Southeast Asia Part III — Cambodia
Hey friends! Thanks for coming back for Part III of my trip series. These do not need to be read in order, but here is Part I and Part II if you missed them ❤️
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Siem Reap
We landed at the Siem Reap airport and our guide, Hun, picked us up. His energy was incredibly different from Lee’s. In contrast to Lee, who was hyper and talkative, Hun was soft spoken and professional in his demeanor. He did eventually loosen up as he got to know us, but it started off that way. I was a little relieved by his cadence. As much as I liked Lee, I was looking forward to having a guide with a calm temperament because it made me feel calm too.
We landed in the evening, and I watched the stunning sunset, filled with burnt orange and fuchsia, on the ride from the airport to the hotel. I think what made the sunset so great was how easy it was to see; there were barely any buildings or homes blocking it. We dropped off our stuff, and then went to a nearby restaurant. Flipping through the menu, I made my choice: fried silkworms.
I often mention my late brother in my writing, and ordering these silkworms was a moment I felt connected with him. He was always the person to order the dish on the menu that everyone was most unfamiliar with. As a kid/teen, I sometimes thought that the dishes he ordered were gross, but now here I was excitedly ordering silkworms. I knew he would have wanted to try it, too.
The silkworms were flavored very well. My eyes welled at the pleasant heat, but the texture was one that was difficult to get used to: the initial outer crispiness gives way to a grainy mush inside. I’ll admit that I struggled to finish my plate, but if you can get past the texture, they’re definitely worth the try. Luckily, as we were wrapping up the meal, Hun asked if he could have a spoonful, and I gladly handed it over and said I was all done with it.
Afterwards, Hun went back to the hotel, and the group and I perused the nearby nightlife. Our hotel was located near “Pub Street,” a strip filled with bars, restaurants, live music, shopping, and tourists. I didn’t see many Cambodians actually hanging out on that street, apart from those who were working. Much like Times Square is not a New Yorker’s New York, Pub Street is not a Cambodian’s Cambodia and highly caters to tourists.
I heard classic rock and pop songs all around from bars advertising “Western Music.” Almost everything on that street was in English, too. Workers along this street tended to be very pushy as well. Multiple people approached my group to try to get us into their bars, to get massages, to buy things in their shops.
The next day, I was thankfully far away from Pub Street. Hun took us cycling through a nearby village. It was beautiful and relaxing to cycle along dirt roads looking at the fields, wetlands, and homes pass by. Like in Vietnam, the small children of these villages joyfully greeted us as we biked past.
Going to so many of these villages made me realize how unaccustomed I was to seeing children interact with strangers. These kids didn’t seem to have that “stranger danger” mentality that I suppose many of us grow up with. While visiting a Buddhist temple later that day, there was a group of children playing there that curiously followed us around. Hun asked them a little about themselves and we learned that they were on a school break, and that some of them were related. They were adorable, and clearly very ready to pose.
Biking through the village, Hun explained that most of the homes were on stilts because, “the ground is for the dead, and above ground is for the living.” Buddhism is the state religion of Cambodia, with the majority of Cambodians following Theravada Buddhism, a thread felt even in daily greetings. When saying hello, goodbye, thank you, or apologizing, Cambodian people use a sampeah, which is when you put your hands together in a prayer-like position and bow.
I liked using this pose. It felt nice to acknowledge another, to be acknowledged back, with a pose designed to pay reverence and respect to this universe. I also liked how versatile it was. If I ever forgot the words for “thank you,” I could still put my hands together and bow, and I would be understood.
To get around cities in Cambodia, hailing a tuk tuk, a small carriage attached to a motorcycle, is a popular choice. The life of a tuk tuk driver is an interesting one. They ride around towns asking if anyone needs a ride and, when they’re taking a break or waiting for riders, they hang up hammocks inside their carriage and rest. The excitement never wore off when I saw a driver whip the hammock out. Life felt slower, and I wondered if the more relaxed nature was an inherent part of the culture.
Angkor Wat
A trip to Cambodia would not be complete without a visit to Angkor Wat. Many people know about Angkor Wat, but there are also about 1000 smaller temples within the complex — some still up, some piles of fallen stones — and I got to see a small fraction of these. Angkor Wat is the biggest and most iconic. It is one of the largest religious sites in the world, and it is a source of pride of the country. The temple is on the Cambodian flag and images of it are also on the Riel currency. There are also construction laws that prevent skyscrapers from being built near it.
It was amazing to see the temple and walk through it. Throughout its history, it has been used for Buddhist and Hindu worship, so you can see imagery, in the form of statues and detailed wall designs, from both cultures.
Being at Angkor Wat, though very impressive, suffered from the same kind of drawbacks that many major world wonders do. There were swarms of people everywhere, and we were all trying to take the same kinds of photos.
As I walked around, I observed tons of guides giving tours to families, small groups, couples, and solo travelers. It was cool to hear all of these guides speaking languages like French, Portuguese, Spanish, and Dutch with Cambodian accents. Hun later told me that, to be a guide, one needed to get officially certified in a specific language, and that some languages were more in demand than others.
The temples are made of sandstone, and not very equipped to handle the millions of visitors each year. You can see where the stone has eroded, and certain sections are blocked off for safety and restoration. Even still, people touched and climbed upon the stones and temples and although there were some guides around who worked there, they didn’t seem to care much.
Hun told us that, if we wanted to, we could visit Angkor Wat again at sunrise. I was interested in this experience because I hoped that the early time would mean there’d be less people around.
I was completely wrong about this. The next morning, we got into a tuk tuk and rode through the dark until we reached the Angkor complex. Even in the dark, I started to see tons of people walking and biking towards the temple. I guess it wasn’t such a unique idea after all.
I joined the swarms of other humans waiting for the sunrise, and watched all of the people around me take photos with their cameras and iPhones. I tried to take a picture too, but quickly abandoned it because it didn’t look good, and I saw so many people around me trying to take photos which also didn’t look good.
I put my phone away and tried to be as present as possible, but I was distracted by all of the people in front of me who kept trying every few seconds to get a better shot. This depressed me a bit. When we’re so consumed by trying to get a good photograph, how much are we really immersed in what we’re seeing and experiencing? I know I am a victim of it, too.
Battambang
Cambodia was under French colonial rule for 90 years, officially ending in 1953. Battambang, the third largest city in Cambodia, is one of the cities where you can still see evidence of this past. Unlike other areas of Cambodia, the streets are arranged in a grid-like pattern, and there is still French colonial architecture.
In 1967 the Cambodian Civil War began and lasted until 1975. The war was eventually “won” by the Khmer Rouge, a radical communist movement, when they took over the capital city, Phnom Penh. With the Khmer Rouge in power, Cambodia suffered an incredibly dark period.
This regime ruled Cambodia from 1975 to 1979, and a staggering level of damage was done in this short time. Within these few years, the Cambodian Genocide killed an estimated 2 million Cambodians — nearly a quarter of their population at the time. The regime murdered political opponents, the “educated” classes, and ethnic minorities. The Khmer Rouge emptied main cities and forced Cambodians to work in labor camps in the countryside and mass executions, abuse, disease, and malnutrition were pervasive.
Like Vietnam, Cambodia contains millions of unexploded landmines, and they are still dealing with the effects to this day. There are efforts to uncover the landmines, using metal detectors and specially trained rats who can sniff TNT, but it will still take years to completely clear the lands.
In Battambang province, I trekked to the Phnom Sampeau caves, nicknamed, “The Killing Caves.” These were execution sites used by the Khmer Rouge, and where they would discard bodies. I descended a cave and saw a glass case filled with skulls and bones of some of these victims.
It was eerie to come face to face with, but the cave now serves as a memorial site and a place of beauty once again. Near the bones was a large reclining Buddha statue, and inside the cave there was a monk who people visited to receive blessings from. Time and again during this trip, I felt the immense weight of witnessing the depths of human cruelty, but also the faith that reminded me that even the darkest times have an end date.
Coming out of the caves, the group and I descended from the small mountain and took seats on the street. There, we would wait for the sunset when the bats who dwell in one of the caves would wake up from their slumber and flit out for their daily hunt. It was a whole event, too. Hundreds of people had gathered to watch this, and there were even sellers walking around offering snacks and beers.
I watched the giant hole in the rock, and eventually started to hear the screeches of the bats waking up. Then it began. I watched millions of bats swarm out of the recesses of this cave and fly in wave-like unison. Small in size, they looked like little black dots flying through the air. Just when you thought that there couldn’t possibly be more bats located inside, they kept coming out. I have no other words but to say that it was so fucking cool!! Nature is truly magical.
Water Festival
Tonlé Sap is the largest freshwater lake in South East Asia and connects to the Mekong River. The lake is not only home to around 300 species of fish, but also 80,000–100,000 people who live on top of it. It is referred to as a “floating village,” and people live in floating homes and have to move their homes during certain times of the year based on the water levels.
Bon Om Touk is the annual Cambodian water festival, which celebrates the end of the rainy season, and also the change in flow of the Tonlé Sap. I was in Siem Reap during the festival, and I got to experience some of the festivities. Siem Reap is one of Cambodia’s largest cities, and some 300,000 people visit each year to celebrate the festival.
There were boat races, with people of all ages, happening along the Siem Reap River, and food vendors tightly lined the street along the river. There was also music, dancing, and carnival games and rides. One of the rides included the fastest ferris wheel I’ve ever seen, and it was frankly frightening to even watch. I considered going on but Hun, who probably didn’t want to be responsible for any untimely ends, strongly advised me against it.
Bowls of steaming soup with fish cakes; glossy stewed beef; spicy noodles served on banana leaves; crispy fried fish; freshly grilled prawns; octopus, and squid; fried rices; blended smoothies with fruit like avocado, dragon fruit and jackfruit; and thin pancakes filled with grilled gooey banana and Nutella, were just a few of the items you could eat along the strip. Was I in heaven? Absolutely.
At the festival, I saw many families, children, teenagers, and visitors joyously enjoying what it had to offer. At the same time, there were also amputees and children asking for money and trying to sell small objects. I felt sad to see these small children trying to hustle instead of playing games like other children there. It made me fall into the kind of existential questions that keep me up at night. Why does this stark juxtaposition exist in so many places? And when will we, as a species, acknowledge that all people deserve to have their basic needs met, and that doing so ultimately benefits society as a whole?
Although the poverty in Cambodia is very visible, there are some positive signs. Their poverty rate dropped from 33.8 percent to 17.8 percent over the ten-year period before 2020, and almost 2 million Cambodians escaped poverty. Salaries have also increased over time, though not as quickly as other neighboring countries.
I was only in Cambodia for a few days, but what I experienced was a beautiful and dynamic place filled with kind and welcoming people. I felt a strong energy while there, and I’m looking forward to seeing what is in store for this special country in the coming years.
Sak Yant Experience
On my last day in Cambodia, I spent most of the day walking around. I had already parted with the group and wished them well on their flights, and checked into a hostel for the night. I still had a journey to continue. I found myself gravitating into a tattoo shop, and looked through a book of designs. I was intrigued by the designs associated with Sak Yant, a traditional form of tattooing, which has origins in Cambodia and Thailand, and said to have magical powers for its wearers.
Designs can consist of phrases using the Pali language (which predates Khmer or Thai) and geometric designs which have specific meanings attached. It is done by hand poke, rather than by machine, and Sak Yant tattooists study with masters for years to learn the language and spiritual meaning behind the art.
After visiting that tattoo shop, I was suddenly fixated on the idea of finding a Sak Yank master, and getting a magical tattoo before I left. I did some research, and found a master whose shop wasn’t that far from where I was staying. It was raining on and off all day, and I went through the pour to get there.
There was a sign on the door that said that he would be back, so I decided to wait a few minutes. Eventually, a woman rode up to the shop on a motorbike, and told me that her husband was at the water festival, but would be back later, and told me to whatsapp him. I wasn’t sure if it was going to work out, but then many hours later he responded, and said he could tattoo me that evening.
I went over to the shop, and met Davin. He had studied Sak Yant for about 20 years, and had photos all over the walls of him with his masters and students. He was also covered in Sak Yant of course. We talked for some time because he wanted to know what kind of meaning I wanted on my body, and explained that certain spots on the body also held specific meanings. I’m not going to go into great detail of what I told him I wanted, but I’ll say very generally that this design was all about love, peace, and protection.
It was a tattoo experience unlike any I’ve had before. Prior to starting, Davin said some prayers, and instructed me to repeat a prayer after him. I sat in the tattoo chair, and we began. In this small room, I watched his wife and 3-year-old son hanging out. Davin’s brother was also there because Davin was training him. Then later, even more people joined. A few women, who I believe were also in his family, sisters or aunts maybe, had just come back from the festival, stopped by, and all took a seat on the ground to eat take-out and chat.
I never expected to be tattooed with a 3 year old around, but it was sort of cool because he didn’t care at all. He was cuddling with his mom and watching videos on her phone. This moment was also indicative of many I had experienced in SE Asia. On the whole, children felt much more integrated into their parents’ lives, and to society in general. I couldn’t imagine getting a tattoo in NY for instance, and ever seeing an artist’s young child hanging out while it was happening.
I had only ever gotten tattoos with an electric needle, but this one was hand poked. It was a different kind of pain, but not unbearable. I spoke to Davin a lot throughout the tattoo, and learned about his life. I could feel his passion for the art, and his pride in preserving it all while the world kept moving and changing.
Things were going well. Then, the power went out. Nobody flinched, so I assumed this kind of thing happened often. The women left, to go home I suppose, and Davin explained to me that the power likely went out because the festival had overwhelmed the grid. We waited for some time and it didn’t seem like the power would come back anytime soon.
The solution? Davin’s wife turned on her phone flashlight and illuminated my back while Davin finished. After some time, the power came back on again and the tattoo was completed. It was a chaotic experience, and I enjoyed every silly little minute of it because it felt so alive. I thanked them both for the tattoo, and the experience, and then was on my way.
It surprised me, but I actually felt a bit sad to leave. Even in those few hours, I felt like I had shared some kind of bond and funny memory with them, and wanted to learn more about their lives. But I was leaving the next day, and had to move on. I felt good walking out of the shop. Not only from the high that comes after getting new ink, but from the joy that I was carrying protection magic with me.
My next week would be solo. For the first time, I wouldn’t be with a group or with a friend, and having protection magic with me felt like a good way to go into it. Chiang Mai, Thailand was next, and it ended up being one of my favorite weeks of the trip.
And now I gotta write about that… Once I do though, you’ll see it here! Love you all, and thank you so so much to everyone that has been reading along ❤
Read: Part IV
