OK OK OK, it’s been a little while since I last wrote. But I have a good excuse.
The past two weeks I’ve been traveling in Thailand and Cambodia, two countries to which I’d never been. Eleven hours time difference and seemingly a world away, the trip required my undivided attention to soak in the colors, smells, and feeling of both places. The sounds of zipping motorbikes, the saccharine rush of Thai iced coffee, dripping in sweetened condensed milk, the heady brew of street markets, brimming with roasted pork, steaming dumplings, ripe mangosteens, piles of aromatic herbs. In short: not a time for one’s laptop.
There is so much to say about this experience in a region in which, though not unacquainted, I am certainly a neophyte. There are seemingly “bonnes adresses” around every corner. But I guess I’ll start with one of the most recognizable and moving sights on this present adventure.
Touch down in Siem Reap, Cambodia: I’ve come to see Angkor Wat.
The airport is about an hour away from the small city, which is the closest gateway to the massive temple complex. I arrive in the evening, and a young, kind Grab driver takes me through the darkness to my home for the next few nights: the Raffles Grand Hotel d’Angkor. The Raffles is a stately colonial holdover, impeccably kept and with kind service. It maintains the original elevator from it’s opening in 1932. It is not necessary to spend as much money on a hotel in this part of the world to have as lovely a time, but what the hell: YOAWO.
Exhausted from a week of work and sight-seeing in Bangkok (more on that later), I thought I’d let myself wake the next morning naturally, and not put pressure on myself to make the fabled sunrise view of Angkor Wat. If it had to wait to the following day, it could wait. But when my jetlagged corpse found itself naturally alert around 4:30 the following morning, I decided to make hay while the sun was down. I threw on a dress and shoes, jumped in a tuk-tuk and made my way to the complex.
“Angkor Wat” is shorthand for a massive complex of temples, which includes Angkor Wat as the largest within the constellation (tuk-tuk or bike is recommended to travel between the different temples). Former seat of the Khmer empire, it was first built as a Hindu temple complex in the 1100s that was converted later to Theravada Buddhism. It is the largest religious site in the world.
When I arrived in the pre-dawn hours, it began to drizzle. October is toward the end of the rainy season in Cambodia, and the delicate rainfall only added to the atmospherics. A small but steady stream of people were, like me, making their way to the western entrance gate to see the sunrise. Somewhere in the distance, soft religious music was playing. Even with others around, the experience was one of solitude.
The sky began to lighten, and then the first rays of sun peeked through the clouds. The temple became backlit by a riot of pinks, oranges, and golden yellows. Even cast against a rainy sky, the effect was spiritual. Nearly everyone, umbrellas aloft, stopped in their tracks to be still, and behold.
Photos are incapable of conveying the scale and depth of the Angkor Wat temple complex, or the feeling of standing amidst this man-made expression of devotion that is surrounded on all sides by encroaching emerald jungle. The weathered sandstone, streaked black and brown from centuries of rainy seasons, stands starkly against the bright green of Cambodia.
Another surprise was the detail across nearly every surface. Reliefs and carvings coat the enormous complex, making you wonder how they ever managed to complete this long before electricity.
As the rain continued to fall gently, I made my way by tuk-tuk to my next stop: Ta Prohm. Still part of the Angkor Wat Archeological Park, Ta Prohm is a smaller temple famed in part because it features in the Lara Croft: Tomb Raider films. When I arrived, I was the only one there, save for an older woman sweeping the pathway with a broom made of pliant sticks.
In its quiet way (maybe because I was there alone), Ta Prohm felt even more moving. You may recognize it from pictures: trees have grown up, around, and sometimes through the temple, extending their gnarly tendrils gracefully around the stone. Maybe I was just tired. But as I approached the temple, with only the sound of raindrops around me, I began to cry.
I said a silent prayer, as I often do, in no particular religious tradition, expressing gratitude for this moment. What a gift to be in this place, on this quiet rainy morning. To see so much of this richly layered, beautiful world. That these places make their soft but indelible carvings on my heart, just like the reliefs enwrapping Angkor Wat.
I took big inhales walking through Ta Prohm, hoping somehow to internalize the atmosphere, the solitude. When I was done, I stepped gratefully into a waiting tuk-tuk, and sped back to Siem Reap—cool, rainy season wind on my face. All this before breakfast.
