Wat Preah Enkosei and its Angkor temples

On the first day of the Khmer New Year – year 2557 by their calendar – I set out to explore yet another of Siem Reap’s wats. This was the one I had intended to visit the previous day before I got sidetracked.

Although it is an easy two-kilometre walk from the central city, on the east bank of the Siem Reap River along River Road, I grabbed one of my local tuktuks, knowing I could enjoy the pleasant walk back a little later. This time we went further than Wat Preah Enkosa to the wat with the oh-so-similar name, Preah Enkosei.

This is a living wat, currently home to 35 Buddhist monks, but this is also the only place I know in Siem Reap where you can see Angkor temples, albeit small ones, for free. (I later found another freebie - see here.) Behind the modern temple sit two brick towers, the bases of two other structures, and the remains of the east gate of a complex dating from the mid- to late-10th century. It is possible that there were originally three towers but the third has now disappeared. As the platform base of the modern temple is made of laterite blocks, it seems likely that the building blocks of the ancient structure were used to help construct the more modern one.

The site was originally contained within a moat, though much of this has now been filled in and what remains has become something of a tipping place for garden and other rubbish. The towers, too, are now mostly ruins, though the larger of the two has a lintel with surprisingly well preserved sculptural reliefs. The broader lower panel shows a central elephant head flanked by dragons and other characters, while the narrow top panel features an interesting depiction of the Churning of the Sea of Milk. (This refers to a story from Hindu cosmology where the gods and demons toiled together for a thousand years to release from the sea of milk the nectar of immortal life.)

Gnarled old frangipani trees grew around the temples, filling the air with their sweet perfume and providing welcome shade on another of April’s over-40-degree days, and there was a pleasant breeze, so I sat a while in the shade of one tower, soaking up the peaceful atmosphere. I had expected the wat to be humming with New Year’s celebrations – and there were some (see my New Year’s blog) – but they were contained in two particular areas so didn’t encroach on the overall feeling of tranquillity.

The decoration on the modern building was relatively subdued for a Buddhist temple, but no less impressive. The reliefs above the doors and windows, the roof-edge ornamentation and the roof pediment decoration all gleamed with their gold and yellow paint.

Elsewhere in the wat, an ancient banyon tree was surrounded by more than the usual number of small shrines, and two stone Buddhas soaked up the sunshine, despite their golden umbrellas. All in all, it was rather a splendid start to 2557!

The burial stupas and a little monk washing

Beng Mealea

Volunteers Donna and Jill and I have had dinner together several times now and did so again Friday night, at the Red Piano, made famous by the patronage of Tomb Raider Angelina Jolie. Jill mentioned that she had a tuktuk booked to take her to Beng Mealea the next day and asked if we wanted to go along. 

I’d been before but agreed immediately to go again. I haven’t been doing much with my weekends recently so the chance of a long tuktuk ride out of the city and of flexing my IndiAnnie instincts clambering about amongst ancient ruins was impossible to resist. Donna hesitated as she was feeling weary after a long hot week at the volunteering coalface and, in the event, decided more sleep was preferable.

Not me! I set my alarm for 6am and got an early night, excited at the prospect of an excellent day out. Soon after 8 the next morning, I was at Jill’s hotel and we set off with Mr Ong, her favourite tuktuk driver, at about 8.20. Riding down national route 6 is always interesting, if a trifle scary with all the crazy drivers weaving madly in and out but Mr Ong proved capable and cautious, and saw us safely there and back for the very reasonable sum of US$35.

The road to Beng Mealea takes you down route 6 about 25kms to the town of Damdek, where you turn left and head out into the countryside through, at this time of the year, the bone-dry stubble of rice fields and an assortment of small settlements. The hot wind blasted my hair into the most unflattering of styles; I smiled and waved at small children playing by the wayside and women sitting gossiping outside their wooden shacks; I savoured the ubiquitous smell of wood smoke and used my ever-present krama to avoid choking on the equally ubiquitous red dust; and I snapped photos of locals perched precariously atop trailer-loads of wood or squashed four to a motorbike, plus shopping. These are some of my favourite things about Cambodia!

The entrance fee to Beng Mealea is just US$5, unrivalled value for the three hours we spent exploring. Most tourists probably take just half that time, but Jill turned out to be a like-minded soul, a Classics scholar like me, fascinated with ancient architecture and keen to explore every nook and cranny.

The name Beng Mealea means ‘lotus pond’ but the only flowers I saw in the 45-metre-wide moat that surrounds the site were water hyacinths. The tourist approach is across this moat from the south, along a causeway bordered by long balustrades representing the bodies of the seven-headed nagas that guard the causeway entrance. The south gate itself is blocked by fallen masonry, but authorities have constructed a series of wooden steps and walkways that carry the visitor into this masonry maze, up and over stone walls and cloisters to the rooftops and first floor levels so you can get an excellent idea of the layout of the temple complex.

One of the nagas, with the south gate in the background

Looking back out through the south gate from inside the complex

It is large – approximately one kilometre square – and has been greatly ravaged by weather erosion and rampant vegetation, with tree roots and strangler vines prising apart the massive stones, causing them to tumble into large mounds like some giant’s abandoned Lego. Nothing has been restored so you can get a good feel for what all the Angkorian temples would have looked like when first reclaimed from the jungle.

Little is known of Beng Mealea’s history or why it was built at such a distance from the main Angkor temples near Siem Reap, but its architectural similarities with Angkor Wat have led archaeologists to surmise that it was built by King Suryavaram in the early 12th century. Although it was primarily a Hindu temple, it also has some Buddhist carvings amongst its ruins. Few of the sculptural reliefs are in good condition but it is possible to make out scenes from the Hindu myth of the Churning of the Sea of Milk, apsara dancers can be spotted amongst the confusion of stones, and a lion’s feet sit alone, forever disconnected from their owner.

At approximately 75kms distance by road, Beng Mealea is far enough from Siem Reap to be spared the hordes of tourists that can nowadays spoil the Angkor Wat tourist experience, though the busloads have begun to invade here too. Luckily, it is still possible to find a quiet spot to marvel at the wonderful variety of butterflies fluttering around the stones, to linger while small lizards do battle over their territory, and to try to imagine what this enigmatic place was like in its heyday.

One word of caution … don’t wander off the well-trodden paths here. A sign near the entrance declares that 438 anti-personnel mines and 809 UXOs (pieces of unexploded ordinance) have been cleared from the area in the past 10 years but the work is ongoing!

Koh Ker : corker!

The splendid assembly of ruins at Koh Ker are where the capital of the Khmer world was located in the 10th century, when King Jayavrman IV decided, on his ascension to the throne, that the court should come to him, rather than him move to Angkor.

Australian volunteer Donna, Marianne and I visited this magnificent place last Saturday. It’s about a 3-hour drive from Siem Reap, partly on tarmac and partly on dirt roads, currently with many detours around half-built bridges. The price of the air-conditioned car, with driver, was US$90 for the day and the entrance fee – or, rather, the road toll – to Koh Ker was US$10, so it was not a cheap excursion but it was definitely worth the expense.

Once we turned off route 6, the main highway to Phnom Penh, and got out into the countryside, there was burning of the undergrowth beneath the trees throughout the countryside. Whether to clear the land for cultivation or for some other purpose we weren’t sure, but a pall of dense smoke covered the entire area.

The temples were impressive, spread out over quite an extensive area surrounding a large baray (reservoir) that we circuited but couldn’t actually get close to. We started at Prasat Thom, which initially seemed quite ordinary and was much ruined, though we did find a fine statue of a bull’s head. Apparently, Koh Ker is renowned for its massive statuary, but most has now been removed to the National Museum in Phnom Penh.

Prasat Thom had an extensive moat, where I photographed some lovely tree reflections, and was relatively quiet, except for the little daughter of the temple warden, who became a cheeky and noisy character once spoken to, echoing our hellos, singing loudly and pinching both Donna and Marianne on the bottom. Luckily, she soon ran off into the bushes, as the peace and quiet of Koh Ker was a major attraction – it is one of those places where you can hear the leaves fall! And we only saw two other groups of two tourists here and no more all day – fantastic!

A big surprise presented itself at the back of the Prasat Thom complex, where there is a huge, quite well-preserved seven-tier pyramid. The guidebook said you could get great views from the top but, in fact, the old wooden staircase was blocked off and was missing several rungs. The guide said we could climb it for $5 – a cheap suicide! The guide also said there were landmines so we made sure to stick to the well-trodden paths but, in fact, I think it was safe enough as there were ‘mine clearance’ signs at all the various sites here.

On the other side of the baray, the first three ruins were towers with linga shrines inside. Linga are large, phallic blocks of stone, fertility symbols that you are supposed to caress for good luck. I stroked my hand around the head of one – though I’m not sure exactly what sort of luck I should expect.

Prasat Krachap had an impressive outer gateway, with large scroll-like decorations above the pediment – the influence looked almost Chinese. There were also several columns with Sanskrit engravings in good condition and a couple of quite well preserved pediment reliefs.

Prasat Banteay Pri Chean was interesting. Large rectangular columns splayed outwards, seemingly in imminent danger of collapse, though they may well have been like that for centuries; there was one tower with nicely engraved red sandstone columns and pediment, and the tall ruined tower at the back seemed almost burnt inside – their stonework was very black.

The three towers at Prasat Chrap were similarly black inside – cremation towers, perhaps? – and hundreds of tiny yellow butterflies fluttered around them – I imagine them being the souls of the dead. The place did have a slightly spooky feel to it and the burning nearby only added to the eerie atmosphere. A few moments of drama followed when the scrub fires flared up right next to the road as we drove to the next temple. Defying the danger, we leapt out and took photos of the tall flames.

Next came Prasat Damrei – we christened it ‘Damn right’! At first we thought it was a single tower but, tucked off to one side through the trees was an enclosure where we found another tower with some lovely, almost intact elephant and lion sculptures. Elephants adorned three corners of the platform and one lion guarded the front entrance. Elephants were also carved in the pediment panel.

Prasat Neang Khmau was a single blackened tower but here the blackened stone was on the outside, so perhaps the discolouration is caused by something other than burning. I’ll need to investigate further.

Last, but by no means least, was Prasat Pram, a glorious place for the huge strangler figs that almost entirely encased two of its five towers. The destructive power of these trees can be impressive and they have caused huge damage to so many temple structures from the Angkor civilisation but here the two trees seemed almost to be holding the towers together. Their roots were amazing to behold. Prasat Pram was a splendid temple to finish off a magnificent, if incredibly hot and dehydrating day exploring the ruins at Koh Ker.