wise man. Here, two girls, crowded by spectators like myself surround to easedrop in the conversation. The langauge used was too advance for me so I cannot recall what the lok ta said.
Completely exhausted, our bodies ached after we arrived in front of Angkor Wat, completing our 360 revolution. By now, we have accumulated around 25 miles of peddling. We took a very lazy stroll back to our separate hotels to rest before contemplating our evening plans.
Initially, we had plans to catch the sunset on top of Phnom Bakheng, a must visit for all tourists. Here, on the highest natural point in Angkor, thousands make the pilgrimage to catch a glimpse of Angkor Wat, surrounding temples and the main attraction -- the postcard snaps of the sunset. As many readers might recall, my first experience at Bakheng in early September 2005, the crowd gave a standing ovation. Foolish as it may seems to skip such opportunity, we enjoyed a relaxing night at the Cambodian Cultural Village (CCV) instead.
The CCV is the closest equivalent to America's Disneyland. It's an amusement park but with no rides. Instead, in this mega-size complex are re-creation of the diverse communities of the country. For example, the Chinese-style temples, hilltribes of the Pnorng, fisherman quarter -- around 15 in total. In each of these communities, visitors will be entertained by CCV's talented group of young artists -- as they dance, sing, and act. Cambodia's Halloween (Pachum Ben) holiday, I glued myself watching a beautiful horror show -- Khmer style. But today's visit was on the occasion of the New Year, so the performance reflected the festive fholiday.
CCV is a popular spot among the middle to upper echelon of society on any weekend, but today's visit was beyond my anticipation! The road leading to the park dots with tons of magnificent pieces of architecture, as new high rise hotels emblazes the overcongested road. The scene was in casual chaos when we arrived.
For Khmers, entrance fees are a cheap 5000 riels (USD $1.25), whereas foreigners, a well-worth the price tag of $7.50 (I think). Of course, all of us aneakajun (expat Khmers) talked in getting the Khmer rate. My two Swedish friends and I thought they got away, but once we walked through the gated fence, they refuse their entrance. They reverted to purchasing a non-Khmer tickets. It was worth a try, right?
Once inside, we visited two Museums. One has artifacts, paintings, and other props glorifying the Angkor time period. On the wall, a beautiful larger than life painting depicts an epic battle with the Cham people. The adjacent building houses a wax museum that spotlights Khmer icons ranging from the King and Queen of Khmer music, Sin Sissamouth and Ros Sereysothear to King Ang Duong, respectively.
Several thousands converged to the village scene to watch a live performance under the full moon. Congested and sticky because of the humid weather, all of us fight for position to catch a glimpse of the stage.
It's around 9pm now. Exhausted from walking and sightseeing, it was time for dinner. Today's choice: The Soup Dragon, which specializes in Vietnamese and Khmer cuisine found on the far west end of Bar Street. As usual, Tony ordered on behalf of the group. Our dessert was an unlisted treat created by Tony -- three deep fried bananas dipped in flour topped with two scoops of vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup with one luscious red cherry. Satisfied, we left to our hotels and guesthouses at around 11pm.
That night, the three of us (Tony, Suko and I) stayed up talking out in the garden until the wee hours of morning. At 3:30 am, we called it a night.
Day III teaser ... The Pilgrimage to the sacred Phnom Kulen
By Phatry Derek Pan
At just 26 years old, Nath Keo had developed a case of ennui. Despite a successful multi-faceted career as a belly dancer, pop singer and occasional author of mystery thrillers, Keo was decidedly discontented.
Plagued by what he described as an "empty void inside," Keo, a Khmer-Canadian performance artist recently returned to Cambodia, turned his back on dancing, singing and scribing, and has taken action to address his spiritual needs.
"I have vowed to be a monk for at least one full year," Keo said. "It is the right thing to do at this stage of my life."
According to industry reports, Keo's Khmer-language pop album S'gath S'gath, or Keep Quiet, has been successful and earned the top spot in Root's Canada East Asia's World Music category.
As incongruous as it may seem, Keo told the Post that trading Canadian stadiums for Buddhist chants at Wat Tuol Towng in Banteay Chakrey, Prey Veng province, was a natural step.
"My father spent many years during his youth at Wat Tuol Towng," Keo said. "Much of my reason for committing to the monastery was to pay respect to my parents."
Born in Kav Lan refugee camp on the Cambodian-Thai border, Keo left Cambodia and has been living as an aneakajun - the Khmer word denoting an expatriate Khmer - in Canada ever since.
Some observers report that the term aneakajun has negative connotations in Cambodia. According to the stereotype, an aneakajun lacks understanding of their cultural heritage - specifically the ancient traditions of Buddhism.
"Many Khmer children abroad forget about our religious heritage," Keo said. "But it's harsh to say Khmer children raised abroad do not understand their own culture."
When Buddhism is removed from daily routine, children do not grow up with an instinctive understanding of their religious heritage, Keo said.
"Look at the practice of moving into a new home," he said. "In Victoria, we throw a party, we don't invite monks to give chants and blessings as is the case here in Cambodia. Buddhism is not visible in most Khmer-populated communities."
Although this means many young expatriate Khmers are unfamiliar with the rituals and practices of their native culture, Keo - seemingly drawing on Buddhist philosophy - suggests such aneakajun "have been chosen to be ignorant."
Keo's choice to immerse himself in his religious heritage was not a career-oriented decision. But he does hope to write his second book about his experiences as a monk.
His first book entitled, Bada, a fictional mystery thriller released in Canada in December 2005, had a first print run of 3,000.
Most of Keo's current responsibilities - teaching English to young monks and fundraising work for the pagodas - present few problems. But the mammoth task of learning the Buddhist rules and verses has proved more difficult.
"I may be thin but I eat a lot," Keo said. "In Buddhism, we cannot consume anything after noon apart from water. This rule, one of around 227 in total, is the hardest to abide."
Phnom Penh Post, Issue 15 / 09, May 5 - 18, 2006
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