Temples, Pagodas, and Phnom Penh

Staircase in cave beneath a mountain-top pagoda

A busy two weeks, a broken laptop and a lazy Kieran has prevented me from updating my blog sooner. Over the past few weeks I've concluded my English teaching. On some of the days my students would take me out to some nearby mountain (more of a hill) with a temple or cave. It was great - i loved these day trips. The first trip took us to a mountain with a pagoda (buddhist place of meditation) on top. The views were beautiful, looking over the flat rice fields and the little remaining forests in this part of Cambodia, most of which have been chopped down to make room for agriculture. The rocky hills the locals refer to as 'mountains' just seem to pertrude randomly from the mostly flat landscape. Many caves are found in these rocks. We visited one that was used by the Khmer Rouge. It consisted of a dramatic drop where the soldiers would throw people down. The skeletons of the victims remained there, and were gathered in a glass case. Their clothes were in a separate cage for viewing. The cave continues further and deeper into the mountain: an unexplored labyrinth. People tell me of many who've gone missing down them. I wanted to go in, at least a little further, but my student guide was not so keen on the bats that were flying around. The thought of a fat cave spider falling on my neck and down my shirt put me off a bit too. We also got to hang out with some very tame monkeys. They are weird to watch, because of how human they seem compared to other animals. Watching how the mothers care for and interact with the babies was really intriguing.

We also visited another mountain with an ancient Hindhu Temple on top, similar in style and age to Angkor Wat, though not in size. It appears like an old ruin, with some of the structures still intact. There too we explored another cave, accompanied by a guide. We had a fantastic Khmer lunch that afternoon, in a small thatched platform on stilts over looking a pond. We ate on the floor with our hands till we were stuffed, and then relaxed in the hammocks. A storm came before we could depart, so we stayed there as the hill got battered by the rain.

A final trip with some of my students took me again to a hindhu temple nearby Battambang, this time not on a hill. I rode the motorbike there through the countryside. I love it! Though Vibal, one of my students who was riding with me, did not seem too confident in my ability - it's in my name (Driver)! I don't know what the problem was.

Aside from these outings, my past two weeks consisted of teaching english, with some students deciding that english class wasn't for them; for the younger ones it's their summer holidays, so it's gotta be hard to have any motivation for learning. I also spent some time battling with my slowly dying laptop. I got some film photos developed and put on a usb at a local shop for peanuts, but i think a virus might've been thrown in for free, though not intentionally. My computer started acting up, getting horrifically slow before refusing to start up properly. I spent the week prior to this trying to back-up all my files, which might have also been the cause of this issue - I'm not sure. Either way, I'm not confident whether the back-up was successful, so I hope when I return to England and send it off for repair I can get it back to normal. The problem is it has kicked of just before I head back to uni.

On Sunday I went to some rice fields with the bishop and some other volunteers to plant rice in the morning. It was great fun, though hard work. You basically wade through mud and water with a bunch of rice-lings  (made-up word?) that kind of look like spring onions. You force maybe 3-4 in the ground at a time, and the sticky clay-like mud 20cm below the surface water holds the rice upright. The sun was strong, and it may've been an hour before the petty and weak westerner felt hot, tired and hungry. It was great fun, and the laughs and a sense of community was strong among the workers; whether foreign or local.

I am now in Phnom Penh. I have come here with Mel, the volunteer housekeeper in Battambang. He has taken the opportunity to have a break from his normal work, and I want to see the city. There is also a national catholic youth gathering that is happening here in Phnom Penh this week, so most of the clergy from Battambang are here too. It happens every 3 years, and today we will attend some of it. Yesterday we went to the Toul Sleng Genocide Museum here in Phnom Penh. It is an old school, used by the khmer rouge as a prison (known as "S-21") during the Pol Pot regime. A dollar gets you into the compound, and takes you through a shocking exhibition of the brutality that place their. Photos and written accounts from prisoners take you on a heart-wrenching journey as you walk in and out of cells where people were tortured in the most horrific ways in order to confess crimes they never committed. You can look at the beds where innocent people were beaten, whipped, electrocuted and more, within an inch of their life, and often beyond it. You can view the numerous instruments and learn of viscous ways they did all this. I left just thinking how one could be driven to carry out such an act? When you see the old photos of a blood covered corpse lying chained on a metal bed frame, you wonder what can drive one human to do this to another? Few got out from the prison after the regime collapsed. Those who did were often artists and engineers who, under threat of death if they failed at exercising their skill to a sufficient standard (e.g. painting a life-like image of Pol Pot, or fixing a typewriter or sewing machine), were treated better by the guards because their work was of value to them. But many in the same position failed to impress and were killed there and then. A man happened to be at the museum that day who was one such person who was able to get out alive. He was doing a book signing. On the banner beside him it said how this man did not blame the guards, claiming something akin to "Who am I to say that, if I was in the same position [as the guards], threatened under death, I would not carry out the same acts out of  fear?". What a radical degree of empathy.

I go back to Battambang on Friday for one night, before heading to Siem Reap the next day for a further two nights. Whilst there I hope to see Angkor Wat. I fly home on Monday.

A storm coming in over the compound of the Apostolic Prefecture. These are pretty common, and great fun to watch.

I share a meal with local friends, some of whom I teach English

Visiting a temple with my gracious students and friends

Vibal (left), Marc (right) and I ride the motorbike to a pagoda.