Great Sights (More Than Four)

Tuesday, March 8.

We were thinking about revisiting Angkor Wat, but decided to stop at a small temple we hadn’t seen and then go back to Wat Bayon in Angkor Thom.

The little temple is made of brick, and was built by subjects of the kingdom, and not under the direction of the king. It’s off by itself and made of brick. The royal temples are stone.

The Lonely Planet guide book, which exaggerates everything, said the temple, Prasat Kravan, has extraordinary wall carvings.

The wat is small, five towers rising from a base that may be five feet or six above ground. Three towers have had their lotus flower tops lopped off. The steps aren’t many, but they are steep and narrow.

The central tower has three reliefs of Vishnu. One looks like he’s dancing, but I read it refers to a story about how he reclaimed the world from the devil.

He took the appearance of a small monk and asked the devil for a plot of ground where he could meditate. Only as wide as three paces, he said.

When the devil agreed, Vishnu assumed such enormous size that he strode across the entire universe in three steps to claim it all.

The right hand tower has bas-reliefs of Vishnu’s consort, Lakshmi.

The carvings in the other three towers have been removed. Or lost.

The carvings were lovely, but I don’t think they are superior or even radically different from those at Bayon, which was built about 250 years later than the brick temple.

Of course, Lonely Planet also told us that Angkor Wat was going to make our spines tingle like no other sight could do. Turns out, it wasn’t a tingle at all, just sweat.

They say if you can only visit two temples, see Angkor Wat and Bayon. As far as I can see, you go to Angkor Wat to cross it off your to-do list. You go to Bayon, and Ta Prohm too, because they are fantastic.

The visit to Prasat Kravan brought us to the Angkor Thom about an hour later than we got there on Monday. At eight on Monday, it looked like Disney World with all the tourists. At nine on Tuesday, it looked like Disney World on a holiday weekend.

We climbed to the second and third levels, and even looked for the resident monkey, but it seems the crowds were so thick they intimidated even him. (We did see the monkey clan on the way over. They were out running along the Angkor Wat moat.)

I wanted to study the bas-reliefs carved into the outer walls of the temple. Many of them deal with battles between the Khmer and the Chams. We overheard a guide explaining to a tour group that the Khmer were identified by their long earlobes, like the Buddha’s. The Chams, who were a Chinese people, had small ears.

OK. Flat noses, long earlobes—we’re picking up a few points on classical Khmer art.

One of the scenes is a sea battle on Lake Tonle Sap that continues onshore until the Chams are defeated.

All along the bottom of the panels are people onshore doing common everyday things while the battle rages. Some are hunting, others farming. Some, the books said, are picking lice from each other’s heads, and there is a woman giving birth. Not sure how much license the writer took with those last two interpretations.

Other panels show the Chams winning and sacking a city. Angkor Thom, which means “Great Capital City,” was built as a new capital after the final defeat of the Chams. It was eventually abandoned because it was too close to the frontier with the Thais. The Khmer moved their capital from Angkor Thom to Phnom Penh.

There may have been an instance of Bowdlerism in one panel, which according to Lonely Planet, shows linga worship. The center of the panel has been replaced by modern, plain blocks. Could the linga being revered have been too graphic? Was it removed to protect public morals?

We were close to passing out in the heat. We were hungry and too hot to eat anything. So we said good day to Angkor Thom and took shelter back at the hotel, as usual in the afternoon. We did venture out for lunch. We went to a small place on Pub Street called Khmer Idea, where I had a curry made with pork, pineapple, and coconut milk.

The red chilis in the curry were uncut so the stew wasn’t overly spicy. I bit one, of course, and went through a lot of beer and white rice to ease the burn.

Joanna had a dish of stir-fried pumpkin that was originally supposed to include chicken, but she asked to have it without meat. No problem with that.

She asked to have it made without black pepper or chili. As often happens here, she was assured that too would be no problem. Apparently the kitchen didn’t get the message. We sent the dish back, and they tamed it the second time around.

We hid out in the hotel after that until almost seven. I wanted to look at the menu at a bar called the Red Piano—mainly because they advertise Belgian beers. Not on draft, but that’s OK, because Duvel and Chimay (I had one of each) are bottle conditioned.

Either I have totally forgotten how Chimay tastes or, like the Guinness, there is a wretched local version sold here. Chimay is a very strong ale, and it may include clove in the brewing. Either clove or a blend of hops that create a surprisingly clove-like hint of flavor.

In the Red Piano, though, Chimay was thick, syrupy, and sweet—the same as the export Guinness stout. Duvel, on the other hand, was the real thing. So that gives you two brews to avoid if you’re over here.

Joanna and I shared a local steak—again, tough but tasty. We had it with French fries (what else in a Belgian-themed bar?) and a sauce made of mushroom, mustard, and onion. Absolutely delicious.

A man sitting at the next table asked me about the Duvel. Is it German? No, Belgian.

We started to chat, and his wife struck up a conversation with Joanna at the same time.

His name is Tom. He and Sharon are originally from the U.K. now living in Australia. They’re on a holiday in Cambodia and are about to go to Hong Kong for a couple of months, apparently on business.

I forget how it got started, but he tried to explain rugby to me. I had been watching a game on TV at the U.N. bar a few weeks ago. The ball carrier was knocked down, and players from his team and the rival team piled up on him.

That didn’t end the play. He was allowed to hand off the ball from under that heap of humanity to a teammate, who continued the run downfield. That guy went down, handed off the ball, and they were off and running yet again.

OK. So how does a play end? It’s simple in American rules football, a ball-carrier’s knee touches the ground and the whistle blows. Tom tried to explain, but I still didn’t get it.

Joanna and I walked around the block a few times, ate some gelato, and went home.

Wednesday, March 9.

We’re starting to get used to rising in the morning. We were out by 8 o’clock to walk before the day heated up.

We went to Kings Road for breakfast. The Blue Pumpkin was open, but that was the outfit with the disgusting food that ripped us off at the airport, so I was having none of that. We settled on a Cambodian restaurant called Rohatt.

Not bad. The coffee was OK. Joanna had a bowl that included fruit, yogurt, muesli, milk, and honey. I had ordered pancakes and fruit. When it came, I was surprised to find that it was served with maple syrup. I had expected honey, which is all right, but I prefer the maple flavor.

We passed the market stalls and stopped in one with fantastic wood carvings—almost life-size figures of Chinese sages, 6- and 8-foot-high polished tree trunks with bas-reliefs, and lots of other things you won’t fit into your luggage. So I guess there is a market for that here.

Joanna was curious about beads made of a scented wood called agarwood. She didn’t find anything she wanted, but maybe she will later.

We strolled along the Siem Reap River, not anywhere near as picturesque as the Riverfront in Phnom Penh. There were a few restaurants and other small businesses, which appeared to be run out of private homes. Many of the buildings were unpainted wood structures with corrugated metal roofs.

We found a bridge over a small dam that brought us back to our original side of the river. We followed the river on that side and came to a place whose name is beyond me: Preah Promreath Pagoda, which dates to the late 14th century.

It includes a cemetery full of spirit houses for the dead. It also showcases a life-size sculpture group illustrating Siddhartha Gautama’s initiation into the way of the world, or “The Four Great Sights.” 

He had lived a sheltered life, and wanted to see more to the world. He went out with his charioteer. The grouping shows him in front of a sick man, an old man, and a corpse being eaten by vultures.

It was his first glimpse of illness, old age, and death. He had never seen or heard of them before. He got a little rattled when his charioteer explained that anyone can get sick, and that everyone will grow old and die.

On his way home, he saw a sage who had found peace by renouncing the world. The experience inspired him to leave his home and family and seek enlightenment.

There was also a replica of a boat carrying a monk.

Inside the temple there is a gallery of vividly colored wall panels depicting episodes from the Buddha’s life, including a representation of the Four Great Sights, his farewell to his sleeping family (another frequently painted scene), his hair-cutting and renunciation, and enlightenment. One panel may show Makha Bucha Day, the Buddha sitting with crowds of disciples around him.

One panel may be a story borrowed from the Gospel of Luke. It shows a woman drying the Buddha’s feet with her hair. Or maybe the gospel writer had heard the story about the Buddha.

[Editor’s note: Harry learned later that the woman in this case is Yasodhara, Gautama’s wife, whose tears washed his feet when he returned as an enlightened being. In St. Luke, the woman is an unidentified “sinner,” who brings a ritual ointment and also washes Jesus’ feet with her tears.

We came across a sign that explained the boat replica out front.

More than 500 years ago, a monk from this wat used to travel by boat to beg at a distant village. Even though it was a long trip, when he returned the rice in his bowl was still fresh.

One day, sharks broke his boat in two on the lake. He was in the bow, which miraculously did not sink, but instead raced back up the Siem Reap River so fast that it couldn’t fill with water and so returned him safely home.

The monks used that half of the boat to build a reclining Buddha.

Joanna and I found the reclining Buddha in the temple. The figure from the shoulders to the ankles is covered by a shroud. I went down when no one was near and touched it. It could be the hull of boat under there, but I don’t know.

Joanna found a pole with baskets of fruit attached to each end. We’ve seen people using similar devices on the street. She hoisted it onto her shoulder for a photo.

It was still early when we stepped outside, but we were already sweating. I had taken only one cup of coffee and wanted more caffeine, so we headed toward the market area near Pub Street.

We stopped at a cafe where I discovered something new. The menu listed watermelon juice (always a good thirst quencher) and “Buddha fruit juice.” What’s that? So I ordered a glass of it in addition to a pot of black tea.

Buddha fruit juice has a strange flavor, and we asked the waiter about it. He brought a couple of examples to the table. One was whole. It looked like a kiwi, but was so light when I picked it up that it felt hollow. He also had pieces that showed the seeds.

The juice is actually an infusion. The skin and seeds of the Buddha fruit are steeped in water for an hour and a half to make it. One Buddha fruit will flavor two liters of water.

On our way to the hotel, we stumbled on the market stalls where we bought Joanna’s saffron umbrella. They had more, so I bought her another, which I managed not to bend out of shape.

I have no idea how to get them home. They don’t even fit into my monster suitcase. But hey, people check skis on airplanes. I’m sure we’ll work out something.

We’ll be going out for dinner soon. I wonder what kind of beer I’ll find.

I’m starting to have some small affection for Siem Reap that I do not feel for Phnom Penh.

In other words, so far, so good.

Be well, all.

Harry