There can be no symbol more iconic of Cambodia’s attempts to guard its glorious Khmer past or of it’s hope for a self-determined future. The world’s largest religious monument, built between 1113 and 1150 during the reign of Suryavarman II, Angkor Wat was designed as a microcosm of the Hindu universe. The outer moat represents mythical oceans, while the concentric galleries stand for the mountain ranges that surround the inner sanctum, Mount Meru, home to the Hindu pantheon.
Vishnu the Protector ~ This statue, now in the West Entrance gopura, is believed to have been originally located in the central sanctuary.
Although built as a palace for the Hindu gods, Angkor Wat has always been religiously inclusive: first with respect to the original Khmer deities, and later to Mahayana and Theravada (Hinayana) Buddhism, respectively. Today, Hindu and Buddhist devotees intermingle freely as they pay their respects and/or pray at alters to their own or each other’s gods.
Reclining Buddha ~ Angkor Wat
Angkor Wat is so integral to Cambodia’s sense of self that it is a part of the national flag: the only building in the world to be so honoured. The black and white outline of the temple’s three towers against the red and blue of the flag match the view that greets you as you approach from the causeway on the the west side, as most visitors do.
The first time I went to Angkor Wat (in 2007) I, too, entered from the west – as witnessed by the dawn photograph I have in the opening masthead series (above). This July, as part of the photo-tour/workshop with photographers Karl Grobl, Marco Ryan, Gavin Gough and Matt Brandon, I visited the temple twice: both times in the late afternoon, both times entering from the east; essentially coming in the ‘back door’. It was quiet – no tourists – no hawkers – only one lone fisherman, illegally trying to catch dinner in the moat until he saw our cameras – and we could have been the first ‘outsiders’ there.
Lathe-Turned Stone Window Balusters, Angkor Wat
The bas reliefs of Angkor Wat are justifiably famous: covering extensive areas, the exterior wall panels of the third enclosure tell ancient Sanskrit creation stories and epics, particularly the Mahabharata, the philosophical and devotional story of a dynastic struggle for power, and the beloved Ramayana, the epic poem series depicting the major events in the life of Rama, an Avatar of Vishnu. But it is not only the walls. Almost every surface is carved: from the lathe-turned window balusters to the heavenly apsara dancers gracing walls and pillars everywhere.
Apsara Dancers inside Angkor Wat
Angkor Wat is so much more than relics in stone. The organisation that looks after this, and other Angkor temples in the Siem Reap area, is APSARA (Authority for Protection and Management of Angkor and the Region of Siem Reap), which was created by royal decree in 1995 in response to the need for local planning for World Heritage Listing. The acronym makes reference to the apsara, the celestial nymphs of Hindu and Buddhist legend, who also lend their name to traditional Khmer classical dance-drama performance. The agency is the link between local management of Khmer cultural heritage and UNESCO; and the guards, guides and various workers around the grounds all wear their APSARA name-plates proudly.
APSARA Employee, Angkor Wat
Above all, Angkor Wat is a temple; a site of pilgrimage and active worship for Hindus and Buddhists alike, Cambodian and otherwise. The saffron robes of Theravada monks are ubiquitous – it’s as if the monks are scattered, posed, just waiting to be photographed against the richly coloured weathered stone walls.
Monk in the Balusters
Monks in the Corridors, Angkor Wat
Cultural Exchange: A French woman discusses modern Buddhist practice with a young monk
Monks in the Afternoon, Angkor Wat
The stories told on the walls of Angkor Wat still live in the hearts and minds of the people, as well as in the modern practice of Khmer classical dance. The Cambodian version of the Ramayana, the 24,000 verse epic poem about ‘Rama’s Journey’ through life, integrates Buddhist themes into the traditional Hindu stories. One of the pivotal chapters tells how Rama’s wife Sita is abducted by the demon king of Lanka, Ravana. Another depicts her subsequent rescue by Hanuman, the monkey god. Our photographic mentors, Gavin Gough and Matt Brandon managed to persuade three apsara dancers to meet us in the corridors of the wat for a late afternoon photo-shoot.
Just for us! Khmer apsara dancers and the Ramayana: Ravana, Hanuman, and Sita in the west corridors of Angkor Wat.
Hanuman Strikes a Pose
Hanuman’s Hand
Sita’s Feet
Corridors of Power: Ravana Unmasked
Beauty and Strength ~ Ravana Unmasked
So, Angkor Wat may be a monument to a glorious Khmer culture of times past, but it also houses ongoing religious practices and modern renditions of ancient stories. It is a living monument.
Given the tragedies of recent Cambodian history, I hope that the cultural heritage embodied in this iconic temple can help the Cambodian people bridge the gaps between their cultural past and their potential future.
WOW, amazing the detail and intricacy of the stone work, and what beautiful shots of the dancers, Ursula you are certainly living the dream… thank you for sharing it.ReplyCancel
Some events in history are incomprehensible to me.
That some people survive these events, with dignity and hope, is almost more incomprehensible.
While I was in Phnom Penh last month, as part of a photo-tour/workshop with photographers Karl Grobl, Marco Ryan, Gavin Gough and Matt Brandon, I was privileged to meet and speak with Mr Chum Mey, one of only seven prisoners known to have survived the notorious Security Prison 21 (S-21): Tuol Sleng.
He spoke through an interpreter, but it was his voice and gentle brown eyes that held me transfixed as he talked about his experiences at the prison.
Chum Mey was in his forties, with a pregnant wife and three small children when the Khmer Rouge captured Phnom Penh. After being part of the exodus out of Phnom Penh, he was sent back to the city to repair the sewing machines used to manufacture the black uniforms favoured by the new regime. On 28 October 1978, they sent him to Tuol Sleng where he survived unspeakable and repeated tortures. His survival, when upwards of 17,000 perished, he believes, was because of his skills as a mechanic.
He talked, in his quiet voice, without rancour as he guided us around what is now a museum to the atrocities committed by those under the direct command of Kang Kech Iev, or “Brother Duch”, the head of the security apparatus. “If the dog bites you, you cannot bite it back”, Chum Mey said to us.
Where his anger did show was, not at Duch, but at the International Court – the UN-backed Khmer Rouge Tribunal – which gave Comrade Duch only 35 years for his crimes against humanity.
Join me, with Mr Chum Mey, in a short tour of Cambodia’s living past.
Everything can be taken from a man or a woman but one thing: the last of human freedoms to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.
What a dreadful time in history, and how important that these stories be told, we live in dangerous times, dangerous because without these brave people sharing their stories and people like you capturing it for future generations they will be all but lost. thank you.ReplyCancel
Ursula -August 12, 2011 - 1:43 am
Thanks, guys. Chum Mey is a very special man – what strength!ReplyCancel
Thanks Ursula,
a difficult subject which I think you’ve handled well.ReplyCancel
gabe -August 12, 2011 - 1:31 am
Signe expressed it better than I can. Well doneReplyCancel
Peggy Tan -August 12, 2011 - 2:51 am
Nice shots, nice music… but heart breaking… Hope history will not repeat again and world peace!ReplyCancel
Ursula -August 12, 2011 - 3:08 pm
Hi Peggy! Thanks for visiting. Unfortunately, history does seem to repeat; similar stories, different places. I guess we can only do our little bit… and hope.ReplyCancel
Ursula, you’ve done an excellent job on this multimedia piece about Chum Mey. Bravo! Compelling images and a sound track that fits very nicely. Keep up the great work…I’ll keep following your blog.
All the best, KarlReplyCancel
Ursula -August 16, 2011 - 5:03 am
Thanks so much Karl! Couldn’t have done it without you.ReplyCancel
Hi Ursula – great piece, really lovely shots and very compelling. I’m still struggling to find time to go through all my images. Hopefully will be able to soon! Hope all is well. JasperReplyCancel
Ursula -August 19, 2011 - 2:16 pm
Thanks so much for looking in – and for sharing this, Jasper. I KNOW your photos will be amazing, once you have a chance to look at them. I still have SO many I haven’t looked at; what a trip!ReplyCancel
Pongpet -August 20, 2011 - 12:35 pm
With a good camera and Ursula’s hand, how amzingly some history is recorded on the way she travels. Thank you for keep sharing your valuable experiences.ReplyCancel
Great job Ursula. That time with Chum Mey was a very special and moving experience. Like Jasper I’m also struggling to find the time to review my images but I’m hanging in there. Where is your next trip?ReplyCancel
Ursula -August 24, 2011 - 5:55 am
Hi Darrell! Thanks for visiting the site. I agree, our time with Chum Mey was very special. I hope I have done him some justice!
I’m off to Sydney and other points Australian on Saturday. 🙂ReplyCancel
Hello Ursula
Your last picture has me again magically attracted to view your website once again. A difficult theme you have chosen. I was in Cambodia in 2002 and have seen this with my own eyes. Interesting that I could see the history – but it is still horrible what happened at that time. With your movie and the matching music got this topic well managed to the attention. Greetings Dietmut
Hi Dietmut,
I’m glad you looked in. It was a difficult subject to tackle. I have been to Phnom Penh many times, and NOT gone to these places, but this time might be my last opportunity, so I thought I must go. I am SO glad I did: Mr Chom Mey made it special, and that was the angle I started with.
btw: I LOVE the shallow dof on you flowers. 😀ReplyCancel
[…] 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% […]ReplyCancel
[…] of Cambodia between 1975 and 1979, anyone deemed an “intellectual” was targeted. Over 17,000 Cambodian people were executed in the Killing Fields, and these included most of the country’s writers, artists and musicians. As a consequence, […]ReplyCancel
[…] 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 […]ReplyCancel
[…] and 1979, anyone deemed an “intellectual” was targeted. Over 17,000 Cambodian people were executed in the Killing Fields, and these included most of the country’s writers, artists and musicians. As a […]ReplyCancel
My husband and I sat in the hotel breakfast room, people-watching surreptitiously over our coffee and croissants. The only other occupant of the room was a woman in walk-pants, about my age, with a round quirky face and short curly hair. She sat in a booth opposite us, unhurriedly drinking café au lait and thumbing through a glossy magazine. Meanwhile, in the hotel lobby, a fit-looking man of about the same age, in impossibly-short shorts (of the kind only Europeans would wear), woollen socks and solid hiking boots, hoisted a large back-pack onto his shoulders and paced: alternating between coming into the dining room to talk to the woman; checking the roll of topographical maps and guide book he was carrying; and querying the elderly proprietor in the lobby as to the best routes out of town.
It was the first morning of the second half of our walk through the Cathar Castles of the Pyrenees. I have written before about the colourful characters that inhabit the region, and once again we were to find the people on the road every bit as fascinating as the area’s history and scenery. The two French-speakers we’d been watching seemed to be together, yet they were so clearly not marching to the same rhythm!
After our breakfast, we too, got instructions from the hotel proprietor and, leaving the French couple behind, set off on a shortcut to find the sentier Cathare (the Cathar trail). We strode out at a good pace, reaching Ginoles, the first of our Pyrenean villages, ahead of schedule.
Ginoles, home to 369 people in 2007, comes into view.
Every small village: a church.
A long, relentless climb up a shale mountain rewarded us with a view back over picturesque Ginoles.
From Ginoles, it was all up hill! Literally.
Up a coline de schiste noir, a black oil shale hill, radiating with heat and riddled with loose stones that threatened the safety of our ankles, knees and hips, we played leap-frog with the French couple: over-taking or being over-taken by one or both of them, each time with a polite “Bonjour!”, as we made our way up the seemingly endless hill before entering a pass through the forest and coming out the other side at Coudons.
Hunting hounds greeted us, back on the D613 at Coudons.
Gnomes Point the Way ~ La Fage
Mustard, Brambles, and Mountains ~ La Fage
Pine Cones ~ La Fage
Typical French Pyrenean housing ~ Nébias
It was nice when the pathway was clearly marked! Nébias (Photo by Gabe)
According to our notes, there was a restaurant at Nébias offering regional cuisine (Restaurant Le Thury, 66 Allée Promenade – no internet!). Not withstanding how good our packed picnics had been along the way, we were ridiculously excited by the prospect of eating our lunch in chairs! We sat at a plastic table outdoors in the sun, savouring our main course and salad with wine, and enjoying our coffee with desert.
Next stop: Château de Puivert on the hill in the distance. Privately owned and well maintained, this historic monument is the location for a number of movies, including The Ninth Gate – which I have seen and honestly can’t remember in SPITE of Johnny Depp’s star power!
Marguerites on the Path to Puivert
“Follow the red and white stripes!” Cathar Trail Markers
The Family Pet ~ A European Wolf ~ meets us outside the Château de Puivert
The Ruined Walls of the old Château de Puivert. The castle belonged to the Cathar Congost family when, in November 1210, it was subjected to three days of siege as part of the Albigensian Crusade.
Castle Doors ~ Newer parts of the Château de Puivert were built at the start of the 14th century.
Puivert is considered the “capitale des troubadours et de la musique médiévale” – the capital of the troubadours, the composers and performers of Occitan lyric poetry and mediaeval music from the 11th through the mid 13th century. The castle owners, in conjunction with the Puivert town museum, pay tribute to these historical figures and their instruments in the musicians’ room.
View of the small town of Puivert (497 inhabitants at last census) from the «sentier des troubadours», the walkway down from the castle.
We walked down from the castle above, following the Troubadours’ Pathway, into the town of Puivert – possibly the most picturesque and charming town we had visited in the Pyrenees – to seek out our accommodation: Le Relais des Marionnettes. Here we got to meet a whole new cast of characters.
L’Atelier des Marionnettes ~ The Marionette Workshop ~ A chaotic space, crowded with life
Our charming, articulate and rather bohemian hosts, Michel et Françoise Dubrunfaut, moved from Paris to Puivert ten years ago to follow their passion. In a chaotic workshop, crowded with fabrics, papers, paints, and clay body-parts, they create the most amazing marionettes. He moulds, carves and paints the faces and bodies, while she creates the costumes. Although many were caricatures, some were incredibly lifelike. With pride, Michel showed me his rendition of Mstislav Rostropovich, the celebrated cellist and conductor (1927-2007) as he looked, seated on his chair at the foot of the Berlin Wall playing Bach Suites, on the 11th of November 1989 when the Wall came down.
At 7:30 in the evening (the magic hour in the Pyrenees) we were downstairs in the common room, and over drinks (muscat, kir or pastisse) we met the other guests: seven other hikers from different parts of France, on various stages of their passage along the Cathar Trail. Katherine and Renaud, the couple we had been ‘meeting’ all day were from Paris. They, and two women, nurses from the Chamonix region, were walking the same direction as were were, while the other three women were walking the opposite way. Over a superb dinner of vegetable and nettle soup, rattatouille and chicken fettucini, and the best strawberry shortcake I’ve ever eaten, stories of walks across France and around the world bounced around the table (in French, of course) at a rapid rate.
Two repeated themes in the atelier, the French monsieur and the kitchen witch, bore a remarkable resemblance to their creators, Michel et Françoise Dubrunfaut – the artist and his muse.
That evening, the characters from the road danced around in my head, like marionettes on strings – each with it’s own own unique personality and story.
Take isolated communities growing rice and raising cows and chickens in rural Cambodia where few roads reach, and you have a need. Take some rail track in disrepair, a bamboo raft and a small motor and you have a solution.
Meet “The Bamboo Railway”: the ear-splitting, bone-rattling, wind-in-your-hair, bushes-in-your-face solution to transporting goods and people from Battambang to points south and back again.
The "Norry" or Bamboo Rail Car is Powered by a Small Motor
Metal Wheels on the Rail Line
Holding the whole thing together with bent metal rail ties...
The Smoking Man: Our Driver is a Cool Dude
During their colonial rule, the French put 400 miles of rail line across Cambodia, but the years of war, civil war, and general instability since they departed the country in 1953 have taken their toll. Although the Khmer Rouge were overthrown by the Vietnamese in early 1979 after a four-year reign of terror, they continued to wage guerrilla war throughout the country into the late 1990s, making the railway one of their targets. They planted land mines along the rail lines (and elsewhere, of course) and frequently ambushed trains. Conventional trains have run only irregularly for years, and passenger trains stopped completely over a year ago. Since the first rails were laid in the 1920s, ingenious locals have braved the hazards of oncoming locomotives and potential mines to use the lines to advantage.
Our trip to the railway had been organised by our able photo-tour/workshop leader Karl Grobl. We left our comfortable beds at our delightful hotel in Battambang at six am – that’s six am – and climbed into local tuk-tuks to arrive at the local ‘train station’ – a loose collection of bamboo and wooden buildings on a dusty road – in time to watch the ‘norries’, or rail-riding platforms, be put together. It’s simple really: lift two metal wheels welded to an axle wide enough to fit the rails onto the track in pairs. Rest a bamboo platform on top. Fix a small motor to the rear axle with a fan belt that passes through a hole in the bamboo, and you are set. Passenger ‘norries’ come with a cushion for comfort – if you are lucky.
All you need is a small motor, a fan-belt and a little push, and you are off!
Speed! We rattled and bumped, being whacked by bushes, at speeds of up to 50km/hour.
As rail lines weave and wobble toward the norry in the distance, goods wait at the side of the track.
Endless rice patties, Battambang Province
Apparently, you can ride bamboo trains all the way to Phnom Penh. I have no idea how far we went because none of the ‘towns’ we stopped were signposted in English, and I know they are not on my map. We bumped past countryside uninterrupted by roads, enjoying the cooling wind in the already hot, humid morning and getting a wonderful view into a world less-travelled by tourists. Everywhere we stopped, people were happy to come out to greet us, and to allow us to photograph daily life.
A kitten and her friends welcome us to some small hamlet in Battambang Province
Light ~ Dark ~ Heat : Bringing in the Rice
Washing the Morning Dishes
This woman keeps the accounts at the local rice storage shed.
Piled Passengers in a Tractor Transport
Small Town Shopkeepers
Roadside Laundry. Note the glass bottles of gasoline/petrol behind her.
Hulling the Rice Harvest
Local Barber Shop
To accommodate two-way traffic on a single line, Norry courtesy dictates that when two carriages meet, the one with the lighter load leaves the track. Drivers and passengers pitch in to disassemble and reassemble the norries to allow passage. This process was surprisingly quick.
"Incoming!" An over-loaded norry gets right of way...
The lighter load stands aside, off the tracks, to allow passage.
Tourist norries are easy to off-load, as there is nothing on them but people!
Rebuilding the norry takes only a few moments.
No whistle... No bell... The only choice is to wait until the cows wander off...
"Don't look down!"
The Bamboo Railway is technically illegal, and clearly there is no Occupational Health and Safety committee supervising its operation! There is rumour that the rail line is going to be repaired and ‘proper’ trains will run again. But, this is Cambodia, and these things take time…. Until the repairs happen, the norries and their resourceful drivers are filling a local need and bringing in tourist dollars.
Riding the Rails!
I had a wonderful morning ‘riding the rails’, but as soon as we stopped moving, the heat and humidity enveloped us like a fog. I had to keep reminding myself that it wasn’t yet 8:30am. The six am start to our day was starting to make sense, and I could only sympathise with those who had to ride the bamboo rails through the midday heat.
[…] For additional images and information about the bamboo train, you might enjoy these two other blog posts; the first from a 2010 blog post here and another from 2011 Angkor Photo Workshop participant Ursula Wall, which can be seen by clicking here. […]ReplyCancel
April of 2010, I spend a magical three days in Varanasi, India, with photographers Gavin Gough and Matt Brandon. One of the ‘homework’ tasks they gave us was to make a themed Soundslides presentation.
The Hindu faithful recognise the integration of five elements: earth, air, water, fire and spirit. I was fascinated by the use of fire in the daily observances that are conducted everywhere along the Ganges River. From pre-dawn until after dark, ritual fires burn in Varanasi to pay tribute to the Mother Ganges.
Here is my depiction of the Faith Fires in Varanasi.
- Performing the Ganga Aarti from Dasaswamedh Ghat, Varanasi
- Buddha Head from Shwedagon Pagoda, Myanmar
- Harry Clarke Window from Dingle, Ireland
- Novice Monk Shwe Yan Pyay Monastery, Myanmar
Packets of 10 for $AU50.
Or - pick any photo from my Flickr or Wanders blog photos.
Everything can be taken from a man or a woman but one thing: the last of human freedoms to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.
Until next time, stay cool and travel safe!
WOW, amazing the detail and intricacy of the stone work, and what beautiful shots of the dancers, Ursula you are certainly living the dream… thank you for sharing it.
Cheers, Signe! 😀
I have seen a lot of these images on Flickr too. A very interesting
story Ursula. Fine sunday, mgreetings Dietmut