Smiling monk astride a white horse, with a large gold begging bowl.

Smiling mounted monk ~ with his begging bowl.

Far up in the hills of  the Golden Triangle, in the Mae Chan region of Chiang Rai Province in Thailand, there is a temple where the monks do their morning alms rounds not on foot, but on horse-back, and where kickboxing (Muay Thai) practice is as important a part of their daily routine as meditation and chanting the sutras.

The temple is home to a number of nehn (young novices), many of them Burmese refugees, most of them orphans; a few monks and nuns; about 200 hundred horses and a scattering of elephants, cows and buffalo. How it came to be there reads like the plot of one of those Chinese folk stories: you know, the ones where the heros are fast and smart and pure of heart; where the villainous powerlords bully defenseless villagers; where warriors, cloaked in black, scale walls and descend into fortressses under the cover of darkness; and where anyone can take on demon form and fly through the air to engage in hand-to-hand battles of epic proportions.

Almost fifty years ago, so the story goes, in the northwestern-most corner of Thailand, an ethnic Tai Lue woman desperately wanted to have a child. She had already lost five babies in their infancy, and so she went to the ancient Lanna temple on the nearby mountain of Doi Tung to pray to the Buddha image there and ask for assistance. Some nights later, she dreamt that a white horse came and carried her away – for miles and miles. Shortly after, it was confirmed that she was pregnant.

The child, Samer Jaipinta, was a fussy baby, crying all the time, so the parents consulted an astrologer. The astrologer told them that the child was “not normal” and needed an elephant and a horse as guardians. Naturally, Samer’s farming parents could not afford this, so his father drew pictures of the animals above the door of their home and taught the child that these animals were his friends and protectors.

Samer took up Muay Thai at thirteen. Inspired by the warrior spirits of the fighting cocks his father raised, he became a champion fighter, who, according to one report, only ever lost three fights out of the hundreds he entered. He studied law in Bangkok, but gave up to join the cavalry when his father died. By age thirty, he was married, with children, and about to challenge for the Muay Thai world championship, when he gave it all up to go to fast and meditate, sitting on a rock in the forests of Mae Sai for 15 days. Wasps nested on his body: “It was as though they were my teachers. Each time I couldn’t focus, they would sting me.”

He ordained as a monk, underwent four days of ritual and protective tattooing and spent the next six years travelling through those mountainous border regions, providing pastoral care in an area where people, gems, arms, and drugs slip through the jungles to and from Myanmar. He witnessed first-hand the impact of violence, fear and drug addiction on the mountain villages in the wake of the wars between the drug lords. He founded the Monastery of The Golden Horse, giving a home to young boys who might otherwise end up as recruits in United Wa State Army. He teaches his novices Muay Thai in addition to more usual dhamma teachings, and together they ride out into the countryside, educating people against the dangers of drugs, and using their martial arts skills when required.

His ongoing battle against drug growing and trafficking has earned him the support of the Thai army and the disapprobation of the powerful drug lords. Stories are told of his miraculous survival against numerous attacks and assassination attempts. He sees no other option: “I have to live my life in an honest and direct way,” he says. “My life is like a candle and provides light for those around me. If it blows out, this is fate, and nothing can be done about fate.”

Monks on horseback collect food, water and other goods from supporters.

The morning alms collection at Wat Pra Aacha Tong is "Unseen" anywhere else in Thailand.

Monk in glasses with his alms bowl, riding a brown horse.

... make these quiet monks invincible.

Close-up: tattooed monk

Protective tattoos plus Muay Thai...

Close-up: sandel-clad male foot in a horse stirrup

Sandle-clad monks in the saddle.

Thai Buddhist monk on a white horse, collecting donations

One of the fabled white horses keeps watch.

View through trees: Monk on horseback collecting donations.

Alms Rounds

Close-up: Dappled gray horse (head) eating corn on the cob.

The horses get their breakfast; I have never seen horses eat corn-on-the-cob so daintily!

Portrait: two middle-aged Thai women

These women have travelled from the other side of the country to pay their respects.

Portrait: Nehn or Thai buddhist novice

Little Nehn (Novice)

Gold-painted statue of a muay thai warrior on a red podium.

Muay Thai, like other Asian martial arts, has a strong spiritual component.

Muddy white pony tied in front of palm trees and rough buildings.

Lone Pony

Scene: back of a thai monk on horseback, village people sitting on plastic stools with hands in prayer.

After the alms rounds, the morning dhamma talk, with prayers, is conducted outdoors.

Thai people sitting outdoors on plastic chairs with their hands in prayer.

People come from near and far for morning prayers.

Thai monk with a begging bowl and twenty baht notes.

After prayers, faithful swap hundred-baht notes for twenty-baht notes that have been specially blessed.

Portrait: Smiling Thai monk

A beautiful smile comes with the blessings.

A thai twenty baht note with mystical red drawings and writing.

The twenty baht notes have numbers deemed to be lucky.

The wat (temple), unlike most, is not ornate. Phra Kru Ba Neua Chai, as he is now known, persuades the locals to put their money into schools and orphanages and teachers’ salaries, rather than into elaborate temples.

Text: Keep smilingHe was not there the morning we visited in October, but his positive energy was all around us. By all accounts, he is a striking man, doing his bit for his corner of the country.

I like stories with a happy ending.  ‘Till next time.

 

  • Lisa Brockman - December 1, 2011 - 8:03 pm

    Really lovely post Ursula – a great story! Thanks for sharing.ReplyCancel

  • Signe Westerberg - December 1, 2011 - 11:41 pm

    Fantastic, you’ve managed to share with us places most will never see and describe them in such a way one almost feels as though they were there…thank youReplyCancel

    • Ursula - December 2, 2011 - 1:27 am

      Greetings, Signe and Lisa!
      So nice to have you along for the “ride”. 😉ReplyCancel

  • […] first markets we visited that day were local ones. After “making merit” with the horse-riding monks early in the morning and visiting the Royal Mae Fah Luang Gardens at Doi Tung, we stopped to […]ReplyCancel

  • Tan Beng Huat - May 16, 2015 - 4:32 am

    Dear Monks,
    I am very ill with depression. Can you please perform
    some rituals to cast out the demons in me.
    Thank you.
    Regards.
    From: Tan Beng Huat.
    Malaysia.ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - May 16, 2015 - 4:48 am

      I am very sorry to hear you are unwell. Good luck with your recovery.ReplyCancel

  • AJ Zulaybar - July 20, 2016 - 7:08 am

    hello Ursula,

    I was wondering how i would be able to get in touch with the monks and do you think they are willing to train people in Muay Thai?ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - July 21, 2016 - 1:23 am

      Hi AJ,
      I’m not sure if these monks train anyone other than their novices – and most of them don’t speak or read English! Still, there are plenty of good Muay Thai gyms around Thailand, so it’s not hard to get started. 😀ReplyCancel

  • Jesline Teh - May 14, 2017 - 1:41 pm

    Hi, we will be traveling from Bangkok to chiangrai by air. Is there a local agent that can arrange to bring us to wat pra archa tong?ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - May 14, 2017 - 5:24 pm

      Hi Jesline,
      Thanks for the visit! I’m pretty sure any Chiang Rai travel agent will be able to get you there. We visited as part of a day tour in the area. Enjoy!ReplyCancel

There is something special about being a “visitor” instead of a “tourist” when you are travelling: getting a glimpse into the real, everyday lives of ordinary people, rather than the “show homes” set up by tour operators.

Khmer mother, three daughters and son seated on a grass mat in a bamboo house.

Portrait: A Rural Khmer Family, Proyyut Village, Cambodia

Let me introduce you to an “average” rural Khmer family: Mum and her four children.

I met Sony, the eldest of the four siblings, the first morning I visited Sandan School. She’s a bright girl, and was lucky enough to be chosen to attend the Jay Pritzker Academy (JPA), an American school which provides free schooling, uniforms and materials to about 365 students in the local area.

Portrait: Adolescent Khmer girl in her white school uniform polo shirt.

Fourteen-year old Sony is a student at JPA.

Sony is delightfully self-possessed and easy to talk to. Her schooling may account for some of this: JPA’s vision is to be “the best school in Cambodia and competitive with the best schools worldwide” while keeping students integrated with their local communities and cultural values. Her English is excellent, and we were able to chat about a range of topics: from health, education, and social issues in Cambodia, to the country’s history, and her personal plans for the future.

I later discovered that Sony’s youngest sister, Nana (age 5), was one of the students I had focussed on in the Sandan School first grade classroom.

Young khmer girl in school uniform with a straw broom.

Nana Sweeping

Five Khmer children look out from their dark first-grade classroom.

Nana and her classmates at their first-grade classroom window.

First-grade children in a Cambodian classroom.

Nana in the Classroom

As part of the photo-tour I was participating in (under the guidance of Karl GroblMarco RyanGavin Gough and Matt Brandon), I was expected to create a photographic essay with another group participant. We wanted to focus on one student: at home and at school. Having Sony as our guide and liaison made this possible, and we arranged to visit Nana and Sony at their home in a neighbouring village.

It was raining the first afternoon we went to visit. When we turned off the last bit of asphalt and onto a slippery red dirt road with potholes big enough to swallow our tuk-tuk, our driver showed serious reluctance about continuing. Sony had given him directions, but we still had to stop several times to ask for directions. There were no signposts and the lots were not numbered.

The family lives in a bamboo house on stilts, next door to a similar house on the same farming allotment, belonging to a member of their extended family. I was grateful I was wearing plastic shoes: there was no “driveway” – the houses are reached by picking your way over the least-wet patches of ground.

Corrugated iron house in a wet field, coconut trees, green.

Sony and Nana's home in Proyyut Village, Cambodia.

Corrugated iron house on stilts

Corrugated iron house on stilts: no windows, ladder entry

Close-up: rusted corrugated iron house siding.

Rusty corrugated-iron house siding.

Middle aged khmer woman sitting in a bamboo house

Auntie next door, with her baskets. The red marks on her forehead are from hot-cupping, a local remedy for headache and other ailments.

The families grow rice for their own consumption. As Sony said: if they sold it, they would not have enough for next season’s planting. Auntie owns the land. She makes baskets which she sells at the local market for 100 reils (KHR) each: about two cents American. Sony and Nana’s mother also weaves baskets when she has finished tending the rice and other crops. She has been widowed for three years now: Sony and Nana’s father died of stomach problems in 2008, leaving mum to manage on her own. Sony still finds it hard to talk about him, but showed me the shrine with his picture in it in a corner of the “living room”.

Portrait: Smiling Khmer woman

Mum at Home

Portrait: elderly Khmer woman

Gran lives close by. She came over to get a look at the strangers.

Two khmer girls in a hammock under the house.

Nana and her sister at home: a hammock under the house.

Nana’s middle sister Srai Ranoch is in grade four at Sandan School. Her class attends in the afternoons, while Nana’s is in the morning, so they are not actually in school at the same time. They are fortunate to have Sony at JPA because it relieves some of the financial pressure on the family. Even though schooling is free, each child is expected to contribute towards tests and materials. While this contribution is small, it represents a huge proportion of the meagre family income. Their brother, who is thirteen, dropped out of school three years ago to help Mum with the fields. Sometimes he is able to earn a little money helping the neighbours.

A khmer boy and girl squat under a house with their dog

Nana and her brother

Four khmer children in the communal space under a house.

Cousins: Foreign visitors are uncommon in this little village, so the cousins next door have come over for a look.

Young Khmer girl dancing with her dog on a patch of muddy ground.

Nana dancing with her dog.

The second time we went to visit, the sun came out, and with it came even more of the neighbouring children. They all led us on a wonderful excursion through the rice patties and fields that comprise their back yard.

Small khmer child climbing a coconut palm

Cousin up a Tree

Young khmer boy picking coconuts from a tree

Getting fresh coconut for the visitors.

Afternoon light, faint rainbow, over Cambodian rice fields

Afternoon rainbow in the rice fields.

Close-up: Blue and brown toad in clods of dirt

Blue Toad

Young rice growing in wet fields.

Summer Rice

Back view: Man in a cloth flap hat tilling the rice fields

Worker tilling the rice fields

Portrait of a Khmer toddler against yellow-green of new rice.

Girl in a rice field

Khmer farmer in a blue shit guiding three white cows.

Bringing in the cows.

Three Cambodian females squatting at the edge of a water-filled rice patty.

Time for a chat: Sony, Nana and their cousin take time out.

Falling light on afternoon rice fields

End of the day: afternoon on the rice patties.

To the Future (text)We were grateful to Sony and her family for letting us visit, and giving us an insight into their lives.

I hope they both continue to study hard and build a better future for themselves and their family.

 

(Sony’s story, in her own words, can be found HERE in the SoundSlide presentation one of my co-participants and I put together.)

 

 

  • Lisa Brockman - November 26, 2011 - 2:19 pm

    Lovely, Ursula! Wonderful story and images!ReplyCancel

  • Signe Westerberg - November 27, 2011 - 11:38 pm

    These lovely people seem so lovely and have so little… bless them and their generosity and wonderful smiles.ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - November 28, 2011 - 12:21 am

      Hi Lisa and Signe!
      These people have such sadness in their pasts and difficulty in their presents, but they still make it so easy to make pictures around them. It was a joy to visit them. 🙂ReplyCancel

  • Anthea - December 11, 2011 - 11:27 am

    love all these photos so much 🙂ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - December 11, 2011 - 1:37 pm

      Thanks, Anthea! The people make it easy ~ the dark houses make lighting a nightmare. 😉ReplyCancel

  • sanan - May 15, 2012 - 10:43 am

    I love all the people and picture .it great and wonderful .ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - May 15, 2012 - 1:02 pm

      Thanks, Sanan!
      It’s great to have your company for the trip. 🙂ReplyCancel

  • lissillour - October 18, 2013 - 2:46 pm

    A very moving testimony of the reality of life Cambodge.Chaque family has its own story more or less happy, but this country has a very difficult to forgive recent history.
    But Cambodians are very intelligent and hardworking people.
    Thank you for this story that I for one am also on FLICKR.ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - October 18, 2013 - 9:27 pm

      Thanks for your visit, Georges. It is true: there is still a real sadness in the country. But the people are wonderful – I love visiting.ReplyCancel

Teenage girl in uniform on a bicycle, pedalling her younger brother into Sandan School, Cambodia

Coming into School in the Morning – Sandan School, Cambodia

Cambodia is a youthful country with a sad history.

One third of the country’s 15 million people (32.2%) is under the age of fifteen (July 2011 est.).

Given the genocide perpetrated by Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge between 1975-1979 when two million Cambodians were killed, it is not surprising that less than 4% of the population is 65 or over. During the Khmer Rouge regime, educated people were targeted in the name of “agrarian socialism”. Thousands of teachers were amongst those executed after the fall of Phnom Penh in 1975.

So, the education system had to rebuild from scratch, along with the rest of the country’s infrastructure, and this could only start properly after the end of the civil war in 1990. Today, there are a lot of children – and still too few educated adults. This puts a lot of pressure on the country’s schools. On average, students stay in school for ten years, attending half a day of classes (four hours), either in the morning or in the afternoon, six days a week. Those who can afford it also attend evening “tutoring” classes. A number of parents told me that many teachers put all their energy into these tutoring classes; they said that teachers ignore the curriculum during their normal classes so that students have to pay the extra if they wish to pass the exams. If true, this is disappointing, but, given teachers’ pay scales and work loads, not terribly surprising.

I’ve visited Cambodia a number of times in the past to participate in an annual professional conference for the local teachers. This latest trip, however, was for me – I was there with my camera and with four gifted professional photographers: Karl GroblMarco RyanGavin Gough and Matt Brandon. Still, I couldn’t resist visiting a local school, to see what was happening.

Children in school uniform walk and cycle to the gates of Sandan School, Cambodia

Arriving at School in the Morning – Sandan School, Cambodia

As you’d expect, the schoolyard in the morning is a lively place. Children arrive early: on foot, on oversized bicycles, ferried by their older siblings, or piled onto motorcycles or scooters driven by parents on their way to work. Children buy snack food from local vendors. They sweep the rooms and the yard, and unstack the desks in the classrooms. The boys play tag or marbles in the packed-dirt yard, while the girls skip or play a local version of Jacks on the veranda – all before the bell rings at eight o’clock.

Two khmer boys squatting on dirt, playing marbles

Boys flicking marbles. The object seems to be both distance and knocking your opponent out of play – like curling or boules.

Small hand holding six cat

A good marble-flicker shows off his winnings: a collection of cat’s eyes.

Two young khmer girls squatting to play a game like jacks.

Young girls playing a game resembling jacks with coloured bits of plastic.

Khmer girls in school uniform playing elastics on a school verandah.

Skipping elastics on the verandah.

Detail: Young girl

Fancy Footwork

Khmer boys in school uniform sweeping a packed-dirt school yard.

Sweeping the yard? These boys aren’t very focussed, but the job got done.

Colourful plastic flip-flops lined up on a school step.

No shoes indoors!

Young khmer girls in school uniform sweep a school verandah.

Preparing for the day: young girls sweep the verandah.

Portrait: Young Khmer girl with a plastic food bag.

First-grader with her snack-in-a-baggie.

Young khmer boy stands in a classroom doorway.

Too young for class : Younger siblings hang around the classrooms.

Portrait: Khmer boy with a soft-drink in a plastic cup on a school verandah

Kids love the camera! The camera loves kids!

Three young boys look out the barred window of their Khmer classroom

Boys – waiting in the classroom.

Khmer teacher at the open door of her classroom.

The teacher is here – the class is ready.

(Recorded classroom sound-bite)

Teacher with a pointer teaching khmer letter combinations.

Learning letters and spelling rules

Wide angle view of a Cambodian first-grade classroom.

Kids in the Classroom

Khmer girl writing letters on a personal chalkboard.

Careful work. (When was the last time you saw a chalkboard?)

Khmer children at wooden desks writing on personal chalkboards.

Checking Answers

Portrait: Young Khmer boy with his green chalk-board

Proud of his work…

Portrait: Solemn-faced khmer girl with a chalkboard

“I think it is correct.”

Simple plastic-covered flashcards hanging from a classroom ceiling from wool threads.

Flashcards hang along the ceiling.

First-grade khmer children giving their teacher reals for their classroom tests.

Children are expected to pay for their classroom tests and materials.

Portrait: Khmer teacher in her classroom doorway.

End of class… until the afternoon children arrive.

Foreground: Wheel rim used as a school bell. Background: children leaving.

End of the school day… except for the extra tutorial classes.

It is always a joy to visit Cambodia. In general, the people are gentle mannered, softly spoken, and welcoming. The Cambodian teachers I’ve met at conferences have always been enthusiastic participants in the papers I have presented and the workshops I have run. They have demonstrated a real thirst for input and a willingness to learn and improve. The teachers I interacted with at this little local school were similar: overworked and underpaid, but enthusiastic, energetic, and trying to do the best for their pupils.

The social infrastructure of a country tells you a lot about its values. Good education, like adequate health care, is, in my opinion, the cornerstone of social justice in a community. Education (which may or may not be the result of good schools) is important to a population’s future, and even more critical in developing countries where the pace of change means that children will have to make  choices about how to merge traditional values with international possibilities.

To the Future (text)Although international aid accounted for about half the national budget in 2010, Cambodia spends only about two percent of its GDP on education. Schooling is free to students; perhaps the government thinks it is free to them also.

Unfortunately, you often get what you pay for.

The teachers and children in these schools deserve better.

“More than 50% of the population [of Cambodia] is less than 25 years old. The population lacks education and productive skills, particularly in the poverty-ridden countryside, which suffers from an almost total lack of basic infrastructure.”

– CIA Factbook, Updated Nov. 8, 2011

 

  • Carol Buckley - November 20, 2011 - 10:09 am

    This is lovely, almost a story book quality to its sequence. Your hard work is evident; you have created a reflective and warm series of images.ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - November 20, 2011 - 1:51 pm

      Hi Carol,
      So pleased you stopped in and enjoyed the story! 😀
      I enjoyed visiting with the kids – more about them next week. 😉ReplyCancel

  • Signe Westerberg - November 20, 2011 - 10:37 pm

    I have to agree the camera loves kids, and how could it not, those fresh faced young people and deservedly proud of their work. We here do take our education for granted and whilst I will continue to fight for equality for our public school students vs our private schools, our children do get a great deal in comparison and sadly (although almost expected) resent the drudgery of attending day in day out… bless those young minds and those who struggle in difficult circumstances to get the basics through.ReplyCancel

  • Anna :o] - November 23, 2011 - 7:03 pm

    I agree that good education and adequate health care is the cornerstone of social justice. Our children are our future – where ever we live – and I hope these little ones do indeed have a bright future. Wonderful images.

    Anna :o]ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - November 24, 2011 - 12:42 am

      Thanks, Signe and Anna.
      These kids have such potential! 🙂ReplyCancel

  • Kevin Dowie - November 26, 2011 - 2:27 am

    Excellent photo essay Ursula. I visited Cambodia several years ago. For a country that has been through so much, the people are wonderful and welcoming. Your post has got me thinking that I should return!ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - November 26, 2011 - 2:53 am

      Hi Kevin,
      I’m so glad you enjoyed it. You’d love a photo tour! I can’t recommend Karl Grobl’s trips highly enough (bookings through Jim Cline). I know Karl (with Gavin, Matt and Marco Ryan) is planning another trip next July. 😀ReplyCancel

  • […] met Sony, the eldest of the four siblings, the first morning I visited Sandan School. She’s a bright girl, and was lucky enough to be chosen to attend the Jay Pritzker […]ReplyCancel

  • Patrick Gallagher - July 28, 2013 - 3:27 am

    Another nice job, Ursula. I feel as though I was there. I visited some small rural schools in Buriram when I was a Peace Corps volunteer in the mid 1970’s and they weren’t much different than this one you captured so well in your photographs and words. Thanks, for sharing.ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - July 28, 2013 - 3:59 am

      Thanks for the visit, Patrick!
      It is sad, in a way, that things have changed so little since the 70’s. The children in these rural schools are delightful, but it is hard to know what educational opportunities they actually have.ReplyCancel

  • Ursula - July 30, 2013 - 1:19 am

    Ha Ha, John!
    I, on the other hand, was bad at marbles, and skipping, and all those other non-book-related pursuits. Playgrounds were agony! 🙂ReplyCancel

Do you ever have those times when you get so busy you almost forget to breathe?

In a country like Australia, you get used to covering a lot of ground to get from A to B and to C. Since arriving in Sydney from Bangkok a week ago, I’ve spent most of my time in a car. My husband and I are in a ‘transition phase’: living out of suitcases and trying to tie up a lot of loose ends in different places, in what never feels like enough time. I get quite breathless.

Having both hands gripped on the wheel has meant I haven’t spent time taking pictures, let alone sorting and processing them. But, as I’ve driven along winding coastal highways, clinging to cliffs above the ocean; over twisting mountain roads in rain and hail; and across dirt tracks and tarmacs in the middle of rolling farming lands, I’ve had the company of my thoughts – and some good  ABC (Australian Broadcasting Corporation) radio.

The radio reminded me that: not only is it Remembrance Day (also known as Poppy Day, Armistice Day or Veterans Day) in Commonwealth and other Allied countries to commemorate the official end of World War I – “the war to end all wars”; but at 11:11 in the morning, we have the only date with a 12-digit palindrome comprised of a single digit: 11:11:11 on 11/11/11. Numerologist call it a “high vibrational day”, which is meant to be a good thing.

In any event, it is a good reason to stop – and breathe – and reflect on those who have fallen on foreign shores.

Red poppy on green grass

Wild Poppy: Remembrance of Days (and Wars) Past

In Flanders Fields 

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you from failing hands, we throw
The torch – Be yours to hold it high!
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though
poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

– Captain John D. McCrae,  3 May 1915,  Flanders

Composite: the Allied Cemetery at Kanchanaburi, headstone and photo of Australian Infantry Corporal, WWWood

WWII Remembrance: Australian Infantry Corporal, W.W.Wood and his Headstone, Kanchanaburi Thailand

Text: Lest we Forget

 

Perhaps if we reflect, we can change things.

 

(My thanks to William W Wood’s grandchildren.)

  • Signe Westerberg - November 10, 2011 - 10:02 pm

    Welcome home -ish…

    Agreed on several counts, good Aussie Radio ABC…time to breath but mostly a pause for thought, in our case on how lucky we are to live as we do in the most beautiful of countries, enjoying many many freedoms and a lifestyle the envy of nearly all… at 11am I will stop the phones, I won’t make it to the war memorial here in Liverpool, but I will pause, I will remember and I will give thanks to the all to many who died making all I said before possible… lest we forget.ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - November 10, 2011 - 10:13 pm

      Good morning, Signe.
      I must say, I’ve had my dollar-a-day, or whatever it costs, from old Auntie ABC this week! I put over 3000km on the rental car, and most of it with quality listening. 🙂
      Hard to believe how lucky we are, isn’t it? I also find hard to believe that “we” don’t learn – the conflicts continue.
      (I fixed the noted spelling error.)ReplyCancel

  • Signe Westerberg - November 10, 2011 - 11:11 pm

    I guess learning from our mistakes becomes someone elses problem… buck passing at its worst. thanks for fixing envy… and Aunty does keep us informed and mostly without rhetoric of the commercial stations.. and little political bias.
    see you soon I hope…ReplyCancel

  • Signe Westerberg - November 10, 2011 - 11:12 pm

    ps… I stole your poem… I’ve posted it on my site.. tksReplyCancel

  • Anna :o] - November 12, 2011 - 2:23 am

    Sadly we never learn, hopefully one day we will.

    Anna :o]ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - November 12, 2011 - 10:09 am

      Hi Anna,
      Nice of you to visit! Sad that nothing seems to change.
      I popped into your site – nice work! I was born in Broadgreen, Liverpool. How’s that for a small world? 😀ReplyCancel

  • […] Day,  Memorial Day, or Armistice Day) was a big deal, and we all learned and recited the poem “In Flanders Fields”, written about that war by Captain John D. […]ReplyCancel

After bumping along narrow Cambodian roads into oncoming trucks and buffalo carts for what seemed like a very long time, our bus pulled to a stop on the shoulder in the middle of nowhere. Our Khmer guide assured us we were at the back entrance to Beng Mealea, one of the less-visited temples of Angkor.

Portrait: Serious-looking Khmer man in long-sleeved shirt in front of jungle.

Mr Chhor, our guide, tells the history of the temple which we cannot yet see.

We had to take his word for it: aside from a small dirt path leading into the overgrown jungle, we could see nothing. The air hummed with heat and mosquitos as we photo-tour participants and our leaders Karl GroblGavin Gough and Marco Ryan tumbled out of the bus and onto the sun-baked earth. We applied industrial strength mosquito repellant – the kind that eats leather and melts nail polish – before following our guide along the stone and dirt track into another place and time.

Moss-covered broken stones with the sculpted clawed feet of a mythical creature

The clawed feet of some mythical creature lie in wait for us.

A pile of mossy rocks around the ruins of a 12th century Khmer temple.

The jungle has been allowed to reclaim Beng Mealea.

Like Angkor Wat, Beng Mealea was built during the reign of Suryavarman II, that is: between 1112 and 1152. It followed a similar plan but was smaller – with only a single story. Today, the jungle has truly taken over: the central tower has collapsed, and many of the outer buildings are crumbling. Trees arch over the site, vines and aerial roots wend their way around and through what is left of the walls. The ensuing shade allows moss and fungus to coat the walls and rubble and with a patina of greens.

Moss-covered piece of masonry, delicately carved.

Moss adds a patina of colour to the delicately carved stone-work.

Large trunk of of a fig growing out of the rubble of a khmer temple, stone arch behind.

Mighty fig trees work their way through the temple walls.

Some work is happening here, although I couldn’t tell whether the workers, who made themselves busy when they saw us coming, were engaged in restoration or simply keeping the site clean.

Five Khmer men load bricks onto a two-wheeled trolly

With a smile for their "audience", workers strain against the heat of the day.

Khmer ruins - Beng Mealea

The colours and textures of the ruins...

Rubble piles up between the corridors of Beng Mealea.

Delicate greens and grays ~ Beng Mealea

Stone window with broken balusters; rubble behind, fresh green plant in front.

Balusters falling in the windows.

Many of my companions found the site boring because there were few people to photograph. I, however, loved the dappled light through the tree-tops, the textures of the mossy stones and old walls, and the serene quiet of the site.

Moss and leaf litter on stones and broken masonry baluster.

Lines and curves ~ moss and stone.

Carved stone bricks, covered in moss, jumbled on the temple floor. Beng Mealea

A jumbled tumble of mossy carved stonework covers the inner-temple floor.

Delicate floral carvings on fallen masonry, Beng Mealea

The delicate floral carvings on the fallen masonry have survived the intervening centuries.

Roots and vines woven through stonework - Beng Mealea

Roots and vines work their way around the old stonework.

We were told that this site was used to film scenes from Lara Croft: Tomb Raider, as a “stand in” for the similar and better known Ta Prohm. I can find no corroboration for this, but it is easy to believe. I could imagine Lara Croft working her way through the long, dark chambers and emerging from behind the hanging vines. At one point, I thought I’d found her…

Tourists partially obscured by tree trunks: Beng Mealea.

Our guide explains the construction of the temple.

… but, alas, it was only members of my group.

As we left the grounds on the side where most people enter, afternoon storm clouds were gathering over the lotus-filled moat. Cows grazed and hawkers raced over to sell us scarves and drinks.

Scene: cows on the green verge of a lotus-filled moat, dark stormy sky.

Magic afternoon ~ the rains will soon be here.

Khmer man on a cart drawn by two white cows

Home from the fields.

And there we were – back in “modern” rural Cambodia.

Text: Happy Travels

Until next, wishing you Happy Travels.

Visit and pictures: July 15th, 2011

  • Signe Westerberg - November 3, 2011 - 11:53 pm

    it must be an amazing feeling standing in places with such rich history and wonderful colour… I guess your companions didn’t feel the history the way you do… thanks for sharing it.ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - November 4, 2011 - 2:28 am

      It was amazing ~ magical! Thanks for stopping in. 😀ReplyCancel

  • john kenny - July 18, 2013 - 9:46 pm

    An Amazing place, and i have yet to see it, ! I can only imagine when it was in use, how this place must have looked

    Great story and Photography , as per usuall,,,ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - July 18, 2013 - 11:04 pm

      Hi John,
      I loved this place! A little off the track, but well worth it. Thanks for visiting. 🙂ReplyCancel

  • Patrick Gallagher - July 24, 2013 - 6:36 am

    These appear to be ruins that are truly ruined.:-) Nice story and photos, Ursula.ReplyCancel

    • Ursula - July 24, 2013 - 7:05 am

      Thanks Patrick! I loved the atmosphere of this place.ReplyCancel