Circuitous
11/19/2007
This morning we headed to the dock and boarded a couple of boats to take us across the Tonle Sap. The trip down current was smooth and calm on the gentle olive drab waters. I didn’t ask how deep it was there, but there were many trees sticking up through the water, so I imagine it’s not more than a few feet here. During the dry season I would think this area is land locked.
On the other side we were met by a mass of motor scooter taxis and one tuk tuk. We boarded our rides and rode to our destination several kilometers inland on a fairly smooth, red, dirt road; passing school children on foot and on bicycles, ox pulled carts, and water buffalo. Getting to a small village at a Y in the road we all stopped and the head moto taxi man asked me if we should make the turn. I told him we should wait for the much slower tuk tuk that Sopheap was riding in with four of his clients.
When the tuk tuk arrived Sopheap decided we should walk the rest of the way as the road quickly deteriorated and the tuk tuk would not be able to pass easily. We were met by dozens of children and a few adults on the kilometer walk through the village and into the rice fields. Carefully we picked our route through to a hill with an ancient temple atop, our destination.
This was a pisat, a temple built in the seventh century or so believed by archeologists studying its design and carvings. This stone brick and block structure rises about fifty feet in the air, is crumbling on all sides, and is covered in grasses on its horizontal surfaces. There is a small room inside whose contents have long been pillaged. I’m told by the moto taxi chief that this one is the male temple. The female temple is a few kilometers away and two others have been destroyed, one by the Khmer Rouge and the other by time and nature.
On the walk back one of the kids tries to trip me and runs off before I can give him a noogie. If I hadn’t been wearing my comfy new slippers he’d have been crying uncle in multiple languages. The rest of the walk back had me checking my backside in case anyone wanted to push me into the muddy fields.
We then headed back to the motos and off to the female temple. This one was bordered by some houses next to the rice fields. Next to it by mere inches is a cement structure built in the last few years. This ugly beast was meant to compliment the pisat, but I found its gaudiness revolting. Also on this pisat were cement restorations. Again I found this objectionable. It would be like inking over the US Constitution because it was fading, but not knowing the language.
We had lunch here of fried rice brought from the breakfast restaurant. After lunch we pulled out some mangos and I pulled out the pocket knife Ali gave me for this trip. I was asked if this was my “seal killing knife.” After lunch I boarded the tuk tuk for a bumpy ride back to the docks.
Back at Kampong Chhnang we boarded the bus again for the trip to Battambang. It took us longer than I had hoped, over three hours. On the way I got a call from uncle Chheang which I didn’t answer because I was sure he was only checking up on me and I didn’t want this to become a regular occurrence. He then called Sopheap to ask why I didn’t answer. At that point I was ready to ditch the cell phone and move to Kampong Chhnang just for privacy’s sake.
I’m not sure why, but I cannot stand having someone check up on me, especially family members. It irks me to no end. I would rather just disappear, never to be found, than to have to answer the phone and say I’m in one piece more than once a month. Maybe it stems from that one time my mom moved to Atlanta with my brother while I stayed behind in Iowa. She wrote me a letter which was read by everyone in the house before reaching my hands. I promptly torched it with a lighter after reading it. The desire for privacy has never left me.
We arrived in Battambang at dusk with me tired, hungry, and fully soaked in sweat from the earlier excursion. We pulled up to the hotel to find out that again, Sopheap did not make a reservation for himself and the driver, and the hotel was fully booked. And instead of going off in search of another place to stay he decided to just sit the ninety minutes and wait to take the clients to dinner as by then most places will charge a lower rate. I wasn’t very happy and spent the time outside playing snakes on my cell phone. But I wasn’t paying for anything so I didn’t say anything. By the time we reboarded the bus I was calmer and able to speak again.
Dinner was fairly poor in taste and we returned to the hotel at 9pm. After dropping off the clients we drove to three different hotels before finding one with decent parking for a bus and available rooms for a reasonable price. Not a great start to my return, but tomorrow promises to be a new day.
November 20th, 2007 at 12:48 pm
When they asked about your seal killing knife, you corrected them by saying we club seals with bats, not stab them with knives right? Hope the rest of your week excursion turns out better.