The Wat Thmei Buddhist monastery was a couple of blocks from our hotel. We'd passed it on our first trip into Angkor Wat and Ann had suggested that we add it to our itinerary. I spoke to our guide, Mr. Poy Pines, about it and found that he'd been raised there as a boy.
The Russians had built the place in the late 60s. Pol Pot had converted it into a court complex in '76 or '77. Here the victims of "Year Zero" had been made to confess, then were condemned to years of slave labor, starvation, and finally an anonymous death. This had been a place of torture and damnation, one of the Stations of the Cross that had helped to destroy 21% of Cambodia's population.
After the war, the place had sat empty for years, avoided by the local population because of the dark spirits they believed inhabited the place. Some 15 years ago courageous monks had claimed the complex and set about lifting the darkness.
We got there a little after 8 a.m., just as another group was leaving. The driver parked in the shade and Poy led us over to the pagoda dedicated to victims of Pol Pot's vision. Climbing the steps you see your reflection in the glass that separates you from the skulls and bones of the unknown men and women who passed through this place. These had been good people living in an unlucky time. There is little documentation of the victims, and what is there is fading from the communal consciousness of Cambodia's very young population.
We walked through the complex to meet some of the priests who live there. Most looked to be in their early 20s and shied away from our lens, not wanting to look directly into the camera. But there were a few who smiled and allowed our intrusion. Ann had to be especially careful not to touch any of them, which is expressly forbidden by Buddhist precepts. As we continued our tour, Mr. Pines pointed out the differences between the old pagoda style and the new style and the home-like structures that were beginning to replace them both.
Further into the monastery's interior we found an acolyte of tender years staring out of a barred window, which gave an eerie insight into the past.
After two hours we left the monastery and headed for downtown Siem Reap. I needed to make a stop at our hotel and get my hat. The sun was out and I was burning. The van pulled up in front of La Villa Mona and I jumped out. Unfortunately my foot got tangled in my camera strap and as I jumped, it flipped my camera out onto the ground. I stood there stunned. The 28/70mm lens had broken in half. I picked it up like it was a dead friend and sat it inside the van. I took the lens off the camera and put the pieces into a lens pouch and examined the camera body. Luckily the aqua-shield had protected it, and it seemed to be in good working order. I put on my 85mm portrait lens and clicked the shutter button. Everything seemed to be working OK, but my heart sank at the prospect of replacing the lens, a minimum cost of $1,250.
I got my hat and we drove to Siem Reap's main Buddhist temple in downtown. The inner face of the compound's outer wall is covered with scenes of the Buddha's life. Done in bas-relief and painted in bright acrylic colors, the scenes retell the important chapters of his journey. I was having a hard time adjusting my shooting style. With the 85mm I just couldn't be back far enough to capture an entire scene, so I had to choose what detail conveyed the essence of the scene.
Ann wanted some free time to just walk around and shoot people. We discussed this with Mr. Pines, and it was agreed that he and the driver would take a break and meet us at the top on Bar Street at 1:30. We spent the next hour walking and exploring the streets of the (tourist) center of Siem Reap. I spent a lot of time shooting architectural details, one of the mainstays of my work, and I found a couple of outstanding examples, along with a couple of beautiful girls in the park and a young rice merchant in his shop.
We went back to the antique shop we'd been visiting. Ann bought a couple more small buddhas and I finally got my knife with the beautiful bone handle and sheath. I also found some old Cambodian currency (from the Khmer Rouge era) with a beautiful image of a water buffalo.
It was another hot Cambodian day. We scooted from one shady place to another, finally making our way up to the second floor of the Soup Dragon. The restaurant wall is painted a strong yellow that reflects a happy hue onto the staff and patrons. We had the same waitress, and she laughed out loud when we ordered spaghetti again. We also asked for the usual large bottle of ice water and Diet Cokes. First we downed a couple of glasses of water to bring our body temperatures back into a somewhat normal range, then we turned to the "Pause That Refreshes" for some energy. They don't serve bread here with your pasta, so I also had to order some dessert to feel full.
We met Poy at 1:30 and he took us to Artisans d'Angkor, something like a crafts guild. They're continuing the tradition of Khmer-style wood and stone carving, silk painting and weaving, and lacquerware. I was a little afraid that this would turn out to be a tourist trap, where they try to unload junk on the unsuspecting, but once I saw the quality of the work, I was sold. Everything here was first-rate. I would have bought a ton of stuff but my frugal side got the better of me. Ann, on the other hand, bought a luxurious black silk outfit that looked perfect on her.
Back at La Villa Mona, for our mid-afternoon rest, I stripped, dried off, and lay down for an hour.
When it was time to get ready for dinner, I transferred all documents and cash to a dry vest and suited up with a clean T-shirt and britches. Travel Tip: I always take along a box of sandwich-size zip-lock bags to put my cash, wallet, and passport in. Everything stays dry and fresh. Gathering all my soiled garments, I stuffed them into the laundry bag and carried them over to Ann's. I picked up her stuff, then found the manager and arranged to get our clothes back no later than the next afternoon. That way we'd be able to pack tomorrow night.
Feeling reassured, I sat on the front porch of my bungalow watching the sun set and waiting for Mr. Pines to return.
Travel/Safety Tip: Before leaving home I get 200 new, one-dollar bills to use as tip money. I fold them into squares, and each day I place about 20 of them in one specific pocket in my photo vest. Tip money is the only thing I put into that pocket, so that without looking I know the denomination of the bills I'm handing out. Not having to pull out a big wad of cash and search through it to find the right denomination is a GOOD THING in a poor country.
We got back to Bar Street at 5:30. Misreading my watch, I told Mr. Pines to pick us up at 8 p.m. Once we were out of the van and on the second floor of the restaurant I saw a clock and realized my mistake. We had two and a half hours for dinner instead of our normal one and a half.
The waitress couldn't get over that we were ordering the same thing AGAIN and shook her head. Ann just laughed and told her it was my sense of humor.
We finished off our chocolate ice cream dessert and walked to the market. The market is a full block square. I'd estimate that there are somewhere between two and three hundred little stalls/shops catering to both local and tourist tastes. You wouldn't think so, but most of the shops close early. There were only a few still open as we started making our loop. Ann was looking for some kind of footwear, but when she spotted something she liked they couldn't find it in her size. We left disappointed.
I moved the ASA on my camera to up 1600 and started shooting some of the nightlife. It had been another tiring day, and lugging around a heavy camera is wearing. It was just 7:15 but my legs were giving out. We finally parked our butts at one of the Red Piano's outside tables and ordered limeade. Angelina Jolie had made this place famous when she was here filming Tomb Raiders. She and the crew came here after each day's filming and partied down. This was quite a few years ago, but to the people of Siem Reap it is like yesterday.
We sat there contentedly, shooting and absorbing the atmosphere and drinking our refreshingly tart drinks.
Poy showed up right at the stroke of eight, and we were back in our rooms by 8:30, looking forward to our last full day in Cambodia.
