Photo-Op: Line of Beauty

The Vendome Press

DECEMBER 3, 2011
Barry Brukoff
The Wall Street Journal

In the late 1960s, Barry Brukoff began an ambitious project to photograph the ruins of the Khmer empire, which had flourished from the 9th to the 14th centuries among the monsoon-green forests and rice paddies of Cambodia. Though delayed by decades of war, he never lost his fascination with an art that prized order and harmony. 'Temples of Cambodia: The Heart of Angkor' (Vendome, 247 pages, $65) is a magnificent journey through the remnants of the least-known of the great world civilizations. Mr. Brukoff's photographs show the austere brick temples of the 7th and 8th centuries giving way to magnificently tiered 'temple mountains.' His studies of the Khmer's premier achievement, the 12th-century Angkor Wat complex, hint at its astonishing scale, frequently peeking out from a detail of one temple to capture other intricate structures behind. Yet Angkor Wat was just one part of the capital city—Angkor, with an estimated population of 750,000, would have been the world's largest city in the 1100s, and likely the most beautiful. Though they take ruins as their subject, Mr. Brukoff's images capture the most timeless elements of Khmer ingenuity. Choosing a perspective above that makes the colonnades of Bayon, another Angkor temple, seem endless, he shows the plan behind the beauty.

The Editors

Banteay Kdei and Ta Prohm temples flooded

The following are flood photos taken by Hang Savyout of RFA on 25 September 2011.

The gate to Banteay Kei temple was flooded on 25 September 2011, however, this did not deter some courageous visitors to the temple.

Tourists to Banteay Kdei temple

The eastern gate to Ta Prohm temple was a favorite spot fish catching for local villagers.

After a Chinese tourist fell into the flood water, other tourists are holding hands to cross the flood channel to visit Ta Prohm temple.

Eastern gate of Ta Prohm temple where water was still flowing on 25 September 2011.

City's thirst for groundwater threatens ancient temples

Angkor Wat ... two million tourists visit each year.

October 2, 2010
Ben Doherty
The Sydney Morning Herald

SIEM REAP, Cambodia: The five-star hotels around the ancient temples of Angkor are oases of green - sleek new buildings ringed by tropical forests and sprawling lawns.

But the water used to keep them so is being sucked from groundwater under the nearby city of Siem Reap, threatening the stability of the centuries-old World Heritage-listed landmark.

The widespread, unregulated pumping of groundwater throughout Siem Reap has raised concerns that the temples, including the world's largest religious monument, Angkor Wat, could crack or crumble if too much water is drained away.

The temples and towers of the 400-square-kilometre Angkor site sit on a base of sand, kept firm by a constant supply of groundwater that rises and falls with the seasons, but which is now being used to supply a burgeoning city.

With the number of visitors approaching 2 million a year, increasing pressure is being put on the scarce water resource. Thousands of illegal private pumps have been sunk across the city, pulling millions of litres of water from the ground each day.

UNESCO, the cultural arm of the United Nations, says that no one knows just how much water is being drawn from the ground, or how much can be taken safely.

Water is a precious commodity in Siem Reap, particularly during the dry season, when tourist numbers are highest. And the population of the city, barely five kilometres from Angkor Wat, has doubled in a little more than a decade to about 200,000.

The government-run Siem Reap water supply authority has the capacity to pump nine megalitres of water a day from underground, its director general, Som Kunthea, said.

But Mr Som estimates the city, even at its current size, is already using more than 50 megalitres daily. Authorities believe there are more than 6000 private pumps and 1000 wells sunk across the city.

The deputy director of water management for the Cambodian government's Angkor conservation body, Peou Hang, said the pumping was unregulated and almost impossible to police.

The Cambodian government has commissioned the Japanese government development agency JICA to investigate future water options for Siem Reap.

Its report, now in draft stage and to be completed by the end of the year, is likely to recommend regulating the pumping of groundwater as well as bringing water from other sources, including Tonle Sap, a lake 20 kilometres south of Siem Reap, an option that Mr Som would ''cost a lot and make water more expensive''.

Mr Som said the government's water authority does not have the capacity to supply all of Siem Reap with drinking water.

''Right now, there is no sign of impact on the temples,'' he said. ''But if we don't move now … if we keep letting people pump water and the population continues to increase, it will have an impact.''

Splendour of a magnificent past

Sunday, March 9, 2008
Deccan Herald (India)

The remains of the mighty Khmer empire are there for us to see at Angkor Wat in Cambodia, writes Vaasanthi

As I stand before the magnificent temples I can hardly think of the tumultuous history of the land on which they have been standing for centuries. As if mocking history, they are a reminder of a past splendour that also speaks of what must have been an unrivalled empire spanning across South East Asia. Forgotten to the world for centuries, hidden behind the steaming jungles of Cambodia, rediscovered in the 19th century by diligent French explorers, the thousand-year-old stunning religious monuments of Angkor Wat stand as a testimony to human aspirations and imagination.

From Bangkok in Thailand, it is an hour’s flight to Siem Reap the nearest town to the fabled temples of Angkor in Cambodia. Siem Reap, a little more than a village before, is now undoubtedly Cambodia’s fastest-growing town.

It seems to have undergone a metamorphosis ever since the miraculous discovery of the temples. The past decade has seen its rapid growth from a sluggish impoverished village to a booming tourism spot. It is brimming with tourists from all round the world and quickly reinventing itself as a sophisticated centre for the new wave of visitors passing through each year. There are 100 hotels and thousand guesthouses and the number is going up every month; restaurants and bars every week.

It is still a small town with all the charm that goes with small towns. Thanks to tourism development the roads are good and the streets clean and oh, the people from old to the young and the very young always smiling and friendly. Who can say that this has been a land ravaged mercilessly in recent history by war and crime? They seem to have put their lives of recent past of terror and trauma behind to revel in the memory of a glorious past, which now remains a source of inspiration and national pride.

Contemporary Cambodia is the successor state to the mighty Khmer empire which during the Angkor period (9th to 15th centuries) ruled much of what is now Laos, Thailand and Vietnam. The remains of the empire are there for us to see at Angkor Wat, the ultimate of Khmer genius, described by travel brochures as ‘unrivalled in scale and grandeur in Southeast Asia’.

Tough times
The first glimpse of Angkor Wat is indeed staggering especially if you remember what Cambodia has gone through. Things were good in the past, culminating in the vast Angkor empire, unrivalled in the region during four centuries of dominance. Then the bad set in, from the 13th centuries neighbours steadily chipped off chunks of its territory. In the twentieth century it went downright ugly, as a bloody civil war lead to the brutal rule of the Khmer Rouge (1975-79) from which Cambodia is still recovering.

But meet the man in the street, you will hardly see any rancour towards the evil done. Cambodians have weathered through poverty, bloodshed and political chaos but their smiles have not faded. The tourists that throng and rush to the temple campus in the wee hours of the morning to catch the magnificent view of Angkor Wat at the first light of dawn are not bothered either. Their main worry is the overcast sky that threatens to break into a pouring rain.

As the sun slowly lights up the sky Angkor Wat turns into an ethereal golden hue with its reflection weaving magic in the lily pond. It is like divine inspiration. And yet it is the work of human hands that toiled to create such divinity out of sand stone. It takes some time to see how big the temple complex is.

Angkor’s monuments are spread throughout a huge forest. Heading north from Siem Reap, you first come to Angkor Wat, then the walled city of Angkor Thom to the east and west of this city are two vast reservoirs which helped to feed the Angkor Thom population. Further east are the temples of Ta Prohm and Pre Rup and in the north east is the beautiful well preserved temple of Banteay Srei. There are in fact a hundred temples and probably more.

What is of particular interest to the Indian visitor is the remarkable evidence of the spread of Hinduism and its gods and fables across the seas and the earth more than a thousand years ago. Angkor Wat temples are a celebration and glorification of the Hindu god Shiva and the mythologies of Ramayana and Mahabharata.

Though the lingams are no longer there and stone statues of the Buddha have taken over, the carvings of scenes from Ramayana and Mahabharata on the walls of the long corridors of Angkor Wat have been restored and are intact. Hinduism and Buddhism were both the preferred faiths followed alternately according to the reigning king’s belief. The myth of the churning of the milk ocean by Asuras and Devas seems to have fascinated Angkor sculptors and kings. There are two huge rows of the scene at the gate of Angkor Thom temple.

Naga worship must have been prevalent as the snake motifs with erect hoods are carved in stone almost in all the temples. In the temple of Banteay Srei, which is praised as the jewel of Angkor, the pillars come alive with dancing apsaras and the gateways are filled with exquisite carvings depicting scenes from the Ramayana.

So the story goes...

There is an interesting story about the origin of the Indian connection. Cambodia came into being, so the story goes through a union between a Hindu Brahmin named Kaundinya who sailed by and a princess, the daughter of a dragon king who ruled the watery land. They fell in love and the king gave the land as dowry to Kaundinya to rule over. The kingdom was called Kambuja. The myth may or may not be true but it does say something about the cultural influences that affected Cambodia. Cambodia’s religious royal and written traditions stemmed from India. Buddhism spread there when Asoka sent his emissary to Cambodia. The long list of powerful Angkor kings has Hindu names beginning from Jayavarman II- who started building Angkor Wat two hundred years before Raja Raja Chola built the big temple of Tanjavur— the list has names like Yashovarman, Harsha varman, Rajendra Varman, Ishwara Varman— similar to the names of the Pallava kings of south India.

The French ‘discovery’ of Angkor in the 1860s made an international splash. It was only in 1901 the Ecole Francaised’Extreme-Orient began its long association with Angkor by funding an expedition to the Bayon temple.

In 1907 Angkor, which had been under Thai control, was returned to Cambodia and the EFEO took responsibility for clearing and restoring the whole site. Since the temples had Indian connection and the theme Hinduism, the cooperation of the Indian government was also taken for some sites. It was a stupendous task indeed. The monuments of Angkor were left to the jungle for many centuries. A large number of monuments are made of sandstone that tends to dissolve in prolonged exposure to wind and rain.

Monuments that wow!
At Ta Prohm, the jungle had stealthily made an all out invasion. The huge roots swoop down the monuments as if to devour them and the visual is at once breathtaking and awesome. What is striking about the sculptures is that no structure is made out of single rock boulders like you see in the temples of South India, but an assembly of blocks. The remarkable symmetry and serenity that prevails in the faces of the Bayon temple is truly amazing.

The temples of Angkor are the heart and soul of Cambodia. When our guide made a repeated reference to ‘My people, my country’ there was not only a natural pride but also the belief that Angkor was a true symbol of inspiration for the people to rise to eminence leaving behind the memories of suffering and trauma…

The last stand

Sunday, Feb 17, 2008
MUKUND PADMANABHAN
The Hindu (India)

Angkor has survived years of neglect, the colonisation of the jungle and the vandalism of the Khmer Rouge. But can it survive the tourists?

In Beng Melea, I have my first real Angkor experience, sitting amidst the rubble under the canopy of trees in the dim green light of a temple complex totally consumed by the jungle.

Arresting in its sheer scale: The Angkor Wat complex. (Photos: Mukund Padmanabhan)

Siem Reap, the gateway to the Angkor temples, is hardly the ideal place to concentrate the mind. Invited to attend a seminar, I find my attention wandering between the presentations and the temples, searching for ways to get out and spend time amidst the magnificent ruins in the thin interstices of symposium time.

Having checked into my hotel, there is a little over an hour before dusk. Why waste precious daylight? A tuk-tuk driver offers to take me to Phnom Bakheng to see the sunset. “Only two dollahs,” he says. “View vely vely nice.” I take his word for it and jump in the back of his spacious but wobbly machine. It is a short ride, one that sweeps past the spectacular moat-fringed walls of Angkor Wat and stops a little further at the base of a hill.

Remote and crowded

Here, I learn my first lesson about “remote” and “mystical” Angkor. For a place rediscovered only in the 1860s, protected by a thick belt of jungle, virtually cut off until 1998 due to a genocidal civil war, Angkor today lies on a road that is very well travelled. (“The world’s most crowded offbeat destination,” someone joked a couple of days later.) I guess I should have realised this when I passed the string of hotels that led to my own on the way from the airport. Or even before, when I spotted the Icelandair jet parked on the tarmac.

So then, I am not the only one with the sunset idea. Hundreds of others have planned to catch the last rays from the temple on the hill and I join the cheery chattering swarm on the way up. I make a list of nationalities from appearances, accents, dress and behaviour: English, German, French, Spanish, Italian, Arab, American, Thai and the ubiquitous groups of Japanese.

By the time I reach the summit, the swarm has settled on the top of the temple, perched on the edges, their cameras catching the surrounding plains in the dying light. Built at the end of the ninth century, Phnom Bakheng houses the ruin of a Shiva temple built on what was known as Sri Yasodharagiri. Built on a series of tiers, the uppermost platform, which is reached by steep stone steps flanked by lions, has a central tower that, like the numerous lesser ones, lies in a magnificent ruin.

There are four shivlings in each corner of the top tier and I spot a North American woman in biker shorts using one of them to support her Nike-clad foot as she fires a battery of photographs from her digicam. Perhaps, it is the sheer absurdity of it all. Or perhaps it is the sudden emergence of some deep and dormant element of my Hindu upbringing? But something gives. I ask her if she wouldn’t mind taking her foot off and then attempt to explain the significance of the shivling as she watches in open-mouthed astonishment. “I really wouldn’t have known,” she keeps apologising. When I turn away, I overhear her tell her friends. “Now, isn’t that awesome? You wouldn’t see this in Vancouver, would you?”

I add Canadian to my nationality list.

It isn’t until two days later that the next round of temple tourism becomes possible. The agenda is modest. A late afternoon visit to the mother temple, Angkor Wat, preceded by a quick walk through Ta Phrom. Known once as Rajavihara, Ta Phrom was built under Jayavarman VII in the 12th century. The Buddhist monastery — whose crumbling walls and towers are snugly wrapped by the sinuous roots of towering strangler figs and silk cotton trees — is the stuff of picture postcards. Literally. At one store outside Angkor Wat, 50 per cent of the postcards are of this carefully arranged ruin. Carefully arranged, because contrary to popular belief, Ta Phrom was not left entirely as it was after it was re-discovered by French explorers in 1860. Plenty of restoration work has been done to stabilise the ruin and maintain the atmosphere of deliberate neglect, in which architecture and nature are locked in inseparable and mysterious embrace. I think it reminds me of something out of an Indiana Jones film, until someone tells me I should be thinking about its more contemporary gender-reversed version, Tomb Raider, or the place where Angelina Jolie plucked a jasmine flower to find herself sucked into the earth.

Large dimensions

Angkorian temple builders thought large. Ta Prohm is by no means small; it was once home to 12,500 people, including 615 dancers. Angkorian temple builders dealt in large dimensions but nothing has prepared me for the size of mother temple, the next stop. Set in a complex that spreads over 81 hectares, the world’s largest religious monument, glowing with faded grandeur in the late afternoon sun, is arresting for its sheer size. It is impossible to be Indian and not wonder, while walking through this gigantic complex, why isn’t there anything in India even remotely as big as this early 12th century temple built by King Suryavarman II and dedicated to Vishnu. It is true that Angkorian temples (with the possible exception of Banteay Srei) lack the sculptural detail of their Indian counterparts; with respect to scale, however, they are unmatched.

Swept along with the swarm of people through the radial corridors and the concentric courtyards of this immaculately symmetrical structure, it is clear that Angkor has already become a tourist trap. Having survived years of neglect, the colonisation by the jungle, and the vandalism of the Khmer Rouge — which seemed intent of destroying all traces of Cambodia’s past — the question is: will Angkor survive the invasion of tourists? Less than 10,000 tourists visited Angkor Wat when it was put on the UNESCO heritage list in 1993; in 2005, the figure touched 1.4 million and is estimated to be in the region of three million by 2010. From a one-hotel town two and a half decades ago, Siem Reap now has them in scores.

As officials warn about the possible environmental damage from the tourism boom, the numbers of people going keep growing. Last year, the private company responsible for issuing tickets to the temples netted a cool $25 million. People come to Siem Reap from just about everywhere. Outside Angkor Wat, I am intrigued by a sprightly little girl with mud-streaked hair and a toothy grin — she is wearing a bindi. She senses my curiosity and tries selling me reed bangles. “Come on,” she urges in an American accent. “It’s cheap — only one dollar”. “But I am carrying only euros,” I lie. “No problem,” she retorts and cites the price in a range of currencies — including rupees. After being charmed into making the purchase, I point to the bindi and ask where she got it. “Oh, this,” she replies hurriedly before scampering off to a potential customer she has spotted. “An Indian tourist gave it to me.”

The real thing

On my last day, there is time to escape the tourists. I visit Bayon — with its strange stone faces and its otherworldly air — and then take an expensive taxi out to Beng Melea, an hour and a half away. The literature on the temple sounds promising — one booklet says it is one of the few temples where you can escape the tourist crush and my Lonely Planet describes it as a “spectacular sight” and “one of the most mysterious temples of Angkor”. Unlike Ta Phrom, Beng Melea has been totally left to nature. Finding your way around means hauling yourself over piles or rubble and climbing on walls and other vantage points for a view of the complex, which is structured pretty much like Angkor Wat.

There is virtually nobody around and I think I have my first real Angkor experience, sitting amidst the rubble under the canopy of trees in the dim green light of a temple complex totally consumed by the jungle. This is what Angkor was not so long ago. And this,

I couldn’t help thinking, is what it should be.

Cambodia: off the beaten track

The temples of Angkor Wat are still one of the wonders of the world, despite the tourist crowds

03/12/2007
The Telegraph (UK)

Revisiting a much-changed Cambodia, Philip Sherwell explores the glories waiting to be discovered away from the tourist track.

The temple complex of Angkor and the nearby town of Siem Reap were very different places the last time I visited. That was in 1996 on assignment for The Sunday Telegraph to cover the kidnapping of a Briton by the Khmer Rouge, the murderous Maoist movement that had inflicted the horrors of the Killing Fields on Cambodia. Sadly but predictably, Christopher Howes, who had been working with a British organisation clearing landmines, was murdered by his captors.

Siem Reap in those days was a dusty backwater, its potholed streets best negotiated on the back of spluttering motorbike taxis that rarely got up enough speed to pose any danger of bodily harm.

Angkor was being rediscovered by the first intrepid visitors after nearly two decades in Khmer Rouge hands. By early 1996, the main cluster of temples was safe, but outlying sites remained off-limits unless one wanted to risk being blown up by mines or suffering the sad fate of Mr Howes.

In delightful solitude one early morning, I set off to explore the remarkable main temple of Angkor Wat, followed by the glorious bas-reliefs of Bayon and the barely touched remains of Ta Prohm, then the ultimate in Indiana Jones adventures.

How things change. Siem Reap is now a boisterous hive of activity, while the marvels of Angkor are thoroughly on the tourist track. The temples are still one of the wonders of the world, no less stunning for the crowds, but I hankered after the glorious loneliness of my previous visit.

So I headed 50 miles north, past paddy fields and villages of wooden huts on stilts little changed by the rapid development that has swept Siem Reap. Eleven years ago, this would have been a suicidal journey into Khmer Rouge territory, but my return offered new possibilities: outlying temples, cut off back then by minefields, were now accessible.

My destination was Beng Melea, a 12th-century temple built to the same design as Angkor Wat. For visitors disappointed by the busloads of camera-toting tourists at Ta Prohm, these largely undiscovered jungle ruins are a treat.

With the help of a young guide, I scrambled through the site to the chirupping chorus of cicadas in the same stunned reverie I felt when I first wandered around Angkor Wat.

First he showed me a sign on a mound next to the overgrown moat enumerating the 21,000-plus mines cleared from this site alone.

Inside the compound, thick, gnarled trunks and roots thrust through the masonry with such abandon that the stone and wood seemed indivisible; branches and vines stretched, embraced and bent around the ancient masonry like tentacles.

Back in Siem Reap, I found another compelling reason to embrace rather than bemoan the changes of the past 11 years - the award-winning glories of the chic new Hôtel de la Paix. Its art deco façade - think South Beach Miami transported to South-East Asia - graced the cover of Architectural Digest magazine last year.

The original hotel served as a rice storage depot during the era of genocidal communist purdah under Pol Pot. The elegant new structure is a mix of traditional Khmer, art deco and contemporary influences. The rooms have polished Makha-wood floors, woven rugs, platform beds and terrazzo tubs. Fountains and ponds fill the open spaces.

But although La Paix is an enticing oasis, the last thing the hotel wants is for you to insulate yourself from your surroundings.

It offers guests the chance to support community-based activities and good causes and the revival of Cambodian arts and culture. Options include a sewing training centre, rice sponsorship, educational support, hospitals and children's centres.

As the recipients of the book, bikes and other items from the hotel scheme can vouch, progress is not all bad.

The milking of Cambodian treasures and heritage by Vietnamese, Thai and foreigners

Angkor Wat's iconic towers rise in the dawn light. JEFF KINGSTON PHOTOS

ANGKOR WAT
Cambodia's jungle treasure still stuns the senses

Sunday, Nov. 11, 2007
By JEFF KINGSTON
Special to The Japan Times

Certainly, locals are sharing very little in the tourist income, as foreign investors are creaming off most of the profits. The lucrative ticket concession is held by a Vietnamese company, the soon to be opened Angkor National Museum is controversially owned by a Thai company, and international investors prevail in the booming hotel and services sector ... In exchange, Cambodians are getting low-paying jobs and are mostly on the outside looking in on the milking of this cash cow.

These days any number of people will delight in ruefully declaring how such and such a place has been ruined — overrun by tourists and commercialism — and, as if to rub salt into the wound, they'll tell you that if you'd only visited it when they first did, you too could have savored Paradise.

A monk outside an ancient temple is framed by enormous kapok trees.

These killjoys may be right in some instances, but they're dead wrong when it comes to Angkor, the stunning and magical "city" of over 200 temples built between the ninth and 13th centuries around what is now the modern Cambodian town of Siem Reap.

I first visited in 1996, and then again in 2000, and indeed the inroads of mass tourism were already evident, but muted. In 1996 there were about 55,000 arrivals, and in 2000 some 194,000. It was a tranquil place still emerging from the ravages of civil war.

So, having heard dire reports from recent visitors, and seeing that 2006 arrivals topped 850,000, I returned with some trepidation to probably the world's most stunning sacred site.

I am happy to report that the massive and widely dispersed Angkor temple complex retains its mystique — and that it's absorbing larger numbers of tourists without losing what makes it so appealing.

Angkor retains its allure because the temples, carvings and bas-reliefs chiseled out over the centuries are awe-inspiring and unrivaled.

Crowds? Yes, they are present, but it's still possible to find times and places to be alone and gaze upon wondrous sculptures amid jungle surroundings — with your only distraction being the cacophony of tropical birds. I viewed sunrise at Angkor Wat from the eastern steps in a "crowd" of five! And as my guide informed me about the rich iconography, showing me some of his favorite carvings of apsara (dancers) with bare breasts shiny from frequent caressing, I encountered very few people. I was told that Cambodians have traditionally brushed the breasts of the apsara for good luck, and this has caught on with foreigners. Yes, well.

As we made our way down to the stunning bas-reliefs that adorn the terraces of Angkor Wat, depicting battle scenes and tableaux featuring various kings and gods, I was virtually alone, my steps echoing in the corridors as I lingered over these marvels of artisanship.

Exquisite detail from a 10th-century lintel (above), and a gateway under the benevolent gaze of the Bodhisattva Lokesvara (below).

But back to the start: The best way to get around the temples is by remork, a comfy, canopied carriage hauled by a motorcycle that quickly cools you off even as you regard with some sympathy all those cyclists peddling furiously toward heatstroke and sunburn. But if by chance a tour group should suddenly descend on your Arcadian idyll, just relax awhile and they'll soon trundle off to another temple on their checklist.

This way, the lingering tourist is rewarded in ways entirely unknown to all those furiously paced sightseers eager to pack in everything during a two-day whirlwind tour. There are, too, temples far off the beaten path and only recently opened to tourists, such as Beng Melea, where contemplative silence and solitude can be yours.

For those with an adventurous spirit, the Angkor region has much to discover. But when you need a break you can wander over to the local food stalls, pull up a bench, crack a cold beer and ruminate over some freshly chopped boiled pig tongue for a princely sum equivalent to about $1.

These days Siem Reap boasts many accommodation options, ranging from backpacker guesthouses to five-star resorts. Queen among the latter is the Amansara, a boutique hotel situated on the grounds of what used to be Prince Sihanouk's state guesthouse. The renovation was extensive and the facility now boasts two large pools, attractive grounds and beautifully appointed, spacious rooms — some with their own plunge pools. The lap of luxury doesn't get much more sybaritic than this, and it's not hard to appreciate just how superb Khmer cuisine can be. This is gourmet grazing served in an elegant setting by friendly, professional staff.

But if you are feeling templed-out (the guides arrange well-paced tours designed to avoid overdoing it), there are other temptations and opportunities for guilt-alleviation should the need arise.

Toby Anderson, the general manager at Amansara, is proud that his resort beat out competitors from around the world to win the travel industry's coveted Virtuoso Award for Best Community Service Program — a testimony to his efforts to support local nongovernmental organizations.

The hotel's Green Trotter program is designed to link wealthy guests with needy NGOs via onsite visits. Guests receive a brochure that provides contact info and descriptions of eight NGOs that Toby knows and supports, and the hotel arranges appointments. He explains that there are many other worthy organizations in Cambodia's growing civil society, but he has selected those operations that also have the capacity to handle visitors; most of them run on shoestring budgets so they can't afford to pull staff away from saving lives to explain their programs to curious tourists.

Anderson estimates that some 40 percent of guests make site visits, and he strongly encourages them to make significant cash donations — not promises — to support these initiatives. These range from rescuing street children from sex-tourism, and educating and housing orphans, to environmental preservation programs and reviving the nearly lost art of traditional silk weaving.

Mighty porcines arrive at the market in Siem Reap improbably strapped onto small motorbikes. JEFF KINGSTON PHOTOS

A boy learns English at the Sangkheum Center for orphans, an NGO assisted by the efforts of Toby Anderson, general manager of a luxury hotel serving Angkor Wat.

In fact, one of the targeted NGOs was recently blessed by a sudden, and much appreciated, $20,000 wire transfer from an Amansara guest — exactly the type of outcome the program aims for.

On my own visit to the Sangkheum Center for orphans, I was struck by the dedication of the volunteers, mostly former backpackers, and the enthusiasm of the students; they routinely arrive 20 minutes early for classes, which are in addition to public-school instruction. The orphans live in attractive bungalows far removed from any Dickensian images, and the facility produces silk and ironware products that help offset costs. In addition to the 48 resident orphans, the facility caters to some 150 local neighborhood kids, offering classes in English and computers.

Siem Reap is a town that is developing rapidly, and the road in from the airport is lined with glitzy new hotels. Given the stunning features of Angkor, more might have been hoped for from the architects, but obviously commerce has trumped heritage. Anderson, however, is hopeful that the pendulum is swinging inevitably toward preservation — precisely because it makes most commercial sense.

The Cambodian government is aware that Angkor is their golden goose, and it knows that preservation is the best way to sustain this revenue stream. The strong UNESCO presence is another encouraging sign, providing advice, technical assistance and funding.

However, from a tourist point of view, the new toilet facilities located near some of the temples are a welcome convenience and help limit littering.

Dancers at the Bayon Temple in Angkor Wat pose before one of the magnificent rock sculptures (above). Below is an ancient vision of hell in bas-relief at the complex. JEFF KINGSTON PHOTOS

It is also miraculous how much more peaceful it is now that the authorities have somehow managed to rein in the trinket-selling children. On past visits this was a perpetual hassle impossible to shake off, and it certainly detracted from the contemplative experience. Now, those youthful hawkers remain at the entrances and exits and ply their sales trade without overly bothering visitors.

But then, departing from the swish new airport, I reflected on all the changes swirling through this once sleepy backwater where construction sites now abound. Certainly, locals are sharing very little in the tourist income, as foreign investors are creaming off most of the profits. The lucrative ticket concession is held by a Vietnamese company, the soon to be opened Angkor National Museum is controversially owned by a Thai company, and international investors prevail in the booming hotel and services sector.

In exchange, Cambodians are getting low-paying jobs and are mostly on the outside looking in on the milking of this cash cow. Managers say they would like to promote Cambodians into managerial roles, but they complain they have not had much success with the limited talent pool.

It's worth remembering that civil war raged here until 1993, and so this war-traumatized nation is still recovering and it will take some time for educational investments to pay off.

Jeff Kingston is director of Asian Studies at Temple University, Japan campus.

Rush hour at Angkor

The Buddhist complex of Ta Prohm is one of the largest sites at Angkor.

Pedal power is the main way of getting to the sites.

You can always take a break and ride in comfort.

November 04, 2007
Kara Murphy
Sunday Mail (Australia)

IT'S 6am, "rush hour", and locals from outlying villages make their way to Siem Reap on bicycles while remorque-motos (motorbikes pulling a covered carriage) carrying tourists putter along the main road towards the temples of Angkor.

This morning, I have neither bicycle nor remorque-moto to carry me. My old, faithful feet do the job instead.

The debatably bright notion of walking to Angkor Wat comes when a waiter at my hotel mentions that it is only 6km away.

"Great!" I think. Aware of the danger of landmines when walking off the beaten temple tracks, I assume that exercise opportunities will be minimal.

As usual, assumptions are incorrect, and I soon learn that Angkor's temples are quite spread out and exploring them certainly involves moving one's feet.

Angkor Wat, one of about 100 temples scattered over a 300sq km area in northern Cambodia, was most likely constructed as a Hindu temple between AD 1113-50, serving as a mausoleum for King Suryavaram II and later as a Buddhist temple.

Heading north from Siem Reap, visitors reach this temple first, and walking is a necessary part of exploring its grandeur.

A 250m causeway crosses its moat, and a 500m avenue leads from the main entrance to the central temple. Bas-reliefs stretch 800m around the outside of the three-storey central complex.

The first floor's Gallery of 1000 Buddhas and the second floor's 1500 apsaras (celestial dancers) don't make my jaw drop as much as the approach to the third floor. At 24m above the ground, the third level is accessible only by climbing exceedingly steep steps. The height and angle is paralysing on the final steps, and I'm both unable to move forward and too frightened to descend. Fortunately, a Cambodian guide-for-hire explains that if I can continue, another set of steps – complete with railing – is available for the descent.

After exploring the complex for nearly two hours, I'm ready to proceed to the Bayon, the central temple of the fortified Buddhist city of Angkor Thom (built by Angkor's greatest king, Jayavarman VII, in the late 12th and early 13th century).

Since it's 3km away, walking seems excessive in the moisture-rich heat.

Instead, I hire a remorque-moto, which carries me swiftly past the gargantuan faces of the Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara at Angkor Thom's south entrance, past elephants (used for hauling tourists short distances) and through shady surrounds towards the Bayon's entrance.

From the remorque-moto, the Bayon doesn't look particularly spectacular but, moving closer, I appreciate the identical contented representations of Jayavarman VII, adorning each of the four sides of the temple's 54 gothic towers.

The faces are both spooky and fascinating, and worth another look when I'm not so exhausted from a long walk.

Hailing a remorque-moto for $A3 back to the hotel for a long, lazy lunch is a no-brainer.

Just before sunrise the next day, I pedal towards Angkor Wat on a rented bicycle, hoping to view the temple in a different light.

The ride takes half an hour and, alas, the lighting and sunrise are less than ideal.

Just over a kilometre from Angkor Wat is late 9th or early 10th century Phnom Bakheng, a five-tiered Hindu temple mountain where crowds flock to view Angkor Wat at sunset.

Even though it's at least 11 hours too early, the view is gorgeous, plus the 67m descent occurs in daylight.

About 3km beyond the Bayon is the west gate of circa-1191 Preah Khan, one of the largest complexes at Angkor.

Its vaulted corridors provide cooling shade, and it is here where I first spy the magical tree roots that claim the stonework like alien claws.

Taking the longer route to Ta Prohm, I spend 90 minutes cycling north and east around Preah Khan, south past the circa-952 East Mebon, and west towards mysterious Ta Prohm's entrance.

En route is a group of little girls who have decorated themselves in leaves.

Stopping to take their photo, I give them a bit of riel (the local currency). On the ride back, these entrepreneurs are on the side of the road, fully dressed up in homemade leaf turbans, ready for the next tourist photo op.

Ta Prohm, a Mahayana Buddhist monastery, was built around 1186 and dedicated to Jayavarman VII's mother. Overcome at every angle with grasping roots choking the crumbling ruins, its atmosphere is one of decay and jungle power. It's no wonder that this site was selected for the filming of Tomb Raider.

A guide-for-hire leads me to Nim, the monk pictured on the cover of the 4th edition of the Lonely Planet Cambodia guidebook.

Nim uses this fame for a good cause. On a temple step, he sells slightly overpriced trinkets to camera-touting tourists, guidebook propped beside him, with proceeds benefiting local monks.

After an hour's pedal back to the hotel, I'm well and truly spent. One day of this type of exertion is plenty, and the next day $A24 buys remorque-moto transport to the intricately carved circa-967 Banteay Srei, 32km from Siem Reap.

To avoid becoming too overwhelmed and exhausted, spend at least four days in Siem Reap, using mornings to explore the temples by bicycle and remorque-moto, and afternoons to relax by a pool, beer in hand, reflecting on the morning's discoveries.