Window on Southeast Asia:
Along Cambodia's Backroads
continued
The next day my driver took me to Phnom Suntonk, a temple set high on a hill. It's a truly spectacular place that would be a major tourist destination anywhere else. At the foot of the hill is a blue, white, and gold archway flanked by golden Khmer lions (actually an incarnation of the Hindu god Vishnu) and other mythical animals, including two nagas, mythical sea-dragons originally from India. From the arch it's another 809 steps to the top. The sandstone nagas that flank the entrance run all the way up, held aloft by over 2,000 1.5 foot high, smiling statues. They represent the Hindu story of the churning of the sea of milk in which the Hindu Gods and demons used a naga to churn a sea of milk to create the elixir that gave the gods eternal life.
Stairway to the temple near Kampong Thom
Once I finally reached the top I found myself in a Buddhist wonderland. Along with the very ornate prayer halls, there were cave shrines, depictions of the Buddha's life, and carvings of the Buddha and Hindu deities on the rock face. Cambodia may be Buddhist now, but its Hindu past has not been forgotten and Cambodia's temples still have colorful depictions of Hindu stories.
The next day I began my journey to Kampong Chhnang (don't even try to pronounce it) by minivan. The road is incredibly bumpy (there is a fast boat from Phnom Penh for those short on time) but the very slow speed did allow me to take a good look at the countryside and the villages. Along the way we passed through a number of villages with varying degrees of wealth, though none could be mistaken for wealthy. In the poorer ones houses were made of palm leaf mats on a bamboo frame. In the wealthier ones there were painted houses made of wood.
Cambodia is a very waterlogged country. Even in the dry season quite a bit of land is under water. Often, the areas under water are partitioned by bamboo fences like any other piece of land. Many of these hold waterfowl. In many waterlogged parts of the country, bamboo fences, tightly woven together, form a "V" with a small space where the two parts come together. In this space is placed a cornucopia-shaped basket. Every so often someone will come out and collect the fish that have gathered in the basket. The water-soaked land reminded me of the Khmer story about the creation of Cambodia and of the Khmer race. They say that an Indian prince was exiled, and as he traveled by ship from India a naga princess fell in love with him and became a human. When they were married, her father, the naga king, drank up the water from part of the ocean to create Cambodia. It would seem that the naga king didn't drink up all the water. The Khmer people are said to be descended from this couple.
Kampong Chhnang, like so many small Cambodian towns, has the same pleasant blend of French and Khmer architecture I found at Kampong Thom. On top of that it has wide, shady streets and a number of large parks that made it one of the most pleasant towns I've ever experienced. The suburbs of the town have the feel of quiet Khmer villages, the quiet broken only by the sound of children playing. It was hard to miss the tall, strikingly colorful temples that soar from many of these quiet suburbs. Their pillars were topped with dozens of mythical birds that seemed ready to pounce as gold nagas gazed down from the red-tiled roof. Overlooking all this, the Hindu god Indra stood guard on his three-headed elephant. I understand that the dockside—which is all most tourists ever see as they take the boat from Phnom Penh to Angkor—is quite ugly and has given Kampong Chhnang a bad reputation. I can't confirm that given that I never saw the dockside, but as I didn't see another tourist the whole time I can confirm that it's not on the tourist map.
After checking into my guesthouse, I hired a motorcycle driver to take me around the countryside. So we headed out on a maze of small, unpaved country roads, with scenery typical of the Cambodian countryside. Rice fields were divided by a checker-board of trails and palm trees grew along side the trails. Our destination was a couple of hill temples south of town.
When I climbed to the top of the first one I found several school kids there. They were excited to ask the usual barrage of English questions ("Where you come from?" "What your name?" etc.) to a native English speaker. Some of them told me they'd never met an American before, something I heard quite often around Kampong Chhnang. The kids showed me all over the temple. It wasn't really that impressive, but they couldn't wait to show me around. I was expecting them to ask for some money afterward, but they didn't. Not that I would have cared if they had, but I knew I was off the tourist trail when people spent their time showing me around a place just to be friendly.
The next hill temple we stopped at was very impressive. Called Wat Phnom Robath, it has two complexes, one on top of the mountain and another at the foot of the mountain. I first visited the one on the mountain, which was up a staircase guarded by two brightly painted nagas with five heads and green bodies that stretched up the entire staircase. At the top the brightly painted temple depicted scenes of the Buddha's life. In one lovely painting I saw two angels floating in the sky dropping what looked like flower blossoms onto the Buddha as he sat meditating. I saw this motif several times in Cambodia. Often, the angel is dropping gold. I was told that whatever she is dropping symbolizes blessings. At the lower part of the temple there was a huge fountain with a statue, about 20 feet tall, of an angel with very long hair. Legend has it that she wrung out her hair and drowned an army of demons who were trying to attack the Buddha as he was reaching enlightenment.
It was getting late, which made the ride back to Kampong Chhnang all the more enjoyable. The golden light of the setting sun changed the brown fields into an amber color, making it much more beautiful than before. The slow way of life and the peaceful feeling of the rice fields in the setting sun made it hard to believe that this land had been a battleground just a few years ago. But the fact that you meet people at places that should be big tourist attractions who have never met an American serves as a reminder. To Cambodians, tourists are a welcome reminder that 30 years of war, genocide, and political insanity are finally over. Along the way I saw a vague human shape made from white paper hanging over the road. I was told that someone had died in the village and this "ghost" symbolized his spirit. It would be cremated with the dead person.
The slow pace of life is one of Cambodia's many attractions and becomes intoxicatingly peaceful in the evening, that time of day when every place seems pleasant. Kampong Chhnung is a great place for an evening stroll and to see everyday Cambodian life going by slowly. As I wandered through the streets, taking in the French and Khmer atmosphere in the fading light, the sounds of insects chirping, children playing and monks softly chanting at a nearby temple wafted through the air. At one stream running through town, people were gathering frogs for the next day's meal. Before eating them they would decide whose frog croaked the loudest.
From there I went to the city of Battambang, the second largest city in Cambodia, which balances great elegance with a peaceful small town feel. From there it was time to say goodbye to this mysterious and charming country. As I took a long last look from the Thai border I thought about all the friendly people, the pleasant towns, the villages and the culture that, among other things, assured that the back roads of Cambodia would stay with me forever. I don't know how long it will remain a secret, but in December of 2001 it was a place where I could visit and feel like a guest rather than a tourist.
Robert Wilson is an English teacher in northern Thailand. Pictures of his travels can be seen at photos.yahoo.com/robert_92122.
First in our series, Window on Southeast Asia: From Monkey to Monk
Don't miss future articles from Robert in our continuing series, Window on Southeast Asia.
