We wake up early the next day, eager to explore Angkor Watt. If this monument is the symbol of the country, the singular emblem emblazoned upon their flag, it must be a sight to behold.
Ravenously, we devour our omelets, bread, and fruit while my Ipod spews Jack Johnson over the speakers for the rest of the backpackers to listen to. A little Jack to start the day never hurt anyone. Downstairs in the courtyard we make fast friends with our Tuk-tuk driver, as only backpackers are keen to do. In a case rarely seen for Tuk-tuk drivers, he is the silent, but deep type. And soon enough Silence, Danny, and I were on the road, grit in our mouths and all.
The tour is to last all day. The site of Angkor Watt is enormous, with Angkor Watt being only one of the many temples. As we get closer, the canopy begins to grow thicker and the trees become denser. Silence drops us off at the causeway, a road quietly watched over by 57 stone gods and demons for the last thousand years or so. As we get down, an elephant walks by, straddled on its neck by a dark Cambodian cowboy. The small pen on its back hardly keeps the two tourists from spilling off. We make our way past the southern gate to meet Silence on the other side, careful to avoid the Japanese and Koreans busy with their photo shoots, an obstacle we contend with for the rest of the day. Through the massive gate, we again board our Tuk-tuk. Silence smiles and ignites the motor.
Our first stop was Angkor Thom, the last capital city of the Angkor Empire and right next to Angkor Watt. From the outside Bayon, the main temple, looks quite formidable. A vast array of crumbling rock, it is easy to see how it once was the heart of the city. Danny and I climb straight into it, not bothering to take pictures, whether for lack of effort or, more likely, for lack of camera. It was not until we reached the third and final level did the temple reveal itself. Tower upon tower of faces have been carved into the walls of stone. In every direction and every angle, the same face looks down upon you in this temple. The huge relief portraits surround and watch us as we stroll by in the midday heat. Each the same as the next, supposedly sculpted to immortalize an extremely arrogant king, the temple surely does its job well. Carefully, we climb down, amazed at the detail and architecture.
Next, we visit Ta Keo, another large temple, which, unfortunately, was left half constructed due to foreboding lightening strikes. Moving on, we hit Ta Prohm. This temple epitomizes the longstanding conflict of man vs. nature. Left mainly as it was discovered, it highlights the power of nature to reclaim. The Angkor Empire had carved out a large section of the forest to build this temple, which served as a university in its heyday. However, since it was left to ruin, nature has once again asserted itself. Gorgeous trees grow right on top of the carved stone, enormous roots forcing their way into the soil and retaking the land that was once theirs. A sinewy collection of vines, moss, and roots tangle to grope the stones back into the earth. In this battle, at least, it seems that nature has had the last word.
After a light lunch of beef with ginger and morning glory, we head toward Preah Kahn. This sprawling complex served as the residence of the king who built many of the Angkor temples. Needless to say, it was quite large. This structure, more than any of the others, highlighted one of the most distinct and fascinating features of Angkor architecture. They would separate every area of the house with rectangular portals. However, as you get closer to the center of the complex, the portals get larger and larger. As they were all in a straight line, the effect was something like looking in a mirror when there is another mirror directly behind you. Awesome and unnecessary.
It is these smaller temples which were much more rewarding in their own way. Because they were not as popular, it was easier to get lost and enjoy the serenity of living in an empire long past. The solitude became moving.
On our way out of Angkor Thom, we speed by a family of monkeys. Our driver stops so what we can get a closer look. I eagerly hop out of the carriage, and cautiously begin to approach one of the bigger ones. Step by step I get closer, hands out, ready to pet it. The nervous look on its face is palpable. Then, without warning, that nervousness changes into ferocity as the monkey heightens its eyebrows, widens its eyes and opens its mouth. I am terrified and promptly turn tail. Luckily, we are more successful with the smaller males, who are curious. They allow us to pet them, and even shake our hands. There's something gloriously hilarious about using the word monkey on an actual monkey you are petting.
Anyway. We saved the best for last. Sunset over Angkor Wat. Approaching Angkor Watt, one cannot help but to gape at its moat. A man-made lake over two miles long, this huge ditch would leave European castles with moat-envy. To me, it seems as if the king had asked the temple planners to draw up something ridiculously big and impossible to build. Then tripled it. Danny and I buy two beers to enjoy over sunset, and head off across the long land bridge. We pass through the large outer wall, and enter the gargantuan courtyard. I seemed at least 3/4 a kilometer just reach the temple. Angkor Wat itself towered like a school yard bully. The time, effort, skill, and money to build such a monument with such limited technology must have been substantial indeed. Danny and I take our time exploring the vast grounds of the temple. We exhaust it with still a couple hours still left to sunset, and so decide to find a shady spot on its back porch for a nap.
Waking up, we head back outside to the many stalls selling food nearby. Not hungry, we set up shop on a few steps close by. Throughout this trip, whether in Cambodia or Vietnam, we have been accosted by countless men, women, and children looking to sell us something, anything. The instant we sat down was no different. No less than 6 grubby little children surrounded us, 'You buy post card? 1 dollar!' 'You buy mango? 1 dollar!'
A snippet of conversation as we are outsmarted by a Cambodian salesboy:
'You buy book?' (He totes over his mountain of stacked photocopied guides to Cambodia.)
Danny: My friend doesn't speak English (he points at me), only Vietnamese.
'Then why he hold book?' (the boy points at my very english LonelyPlanet)
Danny: Touche, my friend.
We sit there for more than a few minutes, expressing our total disinterest in buying anything at all. Most of the kids walk away, but a little girl remains more persistent than most. Soon, she gets the message, but I manage to persuade her to sit next to me as I lay on my backpack. Apparently, as I learned through her friend Krazie, this little one had dropped out of school. 3rd Grade Drop Out was cute as button, and it broke my heart to hear that she had stopped schooling. We made friends as she taught me Cambodian and I taught her how to fist-bump. Soon, we were surrounded by an entourage, which included Krazie, Drop Out, 17 going on 12, and Big Baby. Big baby was possibly the funniest little boy anyone has put on this earth. Round as a ball, with only pampers-like underwear to protect him, this 3-year-old looked like he belonged in the World's Largest Crib. 17 going on 12, as implied, looked like she was way too young to be graduating soon, but was doing a great job translating for us. She hopes to be fluent in English, Japanese, and Korean in addition to her Cambodian. I hope so too; she was surely well on her way. Looking up into the clear blue sky, we toiled away our day with our small clique without much drama. That is, of course, until the Japanese came.
A huge tour-group decided to roll by, which normally would have been fine with me, except this time, a young Japanese female had the audacity to be passing out candy to the little Cambodian children. Her skin was beautifully clean white, the kind most Asians would die for, and one could see her intentions were just as pure. She had no idea what a no-good immoral Vietnamese boy I am. Finished doling out her sweets, she began to move on. Infuriated that I had been passed over, I quickly yelled out after her for my piece of 'Candy?!'. As if anticipating my whim, Drop Out immediately places her piece into hand, apparently not a fan of toffee. Before I know it, the entire tour-group had turned around, witness to my 'demands' of candy from a poor Cambodian girl. I turn to them, with the realization of what this looks like only dawning on me. Once I do understand, I know that the language barrier is impregnable. The silence becomes tangible. Fair Skin comes back to see what has happened to her candy. I hold it up, look at her, and totally crack up, laughing until my stomach starts to cramp. I had no idea what else to do. Luckily, she finds the humor in the situation too, and the tour group smiles and moves on from this Vietnamese Candy Stealer. Danny sits there, red in the face, too embarrassed of me to say anything. I smile at Drop Out, use the one word she taught me, 'Ar Kun', thank you, and pop the candy into my mouth. She beams back with a smile of her own.
Sadly, we soon leave our friends to catch the last glimpse of sunset. The sun dips into the western horizon, hiding behind the gatehouse wall. Colors of purple, orange, and deep blue spill out into the sky. The clouds clear just in time to make room for the last rays of sun. Even Arizona could hardly come up with a better set. Danny and I crack our now warm beers in the shadow of a tree amidst the courtyard, just off the path to the temple. We watch as the fading colors drip down the stone monument. On the tree next to us, thousands of ants stream up and down, a running river of life. I wonder where they are going, what they are doing, and why they are doing it. We sit there, enjoying the freedom of no responsibilities, time on our side. As the temple closes around six, and a barrage of people begin to pass. A stream of life of their own, teaming outward, onward. They are going everywhere and nowhere, doing everything and nothing, for all reasons and with no reason. Just like us. Just like me.
