Sun, Oct. 15, 2006
VISIT SOON BEFORE CROWDS TAKE OVER
By Anne Chalfant
MediaNews
Two things you need when exploring the ancient city of Angkor in Cambodia: First -- hire a quick-witted guide who can snake you in and out of temples without getting tangled with tour bus crowds.
Second -- find a swimming pool. Cambodia is one hot little country and even the most intrepid temple prowler will want to slide into cool water after poking around the tumbled ruins of these looming structures of the ancient Khmer empire.
The Angkor temple complex, once a fabulous city that thrived from 802 to 1295, is, well, complex. The history, the moats, the passageways, the bas reliefs, the confusion of Buddhism that changed to Hinduism -- it's all wondrous to see, and it's a headful of information. And though Angkor was what I had come to see, I found myself every bit as intrigued by the hotel swimming pool and the Cambodian people.
One superheated afternoon as my traveling buddy David and I lounged poolside reading our books at our hotel, Le Meridien, a Cambodian lad shyly approached.
This bar boy, nattily dressed in white jacket, had just delivered the sandwiches we ordered. Now he was returning to show us something -- a lotus flower balanced on his palm. He pointed inside, where lush pink waxy petals cupped a shimmering water droplet -- moisture its cool petals had coaxed from the steamy air. The bead of water shimmered like a jewel -- magnificent flower bling!
Yet it was the boy's gesture of showing us the flower -- his sweet way of wanting to share the beauty with us -- that enchanted me and typified my experience with many Cambodians.
I felt welcome from my first morning in town, a day before David's arrival, when I had walked along the riverfront, not knowing what to expect. I was surprised as people greeted me with a smile and "hello," even though I was an oddity -- the only Westerner walking past their modest homes.
I had the same experience in the hotel, where shy chambermaids smiled sweetly -- making me quickly feel at ease. And the pool -- actually a grouping of pools and lily ponds graced by Roman-looking columns -- was a friendly setting that just begged staking out a lounge chair and hopping into the water now and then for relief from the heat.
But we had also hired a guide and driver for two full days, so much of our time was spent touring the temples with our guide, Phalla Chan, whose knowledge was detailed and who was adept at dodging the crowds.
Our first sight of Angkor Wat was at dawn. We doubted our sanity as we stumbled into the hotel lounge at 4:30 a.m., but Chan and our driver were waiting for us.
And sunrise at the temple is not to be missed. A number of people were gathered quietly on the grounds, respecting the silence broken only by the hoo-hoo of a bird.
Clouds resembling a thousand magic carpets trailed above the wash of pink behind the dark pine cone-like towers of the temple. The sun had to climb a long way to rise above those towers. Finally, a pink flash winked over the top of one. And within minutes, as it climbed farther in the sky, the heat of the day started pressing around us.
Sunrises or sunsets are as close as visitors will get to a personal moment with Angkor Wat. Angkor Archaeological Park's temples have been designated a World Heritage site, and increasing numbers of tourists have found their way there since the opening in 1993. Anyone thinking the antiquities will afford a chance to commune with ancient spirits is likely to be disappointed. Tourism is on the fast track in Siem Reap, a town of 800,000. Hotel construction is going like gangbusters -- ranging from small Cambodian-owned inns to big chains. Sofitel, Raffles, Le Meridien and others are already in place.
Still, we never felt the crush of tourists in the two days with our guide. The trick, Chan said, was to explore the most popular temples at sunrise and at noon, when tour buses had departed.
We explored Angkor Wat for a few minutes after greeting the sun that day, then we made plans to return at noon once the tour buses pulled out.
But before jumping into our air-conditioned car to head for Angkor Thom, David and I were drawn to seek the drumming that had started at dawn near Angkor Wat. Chan was agreeable, so we followed the rhythm to a Buddhist temple, where birthday party preparations were under way for the temple's director.
Monks and others were sitting on the floor, carefully cutting bananas and delicately arranging small plates of rice and chicken and a plate of cigarettes -- all offerings to Buddha.
We were perfectly welcome to walk, sit and take pictures of their preparations, and no one stared or paid attention to us, except one boy, crouching on the temple steps, who was delighted to meet us and eager to talk, though he spoke no English. His name was Thy, he told us through our guide Chan, and he was 16 -- surprisingly small for his age. Cambodians are small people, and, like Thy, often have beautiful smiles.
Next we were off to Angkor Thom, or "Great City," thought to have housed a million people at one point after its construction during the years 1181-1220 by Buddhist King Jayavarman VII. The coldly smiling faces of Baylon in Angkor Thom leering down at you -- 54 Gothic columns with 216 giant carved visages -- is mildly unnerving, but still fascinating.
Our two days with Chan and our driver took in the odd sights at four temples -- such as the seven-headed, serpentlike Naga guarding the south gate of temple Pra Thom -- which would not seem to need much guarding with four carved giant Buddha faces making for a formidable gate.
At Angkor Wat, Chan showed us a small field that had been used as a killing field by the despot Pol Pot. Chan told us he had lost 29 relatives to the man who wreaked havoc on the kingdom of Cambodia in the 1970s and later. Chan spoke willingly on the subject, but then turned his talk back to the duties he takes so seriously -- showing us details of the temples.
We went on to see the Scenes of Heaven and Hell, a terrifying perspective of Judgment Day including hideous devils hauling sinners to hell. I silently wished Pol Pot, who executed 3 million of his nation's people, a permanent residence in the company of these devils.
Ta Prohm is a temple on everyone's list. Here you can encounter uncanny feelings as you climb over rubble of crushed and tumbling walls, where banyan tree trunks wind viperlike through the once-grand structure.
The jungle-strangled temple, discovered in the 1860s, was intentionally left this way, conveying the eeriness of the lost civilization. Ta Prohm was used in a scene for the movie "Lara Croft: Tomb Raider."
It's a safe bet that Cambodia's Angkor temples will continue to climb on the travelers' list of favorites; David and I both felt we needed to get there before there was a Starbucks outside the temple. And right now Siem Reap is still a relatively small town, with Cambodians eagerly learning to speak English and employing but a minimum of ways to snare your money.
We did encounter children selling postcards and trinkets. Although persistent, they were more fun than obnoxious.
"Buy my postcard, buy my postcard," said the girl in the Angkor Wat parking lot.
"Buy my scarf, buy my scarf," said another.
We tried to shoo them away with our "nos." But they didn't give up.
"Where you from?" persisted one girl, still seeking an entree.
"New York," David said, meaning the city.
"Albany!" the girl pronounced triumphantly, naming the New York state capital.
And I who hail from California got a cry of "Sacramento!" when I named my home. "No, San Francisco," I said, drawing a blank look from the child.
Yes, everyone is learning their textbook English in Siem Reap right now, and things will change here.
But the Cambodian people are generally warm, and the swimming pools cool -- so now's the time to visit.
VISIT SOON BEFORE CROWDS TAKE OVER
By Anne Chalfant
MediaNews
Two things you need when exploring the ancient city of Angkor in Cambodia: First -- hire a quick-witted guide who can snake you in and out of temples without getting tangled with tour bus crowds.
Second -- find a swimming pool. Cambodia is one hot little country and even the most intrepid temple prowler will want to slide into cool water after poking around the tumbled ruins of these looming structures of the ancient Khmer empire.
The Angkor temple complex, once a fabulous city that thrived from 802 to 1295, is, well, complex. The history, the moats, the passageways, the bas reliefs, the confusion of Buddhism that changed to Hinduism -- it's all wondrous to see, and it's a headful of information. And though Angkor was what I had come to see, I found myself every bit as intrigued by the hotel swimming pool and the Cambodian people.
One superheated afternoon as my traveling buddy David and I lounged poolside reading our books at our hotel, Le Meridien, a Cambodian lad shyly approached.
This bar boy, nattily dressed in white jacket, had just delivered the sandwiches we ordered. Now he was returning to show us something -- a lotus flower balanced on his palm. He pointed inside, where lush pink waxy petals cupped a shimmering water droplet -- moisture its cool petals had coaxed from the steamy air. The bead of water shimmered like a jewel -- magnificent flower bling!
Yet it was the boy's gesture of showing us the flower -- his sweet way of wanting to share the beauty with us -- that enchanted me and typified my experience with many Cambodians.
I felt welcome from my first morning in town, a day before David's arrival, when I had walked along the riverfront, not knowing what to expect. I was surprised as people greeted me with a smile and "hello," even though I was an oddity -- the only Westerner walking past their modest homes.
I had the same experience in the hotel, where shy chambermaids smiled sweetly -- making me quickly feel at ease. And the pool -- actually a grouping of pools and lily ponds graced by Roman-looking columns -- was a friendly setting that just begged staking out a lounge chair and hopping into the water now and then for relief from the heat.
But we had also hired a guide and driver for two full days, so much of our time was spent touring the temples with our guide, Phalla Chan, whose knowledge was detailed and who was adept at dodging the crowds.
Our first sight of Angkor Wat was at dawn. We doubted our sanity as we stumbled into the hotel lounge at 4:30 a.m., but Chan and our driver were waiting for us.
And sunrise at the temple is not to be missed. A number of people were gathered quietly on the grounds, respecting the silence broken only by the hoo-hoo of a bird.
Clouds resembling a thousand magic carpets trailed above the wash of pink behind the dark pine cone-like towers of the temple. The sun had to climb a long way to rise above those towers. Finally, a pink flash winked over the top of one. And within minutes, as it climbed farther in the sky, the heat of the day started pressing around us.
Sunrises or sunsets are as close as visitors will get to a personal moment with Angkor Wat. Angkor Archaeological Park's temples have been designated a World Heritage site, and increasing numbers of tourists have found their way there since the opening in 1993. Anyone thinking the antiquities will afford a chance to commune with ancient spirits is likely to be disappointed. Tourism is on the fast track in Siem Reap, a town of 800,000. Hotel construction is going like gangbusters -- ranging from small Cambodian-owned inns to big chains. Sofitel, Raffles, Le Meridien and others are already in place.
Still, we never felt the crush of tourists in the two days with our guide. The trick, Chan said, was to explore the most popular temples at sunrise and at noon, when tour buses had departed.
We explored Angkor Wat for a few minutes after greeting the sun that day, then we made plans to return at noon once the tour buses pulled out.
But before jumping into our air-conditioned car to head for Angkor Thom, David and I were drawn to seek the drumming that had started at dawn near Angkor Wat. Chan was agreeable, so we followed the rhythm to a Buddhist temple, where birthday party preparations were under way for the temple's director.
Monks and others were sitting on the floor, carefully cutting bananas and delicately arranging small plates of rice and chicken and a plate of cigarettes -- all offerings to Buddha.
We were perfectly welcome to walk, sit and take pictures of their preparations, and no one stared or paid attention to us, except one boy, crouching on the temple steps, who was delighted to meet us and eager to talk, though he spoke no English. His name was Thy, he told us through our guide Chan, and he was 16 -- surprisingly small for his age. Cambodians are small people, and, like Thy, often have beautiful smiles.
Next we were off to Angkor Thom, or "Great City," thought to have housed a million people at one point after its construction during the years 1181-1220 by Buddhist King Jayavarman VII. The coldly smiling faces of Baylon in Angkor Thom leering down at you -- 54 Gothic columns with 216 giant carved visages -- is mildly unnerving, but still fascinating.
Our two days with Chan and our driver took in the odd sights at four temples -- such as the seven-headed, serpentlike Naga guarding the south gate of temple Pra Thom -- which would not seem to need much guarding with four carved giant Buddha faces making for a formidable gate.
At Angkor Wat, Chan showed us a small field that had been used as a killing field by the despot Pol Pot. Chan told us he had lost 29 relatives to the man who wreaked havoc on the kingdom of Cambodia in the 1970s and later. Chan spoke willingly on the subject, but then turned his talk back to the duties he takes so seriously -- showing us details of the temples.
We went on to see the Scenes of Heaven and Hell, a terrifying perspective of Judgment Day including hideous devils hauling sinners to hell. I silently wished Pol Pot, who executed 3 million of his nation's people, a permanent residence in the company of these devils.
Ta Prohm is a temple on everyone's list. Here you can encounter uncanny feelings as you climb over rubble of crushed and tumbling walls, where banyan tree trunks wind viperlike through the once-grand structure.
The jungle-strangled temple, discovered in the 1860s, was intentionally left this way, conveying the eeriness of the lost civilization. Ta Prohm was used in a scene for the movie "Lara Croft: Tomb Raider."
It's a safe bet that Cambodia's Angkor temples will continue to climb on the travelers' list of favorites; David and I both felt we needed to get there before there was a Starbucks outside the temple. And right now Siem Reap is still a relatively small town, with Cambodians eagerly learning to speak English and employing but a minimum of ways to snare your money.
We did encounter children selling postcards and trinkets. Although persistent, they were more fun than obnoxious.
"Buy my postcard, buy my postcard," said the girl in the Angkor Wat parking lot.
"Buy my scarf, buy my scarf," said another.
We tried to shoo them away with our "nos." But they didn't give up.
"Where you from?" persisted one girl, still seeking an entree.
"New York," David said, meaning the city.
"Albany!" the girl pronounced triumphantly, naming the New York state capital.
And I who hail from California got a cry of "Sacramento!" when I named my home. "No, San Francisco," I said, drawing a blank look from the child.
Yes, everyone is learning their textbook English in Siem Reap right now, and things will change here.
But the Cambodian people are generally warm, and the swimming pools cool -- so now's the time to visit.
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