The temple of Angkor Wat gives it name to the vastly bigger archeological park.(Susan Hegger/P-D)
Click here to hear and see more from Susan Hegger's Cambodia trip
04/01/2007
By Susan C. Hegger
ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH (Missouri, USA)
SIEM REAP, CAMBODIA — The traffic at the South Gate was hectic. Pedestrians clogged the narrow bridge as motor scooters veered in and out, coming close but always just missing a startled tourist or two. Cabs, buses and minivans maneuvered through the gawkers, most with awestruck looks on their faces and cameras slung around their necks. But whether on foot or on wheels, everyone moved to the side to let the lumbering elephant caravans through.
It was a typical morning at Angkor Wat, the ancient capital of the Khmer kings in modern-day Cambodia and reportedly the largest religious monument in the world.
From one glance at the South Gate, we knew we were entering someplace very special and important. Leading to the portal, on both sides of the road, was a line of stone figures, each one clasping the body of the Naga, a long serpent, holding it in their grasp for eternity. The gate itself was imposing and ornate, with four faces of the Buddha smiling down on all those who entered. As we passed through the gate, monkeys scampered among the stones.
The South Gate is a majestic sight, one that prompts a sudden gasp and then a whispered "ohmigod" when first seen. Yet even so, it couldn't quite prepare us for how vast and monumental Angkor Archeological Park is.
One very full day
For starters, it's far too big to be explored on foot, which explains all of the bicycles, cabs, motorbikes and even the elephants on the roads. It makes more sense to ride to each of the major complexes — and given the heat, it's definitely more pleasant. Comprising multiple structures, each of the major complexes is also much more expansive than I had imagined. The size and scope of the park underscored what an amazing place this must have been at its peak from the 9th to the 13th centuries. (While, in retrospect, two days would have been better, we did see in one very full day, without feeling rushed, the major sights of the South Gate, Bayon, Central Angkor Thom and Angkor Wat, which the park is often called.)
Once through the gate, our guide Sarin Soeum, more familiarly known as Kea, took us to what he later called his favorite spot — the temple of Bayon in what's called Central Angkor Thom. Actually, the word "temple" may be somewhat misleading; Bayon is an intricate complex of terraces, towers and galleries in which you could spend hours exploring, beginning with the bas reliefs depicting historical scenes on the exterior walls.
Bayon is his favorite, Kea said, because of all the stone images of a serene Buddha. Indeed, his face adorns all four sides of many of the towers, a nod to the four cardinal directions. (Some suggest that these Buddhas may resemble King Jayavarman VII, who built Bayon.) Indeed, from one particular vantage point, where we crammed into a narrow corner, we could photograph three radiant Buddhas in a row. But no matter where we looked, the stone faces were everywhere.
Just as remarkable was the fact that Bayon, as well as all the temples in this park, is still a living shrine to Buddha. Time and again, we'd enter an alcove or dark tower only to discover visitors praying while a monk tended a colorful altar crowded with burning candles, incense and other offerings to a saffron-robed Buddha.
If Bayon was Kea's favorite, I'd have to say that Ta Prohm, a sprawling, one-level monastery-temple complex, was mine. Where Bayon is out in the open, Ta Prohm is like a hidden and mysterious jewel. We reached it only after a short walk through the jungle. As we approached, it appeared sheltered by the surrounding jungle. We noticed hints of the red paint that once covered all the buildings.
What makes Ta Prohm magical, though, is the way the jungle has claimed it. The curling, curving roots of fig and silk-cotton trees seem to devour the walls; trees seem to sprout from some of the towers. It's a literally dazzling sight: nature and human creation fused, entwined in a symbiotic embrace. (Maybe that's why people — and I confess I was one of them — lined up at various choice spots for a picture of themselves framed by these enormous roots.)
The crown jewel of the park is, of course, the spectacular temple complex of Angkor Wat, which covers a square kilometer. Unfortunately, we came up to the temple from behind. That gave us a terrific sense of the immense size of the complex, but it robbed us of that first indelible, breath-taking impression. You know the one from countless photographs: Angkor Wat with its beehive-like towers at the end of a causeway. The million-dollar view finds the reflection of the temple shimmering in the reflecting pool.
We explored the wat or temple right after lunch, in the heat of the day but before the crowds for sunset swarmed the site. While the temple was originally built in the 12th century by King Suryavarman II in honor of the Hindu god Vishnu, it now houses dozens of Buddhas, said our guide Kea.
I could barely absorb it all: the walls of carvings, ranging from flowers to dancing celestial beings; the array of Buddhas, including a beautiful lying Buddha; the one shrine to Vishnu, with his many graceful arms; the elaborate architecture.
Heights and mosquitoes
I even conquered my fear of heights, temporarily at least, to climb the exceptionally steep, narrow steps to the temple's highest spot. I grabbed hold of the handrail, focused only on the step ahead and ascended. At the top, I looked out and gasped: How am I going to get down? I couldn't even see the steps I had so gingerly trod.
I postponed my panic to wander around. In one corner by a shrine to Buddha sat a group of five elderly Cambodians and a monk. They were burning incense, laughing and taking turns telling fortunes. It was a lovely scene, another reminder of the reverence in which this place is still held. Then it hit me: These people walked up those steps, and they're going to walk down. Both my triumph, and fear, were deflated.
That evening, the sky was so overcast that there wasn't a sunset to bathe Angkor Wat in a reddish glow. But we were content to sit by the water-filled moat, sip Cambodian wine, nibble on frogs' legs and watch the temple fade into darkness — at least until the mosquitoes took over.
shegger@post-dispatch.com | 314-340-8348
It was a typical morning at Angkor Wat, the ancient capital of the Khmer kings in modern-day Cambodia and reportedly the largest religious monument in the world.
From one glance at the South Gate, we knew we were entering someplace very special and important. Leading to the portal, on both sides of the road, was a line of stone figures, each one clasping the body of the Naga, a long serpent, holding it in their grasp for eternity. The gate itself was imposing and ornate, with four faces of the Buddha smiling down on all those who entered. As we passed through the gate, monkeys scampered among the stones.
The South Gate is a majestic sight, one that prompts a sudden gasp and then a whispered "ohmigod" when first seen. Yet even so, it couldn't quite prepare us for how vast and monumental Angkor Archeological Park is.
One very full day
For starters, it's far too big to be explored on foot, which explains all of the bicycles, cabs, motorbikes and even the elephants on the roads. It makes more sense to ride to each of the major complexes — and given the heat, it's definitely more pleasant. Comprising multiple structures, each of the major complexes is also much more expansive than I had imagined. The size and scope of the park underscored what an amazing place this must have been at its peak from the 9th to the 13th centuries. (While, in retrospect, two days would have been better, we did see in one very full day, without feeling rushed, the major sights of the South Gate, Bayon, Central Angkor Thom and Angkor Wat, which the park is often called.)
Once through the gate, our guide Sarin Soeum, more familiarly known as Kea, took us to what he later called his favorite spot — the temple of Bayon in what's called Central Angkor Thom. Actually, the word "temple" may be somewhat misleading; Bayon is an intricate complex of terraces, towers and galleries in which you could spend hours exploring, beginning with the bas reliefs depicting historical scenes on the exterior walls.
Bayon is his favorite, Kea said, because of all the stone images of a serene Buddha. Indeed, his face adorns all four sides of many of the towers, a nod to the four cardinal directions. (Some suggest that these Buddhas may resemble King Jayavarman VII, who built Bayon.) Indeed, from one particular vantage point, where we crammed into a narrow corner, we could photograph three radiant Buddhas in a row. But no matter where we looked, the stone faces were everywhere.
Just as remarkable was the fact that Bayon, as well as all the temples in this park, is still a living shrine to Buddha. Time and again, we'd enter an alcove or dark tower only to discover visitors praying while a monk tended a colorful altar crowded with burning candles, incense and other offerings to a saffron-robed Buddha.
If Bayon was Kea's favorite, I'd have to say that Ta Prohm, a sprawling, one-level monastery-temple complex, was mine. Where Bayon is out in the open, Ta Prohm is like a hidden and mysterious jewel. We reached it only after a short walk through the jungle. As we approached, it appeared sheltered by the surrounding jungle. We noticed hints of the red paint that once covered all the buildings.
What makes Ta Prohm magical, though, is the way the jungle has claimed it. The curling, curving roots of fig and silk-cotton trees seem to devour the walls; trees seem to sprout from some of the towers. It's a literally dazzling sight: nature and human creation fused, entwined in a symbiotic embrace. (Maybe that's why people — and I confess I was one of them — lined up at various choice spots for a picture of themselves framed by these enormous roots.)
The crown jewel of the park is, of course, the spectacular temple complex of Angkor Wat, which covers a square kilometer. Unfortunately, we came up to the temple from behind. That gave us a terrific sense of the immense size of the complex, but it robbed us of that first indelible, breath-taking impression. You know the one from countless photographs: Angkor Wat with its beehive-like towers at the end of a causeway. The million-dollar view finds the reflection of the temple shimmering in the reflecting pool.
We explored the wat or temple right after lunch, in the heat of the day but before the crowds for sunset swarmed the site. While the temple was originally built in the 12th century by King Suryavarman II in honor of the Hindu god Vishnu, it now houses dozens of Buddhas, said our guide Kea.
I could barely absorb it all: the walls of carvings, ranging from flowers to dancing celestial beings; the array of Buddhas, including a beautiful lying Buddha; the one shrine to Vishnu, with his many graceful arms; the elaborate architecture.
Heights and mosquitoes
I even conquered my fear of heights, temporarily at least, to climb the exceptionally steep, narrow steps to the temple's highest spot. I grabbed hold of the handrail, focused only on the step ahead and ascended. At the top, I looked out and gasped: How am I going to get down? I couldn't even see the steps I had so gingerly trod.
I postponed my panic to wander around. In one corner by a shrine to Buddha sat a group of five elderly Cambodians and a monk. They were burning incense, laughing and taking turns telling fortunes. It was a lovely scene, another reminder of the reverence in which this place is still held. Then it hit me: These people walked up those steps, and they're going to walk down. Both my triumph, and fear, were deflated.
That evening, the sky was so overcast that there wasn't a sunset to bathe Angkor Wat in a reddish glow. But we were content to sit by the water-filled moat, sip Cambodian wine, nibble on frogs' legs and watch the temple fade into darkness — at least until the mosquitoes took over.
shegger@post-dispatch.com | 314-340-8348
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