Bantay Srei and the Legacy of Andre' Malraux

One of the temple sites that I was particularly interested in visiting was Bantay Srei, which is located about an hour outside of Siem Reap.

Bantay Srei holds a particular fascination for me because of the influence this temple had on the life of Andre' Malraux -- the adventurer, author, and one-time Minister of Cultural Affairs in France during the administration of Charles de Gaulle. As a student during the Viet Nam War, I became interested in Malraux as an example of someone who turned art into action. He not only wrote one of the most influential books of his time Man's Fate (La Condition Humaine). He was an acknowledged mytho-maniac, but he was also instrumental in re-forming the French perspective on Colonialism.

Malraux experiences in what was then called Indochina started when -- as a young man -- he came to Cambodia with the expressed purpose of finding Bantay Srei -- which previous French explorers had misplaced and confused with another site back in the 1920s. According to some historians, Malraux was a self-taught fanatic about art and culture, and he was intrigued with the legends of Bantay Srei's beautiful bas relief carvings. When the stock market crashed in 1922, leaving he and his new bride penniless, he determined to regain their economic stability by bringing examples of those temple carvings to France and selling them to museums (a form of commerce that was already well-established.) He deeply researched the known literature, pouring over the maps and recorded legends and stories of the Angkor area. Then he borrowed money to mount an exploration.

Unfortunately, so the story goes, while he was traveling to Cambodia on a trunk steamer, the colonial powers in Indochina passed a law prohibiting this kind of activity -- the first effort to preserve the temples in Cambodia from opportunists like Malraux. When Malraux arrived, he ignored this law and proceeded to mount his expedition. After several days of moving through the jungle, they found the temple, and his crew cut into the sandstone and removed several of the bas reliefs --cutting into the temple with hand saws. Fortunately, he was turned in to authorities and jailed -- sentenced to death.

When the French intelligentsia learned of his fate, a movement was started to get Malraux pardoned, and after many months in jail, he was released. The experience, however, radicalized him, and he went on to form an anti-colonial newspaper in Vietnam called "Indochina in Chains" -- one that the government attempted to shut down on several occasions and co-founded the Young Annam League -- a proto-Communist organization. His experiences in seeking Bantay Srei were fictionalized in what Malraux called an "anti-memoir" entitled "The Royal Way." While working in Vietnam, he wrote his second novel called "Man's Fate" -- a novel that predicted the Chinese Revolution and idealized the political struggles of the disenfranchised peasants in China. He wrote this novel without ever having visited China, yet its influence on the French intellectual community was profound.

Malraux went on to fight in the Spanish Civil War and in the French Resistance during WWII. He was captured twice, and sentenced to death on one occassion. He became such a towering "heroic" intellectual figure in France that his influence deeply impacted how the French Governments began to deal with its former colonial holdings. Like many, I admired Malraux's intelligence, his activist sentiments, and his deep concern with art and the rights of disenfranchised. (He wrote many books on art and culture that, in some people's mind, were the first look at global artistic cultural movements.)

That being said, in Cambodia Malraux is understandably portrayed as a villain for his desecration of Bantay Srei -- an example of the thieving nature of European opportunists who care nothing for the heritage of the Cambodian people. Even at the Cambodian Royal Palace they have a video display where they comment on Malraux's exploits, characterizing him as a simple theif.

This got me thinking about Malraux's influence again, and how that played out during the Khmer Rouge' days, when France embraced the regime and ignored -- as many western countries ignored -- the evidence of the auto-genocide. Did Malraux's preoccupation with populist peasant revolutions damper an awareness of the dangers of the Khmer Rouge'?

In Francois Bizot's excellent memoir of the fall of Phenom Penh "The Gate", he relates how he had tried to inform a well-known French journalist of what was going on -- based upon his own personal experience as a captive of the Khmer Rouge'. Bizot, in 1975, had first-hand knowledge of the tortures and executions of innocent people by the Khmer Rouge', and he later ended up being the only Western captive that was ever released by them. The French journalist who Bizot was trying to inform would have none of it. It was as though a veil of a "politically correct sentiment" had been dropped over the workings of the Khmer Rouge' regime, and the French intelligentsia could not or would not pass judgment on a populist Communist peasant revolt.

This reference in "The Gate" caused me to wonder if the influence of Malraux's radicalization fifty years before was still being reflected in the minds of people who should have known better. At that time -- in 1975 (Malraux died in 1976) -- Malraux's influence was still being felt, along with a lot of naive sentiments about Indochina.

In any event, Bantay Srei had proven to be a subtle and immutable influence in my own thinking, emanating out of my readings of Malraux, long before this trip. So actually seeing the temple was -- for me -- a really important event. The actual visit was not a disappointment at all.

The temple, in size, is extremely small when compared to Angkor Wat. Yet the carvings and decorations are so exquisite that they dwarf the artistic workmanship of any of the other temples we visited. We found ourselves walking around in awe of its beauty. So unique are the qualities of these bas reliefs that, when one sees them out of context -- such as in the museum at Siem Reap -- they are immediately recognizable.

I remember saying to Judith that -- if Malraux was destined to steal from a temple -- at the very least he knew he should steal from only the most exquisite. But for an intellectual, his lack of a moral compass may have idealized the human struggle for peace and justice, and the resulting silence may have ultimately had a significant effect on the lives and deaths of many people in the era of the Khmer Rouge'.

Following in the path of a Human Translation

This is a slide show documentary of our recent excursion to Balangk Commune near Siem Reap, Cambodia following Tobias Rose-Stockwell, Director of the Human Translation Organization. It documents a single day as he and his engineer, Chai -- along with Venerable Mean Somet, a Buddhist monk -- show us the progress of their water irrigation project.

The project was a collaboration with the New York chapter of Engineers Without Borders, HT's supporters in the Napa Valley, countless contributors to the HT Website, and the community of Balangk Commune.

Most of these photos were taken with my Blackberry Curve cell phone. The resolution isn't great, but it was a handy way to quickly document an amazing day.

Thanks for taking a look.




For more information about this project, check out the Human Translation Website.

How "Lost" were the lost temples

In the West we are taught that the Angkor temples were lost for centuries only to be "discovered" by a Frenchman at the beginning of the last century.

But the people who lived here knew that the hundreds and hundreds of temples were in the jungle and still visited most of them, though they were no longer maintained by the generations of kings.

When we really lost Cambodia was when the US started dropping millions of bombs on the villagers - first during the Johnson administration, and finally in the secret bombings of the Nixon administration. These bombing raids - dropping more bombs on this gentle nation than all that were dropped in WWII- became the primary propaganda events used by the Khmer Rouge to attract farmers into their ranks, ultimately causing the auto genocide of over a million people and the destruction of many of the ancient sculptures within the temples.

It's sobering thought that this is the same technique that the terrorists in Afghanistan and Iraq are using today.

Last night we witnessed Kymer orphans at a local NGO re enact the beautiful traditional dances of their ancestors. These kids spend two hours every day before school to practice. They were extraordinary.

This morning, before we left for the airport, we stopped for a tour of the Angkor Hospital for Children, another NGO where I interviewed for a job. Families come from all over Cambodia to bring their children for treatment - and they handle over 300 kids a day for stuff like malnutrition, water borne illnesses, and - increasingly - burn victims. It's a 50 bed hospital that is a model of care, though lacking itself in basic infrastructure things like consolidated IT services. It's a project I know I can help them build, though I haven't figured out yet how to bring them what they need.

Cambodia is rebuilding quickly, trying to meet its own destiny. This is not a nation like Thailand and not like Viet Nam and not like Malaysia not a bit like China. Its people have been the most gracious and kind and gentle and humble hosts that I have ever had a chance to meet. There seems to be no hostility towards Americans. We have always felt welcomed. As a nation of individuals, they seem to have large and open hearts. We hope we can find a way to help.

We are now back in Bangkok. But this trip now just seems to be starting. Judith and I are already thinking about the next steps. If Cambodia had been lost before, perhaps it was only lost to our imaginations in the West.

Arwen's-Sunset at Angkor Wat

We managed to help throw a surprise birthday party for Arwen. The party started Friday night at Karen and Howie's house who opened their beautiful place at around 9PM. Pizza and lots of ex pat friends from the NGO community. People started trickling out at around 11:30 and Bryan whispered to us that a second party was to begin at another place at midnight. So Judith and I slipped out and found two friends on motos who whisked us away across the moon-lit river to where decorations awaited proclaiming "Arwen's Birthday Bonanza". When Arwen showed up with Bryan she was judiciously surprised, and the celebration lasted until 3. Lots of drinking and music and people just kept coming. Judith and Karen and Howie and I decided about 1:30 that we were too old to keep up, so we headed out. But they only had their single moto, and all the tuk tuk drivers had gone to bed. So Karen offered to walk us part way to help us find our directions back to the hotel. Along the river we walked through sleepy Siem Reap where the only people awake were a small flock of hookers clustered on the bridge. No problem for us.

The next day we found Howie and Karen at pool side of our hotel. They say our hotel is like their living room. Arwen and Bryan and many others ended up joining us.

Arwen decided that she wanted to see the sunset on her birthday at Angkor Wat. So we piled into a tuk tuk and headed out to the temples. We arrived just as the guards were chasing the tourists off the massive complex. So we played hide and seek in the temples and every time one would find us and demand that we leave, we said, "OK, but can we take your picture?" Which would delay the inevitable a bit longer. Then off we'd go again to hide. The place is enormous, so we took lots of pictures of guards, and managed to be the last ones out.

Here is a picture of Arwen and Judith just before sunset: after which we had a wonderful dinner. The end of a beautiful birthday for a 25 year old beauty.

The most unusual thing in Siem Reap

Of all the things we've seen to date in Siem Reap, this takes the cake.

What can it be? There is only one, it's constantly moving, and no one seems to know what to make of it.

Tourists at Angkor Wat

We went out to Angkor Wat to watch the sunset on Arwen's b-day and this was a photo I couldn't resist.

Even the venerable have to keep their Facebook pages current I guess.

The other side of Siem Reap

Bryan put us up one night at Hôtel de la Paix - the five star hotel where he works as Executive Chef. It was great, and the swimming pool looked like a scene from a mafia movie. He also treated us to dinner, which is certainly his professional focus. It was delicious. But it's a far cry from what's going on in most of the town.

The Old Market in Siem Reap

The old market is where you can find almost everything in the world. From new shoes to fresh snails to bananas to raw silk to kitchen ware to pigs knuckles. Want a carving of a buddha for your meditation room? Heck, you could furnish a million temples, complete with straw mats, incense, buddha and an oil painting of your favorite karaoke star.

The old market is one of three in Siem Reap, that also includes the New Market and the Night Market. Got a silk bathrobe for 18 dollars - negotiated down from 28. The trick is, evidently, to ask what the price is and then immediately say "Are you CRAZY!?!". It works.

The Moto-Planet

We've been in Siem Reap for more than a week, with lots of side trips to various spots, all by motor bike or tuk tuks - which are little carriages pulled by a moto. The cost of renting a tuk tuk is between 10 and 15 dollars a day - depending on how far you want to go. You can't rent a moto, but moto drivers will let you hop on for about 50 cents. But you have to remember to mount and dismount on the left, or you end up with a "moto tattoo" on your leg: a nasty burn from the tail pipe.



The moto serves as every form of transportation in Siem Reap- including the family car, personal truck, portable snack stand, and delivery vehicle. We've seen as many as five people on a single moto: two adults and three children cradled between arms of parents or hanging off the back. Of course helmets are unusual. Sometimes you'll see three or more scooting along on a single bike, frantically texting on their cell phones. Last week we say a man bringing ten pigs - belly up in the sun - tied to a platform on the back seat. Tobias said they were drugged, which kept them quiet. Another time we witnessed a boy carrying a full length mirror, four feet by four feet, some how balanced on the back seat. It was disconcerting because the mirror was not covered, so it appeared the driver was going in two directions simultaneously.

Then there is also the crazy way moto drivers zoom at intersections: a sort of dance by which any semblance of left-hand or right-hand right of way is completely optional.

Hard to believe, but after a week of being here, one loses all fear of motos. We've yet to see a single accident, and we've never heard anyone raise their voice in anger. Road rage does not seem to exist. People merely toot twice and pass you; on the left or the right or anyway they can, three or four or five at a time. It's a ballet, crazy and beautiful to watch.

That's the way it is on the Moto Planet of Siem Reap. Phnom Penh, by comparison, is a mad house.

Judith at Praeh Kahn

We hit three temples today. This is Praeh Kahn. So far that makes ten I think, but who can keep track.

Climbing Phnom Bakheng

This temple is a mountain temple with two long pathways to it: one for people and one for elephants. It's also called the sunset temple but we went when no one was there.

Climbing Beng Maelea

Today we went to an abandoned temple an hour's drive from the tourist temples. This is what we did.

Most of these photos were shot with my Black Berry Curve PDA/Cell phone. It was very handy and with the 2 megapixel camera, it was convenient to take a shot and email it to friends immediately.

Unfortunately, while climbing over these massive stones, I slipped and dropped the cell phone. Fortunately, the Black Berry is pretty rugged and it still functioned just fine. Only, considering the abrasive nature of those stones, I was worried about the plastic and the screen getting scratched.

Normally, I don't promote any products, but in this case I have to acknowledge that Invisible Shield -- a thin protective cover that I'd purchased online -- completely saved the day. The shield itself was slightly scratched, after the cell phone slid down the rocks and into a crevice. But the plastic itself was unscathed. Amazing. They say that they use this same covering in the military to protect helicopter blades from wear in the deserts of Iraq. I believe it. This stuff is a great covering to protect a cell phone. Best of all, it comes with a life-time replacement guarantee. I've since emailed Zagg -- the organization that sells Invisible Shield -- for a replacement. I'll post here if they come through. But even if they don't replace it, the product is definitely worth the extra price.

Arwen

Thanks to all of you who expressed concern about Arwen's condition. This is a brief note to let you know of her progress.

The examination at the hospital and the diagnostic test and X-ray indicated that she had picked up some form of bacteria that caused her bronchitis. The sent the X-ray to Bangkok to get a consultation from a specialist. The specialist said that the infection was not pneumonia. The increased the strength of antibiotics and today it seems she started to turn a corner. She says she will probably go in to work (teaching English classes) tomorrow, but we'll see.

Bryan has been a real champ - acting as caregiver while arranging transportation for us as well. This was not as easy as it may sound because the rain yesterday turned their road into soup with potholes four and five feet wide and 8 to 12 inches deep. He has escorted us on his moto leading our tuk tuk driver to our destination and then returning home to take care of Arwen.

But she's getting better so thanks for your kind thoughts.

Today Tobias took us out to Balang Commune to inspect the site of the Human Translation water project. Too much stuff to write now. But more is coming. It was by far the most amazing day of our trip to date.

Khmer dogs for the dog lovers among us

Gogi, Whiskey, and Coka are dogs that came with Arwen and Bryan's house along with a bunch of puppies.



Khmer dogs are indeed strange looking to us but they have personalities that make the usual American breeds seem like beach blonds or something. They cause one to speculate on the symbiotic relationships the canines establish with humans.



First of all, I think Khmer dogs are skinny for the simple reason that dogs in some Kymer households are considered a protein source - though not a common menu item. (Black dogs are considered tastier than other colors.) So there's possibly a Darwinian predisposition to remain scrawny-looking.



Secondly, most we've seen seem somewhat low to the ground - perhaps to better spot the crickets and other bugs upon which they seem to munch quite happily. And since they are used as guard dogs, they're very handy to have around.



But personality-wise they seem to observe humans with a philosophical eye - a permanent under class just above chickens in the social hierarchy.



Gogi is Arwen and Bryan's 8 week old black with a kind of long snouzer sort of nose and he's quite the spoiled little Khmer pup. He watches and listens attentively and then runs off to do what he wants. He's Coka's puppy and already he's almost as big. His father is a tan Khmer dog from the neighborhood who shows up outside from time to time to mark the fence on his rounds.



Gogi is cute beyond cute and Arwen and Bryan hope to bring him back to the states.

Royal Angkor Hospital-More Contrasts

We've taken Arwen to the Royal Angkor Hospital here in Siem Reap to have her checked out for pneumonia or whatever she has.



Bryan called several times before we could find a tuk-tuk driver who could ferry us all. It took him a while to find our house.



This is a very new and modern hospital - less than a year old and it's equivalent to Queen of the Valley in Napa. There are two hospitals in Siem Reap and this is one of them aimed specifically to Western clientele. The other one is the Siem Reap Children's Hospital that John Morgan helped to build and at which he was the chief administrator for many years. (John is currently starting a new project building a hospital boat to take medical services down the rivers to villages. A really interesting concept since the transportation infrastructure is so rudimentary. )



The RAH here is immaculate, the nurses in crisp white uniforms and the staff extremely professional. But it is very expensive by Khmer standards - $120 to see a doctor).



There is free Internet while we're waiting and they serve coffee and tea!



Arwen is in seeing the doctor now and we've already contacted the insurance provider for pre-certification so I'm certain things will be fine. It's another contrast here and an indication of how quickly this area is changing. The roads are really bad outside the main drag with bamboo shacks and power lines that look like confetti hanging from make-shift poles. And then there are the hotels shiny and new and this amazing hospital.



More later.

Notes from Cambodia

We made it to Siem Reap after seven amazing days of travel. First we were in Bangkok and did the usual touristy things while we acclimated to both the heat and the culture shock of a 2nd World culture. Many of the photos we took are loaded up to google but I can't get google to work right now or I pass along the link.

We met Tobias and Arwen and Bryan in Phnom Penh and moved from a 2nd World culture to a 3rd World Post Apocalyptic one. PP is rising from the ashes of the Year Zero Khmer Rouge' experiment and it's a crazy place with a Wild West sort of atmosphere. Our taxi driver moved to PP in 1979 right after Pol Pot emptied the city and he said there just 200 people left in town. It had been one of the most beautiful French Colonial cities in SE Asia. Then it was deserted and ransacked. Today it is a madhouse of reconstruction and new building is going on everywhere.
1.4 million inhabitants now.

Tobias had arranged for us to stay our first night at a beautiful western-style guest house - with a pool and all sorts of amenities. It was a lovely gesture and it allowed us to unwind. That night we took a tuk-tuk to a restaurant run by an NGO and had a great meal. The next morning we swam in the pool and then took a bus to Kep.

The bus ride was a trip - literally and figuratively - that I'll never forget. The bus was ok - with something like AC struggling to keep us cool - as we headed south through the countryside to the coast. The contrasts were everywhere as we moved from 3rd World city economy into the rural agrarian economy of rice fields, cows, water buffalos, roadside stands, houses on stilts and - in the distance - lush coastal mountains. There were newly refurbished Wats every few miles and the pervasive Political Party buildings (bright and shiney and newly constructed) beside shacks of wattle and palm fronds.

The two lane highway was swarmed with moto-bikes, bikes, and trucks and cars - as well as ox carts and swamp tractors. The mode of driving is to go as fast as you can, with you hand on the horn, weaving and dodging down the middle of the highway. The trip to Kep took us six hours with one stop about half-way. As soon as we stepped off the bus we were swarmed by children selling things in baskets - candy, water, satay, chips. If you said "ati akun" (no thank you) they just stood beside you holding their baskets, waiting against chance. Polite but ready. (To give you an idea of the contrast in the value of money - the exchange rate is $1 US for about 4000 Real. I made the mistake of tipping a cabbie $1 for helping us move bags and he held it up to sky and then kissed it, smiling happily).

Makes one feel like a real colonial.

We arrived at Kep in the evening and climbed the hill to our guest house - a place that Tobias christened "the Ewok village" and Arwen said it came right out of an episode of the Myst computer game. The bungalows are up in the trees on stilts surrounding an open air veranda overlooking the Gulf of Thailand. Kep is right on the Cambodian/Vietnam border and was the Rivera of Cambodia before the civil war. There were hundreds or thousands of modern villas built here, overlooking a rocky shingled beach and they once trucked in sand from the north to make it more like the beaches of Thailand. The invasion of the Vietnamese turned it into a house-to-house war and now all the villas are bombed out shells - some with squatters living in them, but most simple abandonded. It's spooky to see these burnt out shells being overrun by the jungle. Thirty years of jungle growth is a testiment to the impermanence of human industry, and what's really telling is that the native Khmer aren't really interested in resurrecting them for their own use but have built new since the 1990s in the style that they prefer. We climbed up through some of the ruins, being mindful to stay on the beaten pathways because there are still unexploded munitions hidden in the undergrowth.

Tobias had contracted some sort of bug and was feeling very bad and we convinced him to get some antibiotics before it turned into pnemonia, but the nearest pharmacy was in Kam Pot, so he hired a moto-driver to take him the 15 miles to the town. Meanwhile the rest of us wandered the road along the waterfront.

Bryan bought rambuthan fruit from a woman on a bike and we rented hamocks and ate and watched a squall blow in from Vietnam. Got caught later walking back. Arwen was also coming down with the bug so we were starting to get worried about her.

One interesting incident was the attack by giant red ants on Tobias' computer. He had left it out in his bungalow and some small ants came to eat the crumbs in his keyboard. These ants then attracted the giant ants who were hunting the smaller ones. By the time he had returned to his room a full-fledged battle had ensued with millions of ants swarming inside the machine. Needless to say he decided not to turn it on again and we still don't know if the machine still functions.

That night we found a beach restaurant that served us wonderful Khmer fish dishes that prompted Bryan to say it was the best food he'd eaten in Cambodia. We ate and ate and drank beer and ate some more and in the end we were charged $35 for the lot, including tip.

We had planned to take a boat to Rabbit Island the next day but we decided it was best to get Arwen and Tobias to a doctor so we rented a minibus to drive back to PP. Again a mad dash through the countryside to stay at Tobias' favorite guest house called "OK Guest House".

The OK Guest House is a backpacker's place that is hard to describe. The central entryway is jammed with parked tuk-tuks, tables, and signs for tourism trips. The tv is always on with either a movie or CNN or BBC. Our rooms were clean although you got to them via a narrow stairway that ran along the outside of the building, around and around.

By the time we arrived it was too late to see much so Tobias and Arwen and Bryan took us to the FCC which is a restaurant frequented by western journalists. We ate up on the third balcony overlooking the Mekong River. The contrasts between what we as Westerners were privy to spend and what was going on down below is the streets - mothers using their sleeping children for begging on the street corners beneath flashing neon broadway signs that advertise Lexus and western clothes - it's hard to describe and contextually confusing until you grow used to it all.

Bryan took us the following morning to see the royal palace - a short walk from the OK. The Silver Pagoda was supposed to have a silver floor but they had covered it with carpets. The gallery of frescos were heavily destroyed by the Khmer Rouge' but parts were still visable. The many pagodas and the complete French wrought iron house sent by Napolean the 3rd had a seedy sort of ruty patina. But it was worth it to see what the Khmer Rouge' had preserved as a cultural heritage while they brutalized the common folk in work camps. We didn't have time to visit the Killing Fields museum that trip but Judith and I will be returning through PP on the way back and will see it on our own.

The interesting personal observation for me was how Tobias negotiated in the Khmer language - conversing with tuk-tuk drivers and talking with strangers. He seems to be a well-known personage and his cordial interactions put us all at ease.

We rented a taxi and were driven up to Siem Reap yesterday - another crazy driving experience and this time we almost got squeezed between a moto bike a car a truck and an ox cart as we zoomed along. It's a frightening experience to ride in these cabs for westerners I think but the drivers seem to take it all in stride. What normally is a six and a half hour bus ride was whittled down to four and a half.

Arwen and Bryan's house is a rental that was built last year and is a Western style exterior with marble floors and wainscotting in a gated yard. It's very nice with very high ceilings and decoratively carved furniture. They graciously let us have the room with ac - and we're grateful becuase it is swealtering. Their puppy is named Gogi and is a cute Khmer sort of mutt - black and a heart-stealer. Very smart.

Today we went to the farm of friends of Tobias' - John Morgan and Meako - out of town and had a Sunday dinner with their circle of expatriot friends. It was great to relax outside under the veranda and just talk and listen and feel a part of what's happening here. They all seem genuinely fond of Tobias and Arwen and each has a different set of stories about how they began their work in NGOs. .
Tempting stories. Very tempting.

On the way back from the farm - over the washed out red clay road - I sat in the back of the truck with Bryan as we drove through little hamlets of Khmer houses. Everywhere kids waved and smiled and seemed pleased to see the strange Barang so far from the tourist roads.

We drove through a section of the Bayon Temple - part of the Ankgor Wat complex - and stopped and climbed around in the dusk. Too difficult to describe the scale of just this one temple. We'll go back later to do a whole day of exploring. It was overwhelming.

As we drove home squadrons of fruit bats flew across the sky - hundreds of bats with wingspans about 2 feet - silent in the twilight, while cicadas droned deep eiry buzzes that sounded curiously like clarion horns in the forest.

For dinner we ate at a favorite Indian restaurant in the colonial section of town then walked to the hotel where Bryan works. Inside the five star hotel were modern sculptures and drawings and an amazing display of western opulance. We ate ice cream and gelato on large reclining beds in the lobby. Brian showed us around a little and then we headed back outside into the "other" Siem Reap with tuk-tuks and motos and children on the street hawking and begging.

Then home to bed. So many contrasts, Judith said it felt like cultural whiplash all the time.

All the friends who work at the various NGOs said it was like feeling the ground constantly moving beneath your feet. What was wattle yesterday is now a five star hotel. What was marsh is now a shopping mall. Somewhere, caught in the middle of this all, are the Khmer people - who have suffered so much in silence and without visible anger. The injured, the lost, the old, the young.... I just see in my mind's eye those kids waving to us from their shacks. And then the little three year chanting to us in the dirt parking lot, holding her plastic bag filled with string bracelets "Only won doe lar please. Only won doe lar please. Five for three dollar please. Only won doe lar please...."

She was no taller than Tristan and it made me cry.