Windwalker's Mountain Post: Of Temples and Monks

I have begun to write an epic poem that tells of the experiences of the last 24 hours. It is hardly begun, so you will have to settle now for a short sketch and some pictures. Let me frame this by telling that the heat and humidity are relentless and oppressive. Yesterday, our guide San picked us up at 5:30a.m. We drove out to the ticketing place for a 1 day temple tour. This included a picture taken to be printed on the ticket. Then, as pilgrims, we proceeded to the temple of Angkor Wat. With literally hundreds of others we situated ourselves (in our case on the stone walls of the library) to watch the sun rise over this temple. It is difficult to explain the temples. They are made of sandstone and most are in bad repair...nevertheless, they are magnificent. The Intricacy of the carvings, stonework, and story telling is just mind bending. UNESCO has come to help with restoration work which is ongoing. The United States, as well as other countries have contributed money and expertise toward these efforts as well.
Pictures that we can take do little justice to the enormity of the temples. Our guide is so wise. He put us in every place and toured us through each one in a way to minimize congestion and heat, as much as possible. During this day we visited Ankgor Wat, Ta Prohm (and let us say that Ta Prohm was the filming site of the movie Tomb Raiders starring Angelina Jolie...we can't wait to get home and see it now). There are some incredibly huge Sang trees wound around the ruins. The faces at Angkor Thom and the Bayon (which were first Hindu and then hundreds of years later became Buddhist temples) are beautiful. The Bayon encloses 54 towers decorated with more than 200 enigmatically smiling stone faces.
To back track a minute, it was at Angkor Wat, our first temple, that I experienced a Buddhist ambush. Trailing slightly behind San and Pam, I was looking for good photo ops. As we passed through an arch, I noticed a bit of color and smelled burning joss sticks in a side corridor. I turned in to investigate. Immediately a man came out of the shadows and placed two joss sticks in my hand saying, "welcome! Come in here." I started to say no thanks and back up but he repeated his invitation to come in, so I did. Still with joss sticks in hand he brought me before a sitting Buddha. "Now you must kneel and bow three times". I did that, because now I'm in a position of no return. "So now, you must touch the Buddha foot and then touch forehead, for luck." I did that, but now I'm getting nervous about where my companions are as they did not see me drop off into this side gallery. "Now you put joss sticks in sand bowl. You will have much good luck." I put the joss sticks in the sand, and the man unfolds a sash that is across the Buddhas chest and says, "Now you can leave something for Buddha." I leave a dollar and scram. As I turn into the main corridor, the man has ambushed another two tourists. They already have joss sticks in their hands. I hurry to find Pam and San, but don't tell about the Buddha ambush until later. Did I mention that the heat and humidity are relentless?
After lunch we drive out to the monastery where we will spend the rest of the day and overnight. We assume our guide and driver will dump us out and come back in the late morning after meditation. Thankfully, this is not the case. Not only has a guard been hired to sit outside our room (company policy when we are not staying in approved lodging), but San is staying overnight too.
We meet our teacher monk...San, like our guide. He is patient and kind and his skin glows a rich brown, his eyes sparkle and invite friendship and ease. We sit under a tree in chairs, sweat rolling down our faces and soaking ou clothes. We listen, ask questions, share family stories. After an hour or so, we tour around the monastery. It is a small one. The ground is dusty and thirsty. We meet the head monk who is also kind and smiling. He talks about growing older, aches and pains, and his failing eye sight. His cell phone rings, conversation pauses as he answers.
The heat is oppressive, and we walk to the meditation center...the section for nuns. We are staying in a room here. San will stay in a room nearby. Until evening chanting, nothing is happening. It is too hot. Pam is not doing well. In our room there are two mats in the floor. A thin mattress on each...a sheet and a pillow. A mosquito net covers each mattress. No fan. No moving air at all. We do have in room toilet...it doesn't flush. There is a large cistern of water alongside the toilet. One dips two bowls of water to dump down the toilet to constitute flushing. San has put a cooler with ice and water and soft drinks in our room. Several people have asked if we will be OK with rice and fish at the breakfast meal. Note ( says our itinerary): The monks have their last meal at 11AM. No dinner is planned for the evening; Buffalo Tours will however prepare snacks and fruits, which they have...a large bag full. We are too hot to eat.
San goes off to visit his aunt. We are alone among the monks and nuns. Pam needs to lie down. I say come outside and sit on our steps...not much better, but inside the room is very hot and stuffy. Now, Pam is too sick to sit outside. She lies down under her mosquito net. I soak bandanas in ice water from the cooler, pack her head and neck and go outside to drink water and watch.
The few nuns visible are moving slowly, finishing laundry, sweeping walkways. It is quiet. A voice from next door says, "Hello." I look. There is a young girl (maybe 20 something) in a wheel chair. After a few minutes she wheels herself to the bottom of my steps. She asks about my friend. Sick, I say. Resting. Very hot she says.
Her English is halting, but enough so we can talk. My Khmer, of course is non existent. She decides to teach me a bit. I learn to say "Hello," "How are you?" " Thank you." We laugh together at my learning. In a minute, I can only remember, thank you--Acun...the heat has boiled the rest away. The girl tells me she lives with her aunt here. Her mother is dead, and although she tries to help out at home, he father will only pay for a year of schooling. Her step-mother is mean to her everyday. She is angry because the girl can only sit in her chair. So she comes to live with her aunt as part of the lay community.
We sit quietly in the heat. Her aunt passes by several times. I smile. Finally she comes over. We smile and nod. I ask the girl to say hello...we laugh at my attempt. The aunt looks at me with bald curiosity. They talk, giggle, and the aunt comes to sit below me on the steps. The two women talk again. "My aunt say your feet very white." I look down. My feet look like worms that have never seen the light of day. Very white, I agree. Brown skin good for sun...white skin better for snow. The aunt and girl talk again. The girl looks at me, says something. I nod and the aunt touches and rubs my foot. We laugh. VERY white, the girl reports for her aunt. Then she asks about my teeth...yes real. No braces, just grew this way. I comment they both have nice teeth. The aunt rubs my foot some more. Shadows lengthen. The girl and her aunt go home.
I sit until near dark. San comes back from his aunts, checks in...says good night. I use the non-flush toilet and roll I under my mosquito net. Pam has heat stroke and there is no relief. We both lie under netting, doing the Buddhist thing--following our breath--in, out...trying to center and become calm. Finally I drift off to sleep. It is dark, but then I hear drums and singing. The monks. I get up thinking it is early morning. No, it's 10:15 p.m. I go back to bed. Sweat, breathe, fall into twilight numbness...Quiet. Then drumming and singing.
All of the dogs in the monastery begin barking...that lasts a long time. Then quiet. I hear the guard arrive on his motorbike. A chair scrapes. He is in position. Despite the heat, San says our doors must be closed for safety...just a precaution...there is only one open window. No breeze. I think that I doze off and on, but not sure. All of a sudden loud gonging outside. I know that means wake for chanting. I open the door. Nothing moves. It is very dark except for a night lantern that flickers on the porch of one of the nuns. There is no more sound. It's 3:30a.m. I get back under mosquito netting and stretch out to sweat more.
Drumming, instruments, singing starts up. Monks must chant to canned music, I think. I drift back into suspended sweating. Then, more gongs. These are passing through the meditation center. I get up again. It's 5:30 a.m. San says time to go to hear the novice monks chant. We get up, all clothes are on and soaked. It is dark. We walk the road between the meditation center and the monastery by flashlight.
We watch the head monk light the candles around the Buddha icons. He is listening to a dharma lesson on his small tv. In the distant background, drums, singing, noise. All dogs get up and bark. Wedding celebration San tells us. Ohh, I think. Monks do not chant all night to canned music. Good. The wedding party will go on for 3 or 5 days. The bride and groom get very tired, says San. He knows as he was just married last year during wedding season. Later, as we drive to our hotel, we see the wedding procession filing down the street. People dressed in suits and brightly colored brocades in single file. They carry bowls of rice and other gifts. At the head of the line walk the bride and groom. Ahead of them the musicians with flutes, strings, drums. Ahead of them, the photographer. They are going to the banquet hall. It is still hot.
Like shadows, the baby monks come in. A dog guards the chanting space. He is wise and knows what goes on. The head monk's cell phone rings. He talks. More monks assemble. Quiet, then the head monk says some words in Pali, and the chanting begins in response. It is beautiful, soothing, ancient. After an hour of chanting, we have talked with San. He understands Pam is sick and needs the cool of the hotel. He has been awake since 2:00. He calls our driver. When the chanting ends, we excuse ourselves. Say good- bye, receive a blessing for safety and long lives for ourselves and our families, then we get in the car and drive to the hotel.
We have our room back. San makes everything go smoothly. We shower and Pam crashes in bed. I begin writing my epic poem. The door knocks, and room service delivers a beautiful lotus plant...from San. After lunch, we return to our room. Pam is better. Now I crash with tiredness. I sleep. The door knocks. Room service again...this time with a bottle of wine and a fruit plate...from our tour company. The country manager has also called to make sure we were OK and did we need anything. Amazing.
Later on we swim in the deep blue infinity pool. Delicious, we think. Overhead soft pines sway gracefully in the wind which is gathering storm clouds. We have a lovely dinner. Tomorrow San will come at 11:25 and we will be off to Bangkok where we will stay overnight, close to the airport. then, an early morning flight to Tokyo, Dallas, Denver. End of story...or this part anyway. Thank you for traveling with us. P.S. we are both well, recovered and happy to be coming home. San says, tell all friends and family... Cambodia a very safe and beautiful place to visit.
Angkor Wat at dawn