'I'll never get over Cambodia'

Many children expertly navigating bowls and pots approach tour boats to beg.

News Times Live (Danbury, Connecticut, USA)

Country a paradox of both riches and tragedy

"Why are we going to Cambodia?" I kept asking my husband, who had signed up for it as an extension to our China trip last fall.

"Because it's in the neighborhood," he would reply.

What a paradox is Cambodia. We stayed in the burgeoning city of Siem Reap and found a beautiful, tropical place, filled with warm, friendly, hospitable people.

It's also a place steeped in poverty, illiteracy, and memories of the terrors suffered under the Khmer Rouge some 30 years ago.

The women mostly stay home with their children or sell things in the markets. They outnumber men almost two to one, meaning the men may have several wives and many, many children -- all of them, near as I could tell, adorable.

It's hot and humid in Cambodia, and things move slowly -- the rivers, the people (except those on motor scooters), progress. The people are struggling against terrible odds to move into a more contemporary way of life and become a modern society attractive to tourists.

And they're succeeding. We did many interesting things beyond our usual sphere of activities, such as taking an ox-cart ride, going up in an air balloon, eating lotus roots, and happening upon a colorful Buddhist wedding celebration.

We saw monkeys, live pigs being taken to market on motor scooters, begging children paddling around in pots on a lake, homes with TVs and stereos but no refrigerators, and a monk smoking a cigarette. ("Oh, he'll be going to Hell," explained our guide carelessly.)

We spent a fascinating morning at a silk farm, where we saw the entire process from the field of mulberry trees, the feeding of the silkworms, and the caring for the cocoons, to the dying, spinning, and weaving, and finally (perhaps my favorite part) the gift shop.

Another day we visited a lake with an entire community, including shops, school, and church, floating on its surface. More than 5,000 people live there in houseboats, relocating as indicated by fishing consitions and seasonal flooding. One home even sported a pig lounging on an attached raft.

We were captivated by assorted ruins of ancient temples. The most famous one is Angkor Wat. This is a huge, sprawling structure, and you must climb some really ghastly, steep stairs if you want to see all of it.

I declined to do this, figuring I might possibly get up, but there was no way I would ever get down. Eventually I came upon a cool first-level niche full of other overweight elderly people awaiting their more ambitious companions.

It's taken me a long time to write about Cambodia, mostly because it had such a profound effect on me. Actually, it kind of broke my heart. You can't get away from the war and the awful legacy of the Khmer Rouge. So many who lived through it refer to the most appalling atrocities with horrifying casualness.

These wonderful, poor people. Most can't even afford to love their pet dogs; they know they may be forced by hunger to eat them. How wealthy Americans are -- we can love our pets!

Why go to Cambodia? Because the people have so much culture, beauty, history and tradition to share. Because it is a society rising from its ashes with pride and determination. Because it's a very real part of our world.

I'll never get over Cambodia -- I don't think I ever should.