A wat or six

I think I am rapidly gaining a reputation as the Mad Wat Woman of Siem Reap, at least in the opinion of my friendly neighbourhood tuktuk drivers and their associates. I doubt if any white person ever in the history of tourism in this city has visited as many of the wats as I have. It’s a very good thing I’m leaving Cambodia soon as this could turn into an addiction.

I can’t help myself. These places have the most incredible architecture, and are often extremely colourful. They are almost invariably empty of tourists. They’re inhabited by friendly monks who are only too happy to practise their English by answering my questions and who seem to appreciate my interest in their sacred places. And, although these are all living monasteries where poorer members of the public can seek shelter in times of crisis and so are never entirely deserted, they are invariably tranquil places to wander around. They offer a fascinating insight into many aspects of the local culture, not just religion. And I love the tuktuk rides I have to take to get to most of them.

So, here are some photos of my recent explorations. All six wats are within 15 kilometres of the city centre, and situated close to the main road than runs from Siem Reap city to Tonle Sap, the largest lake in southeast Asia. I’ve drawn a rough map for anyone visiting the area who also wants to check these out.

Wat Svay

I walked to this wat, a hot sweaty walk there and back alongside the river with no shade. But it was worth every bead of perspiration. There are two temples here, an old one that is in a very sorry state of repair and, judging by the amount of bird poop all around it, is now more of an aviary than a place of worship.

In comparison, the new temple is a shining light of Buddhism, all golds and oranges, with the bright blue highlights of the garudas, the ornamental roof supporters. There are many other buildings, including an old meeting hall built on high stilts, perhaps an indication of how high the river waters can rise and threaten this place.

Wat Kong Mouch

Not much further down the river, this place is quite a contrast to Wat Svay. It looks much older and the grounds are quite unkempt, but the temple itself is no less elaborately decorated, with particularly beautiful windows and doors, and a ton of burial stupas lined up around it in neat, repetitive rows.

Wat Atwea

The next wat down the road is Wat Atwea but I’ll say little about that here so I’ve already blogged about my visit to this place. It has the added attraction of ancient Angkorian temples in its backyard so is worth a visit for those alone.

Wat Po Banteaychey

This wat was a wonderful surprise. The main temple is a colourful many-splendoured construction but there is so much more: an equally splendid meeting hall and lovely office buildings, many vibrantly coloured statues, a large pond with its own small temple sitting in it, and behind the main complex, an extra revelation – a square structure with peaked towers at each of the four corners and a huge tower in the centre.

Wat Aragn Sakor

The architecture of this temple is remarkably different from any other I’ve seen in Cambodia. Although its wooden window shutters are painted in bright reds, blues and golds, the rest of the temple is quite plain and painted a simple dirty white. And its columns are most unusual, with spiral fluting more reminiscent of an ancient Greek temple than something found in southeast Asia.

The rear of the wat backs on to farm land, and that was also like stepping back in time, as I watched a farmer ploughing his rice paddies with an old wooden plough and two large white cows.

Wat in Phnom Krom village

Last but by no means least in this little jaunt along Tonle Sap Road is the wat in the village at the bottom of Phnom Krom (phnom means hill in Khmer), where I had my very own little group of local girls as tour guides. This temple is a very tall structure, with wonderful multi-coloured bands around its base, garuda statues and mint-green-painted nagas guarding its entrance stairways, and an abundance of burial stupas filling its grounds. From the cremation chamber at the rear of the enclosure, you can look out across the fields or back towards the hilltop, where yet another pagoda sits, beckoning the explorer. But that, as they say, is another story.

Mariannie’s Martini Tour: shaken, not stirred

Marianne and I enlisted Mr T as our tuk-tuk driver and headed out of town on the road to Tonle Sap, the biggest fresh-water lake in South East Asia … but that wasn’t our destination. We were headed for Phnom Krom, the small hill near the entrance to the Tonle Sap boat tours and a significant local landmark, being the only hill for miles around.

We stopped at the bottom of a stairway leading up the hill and left Mr T to wait for us there. The steps were steep but my Peruvian-high-altitude lungs are still easing my climbing ability and, in an area with no other hills, it was nice to have views. The handrail was lined with engravings in Khmer and English text, with dollar figures next to them, as if people had donated money to fund the steps.

At the top we came out on a roadway leading to the top of the hill, still some way off. We hadn’t gone far before we came to a group of men, talking and playing cards in the shelter of a small open-sided hut. One, in a blue uniform, approached us, asking to see our temple passes (passes for the Angkor Park complex). We hadn’t been sure if we would need them or not, so pleaded ignorance and showed our volunteer IDs. The man agreed to let us in if we paid him a small bribe of $5. Though we were ethically opposed to this, it was better than paying $20 each for the temple pass and we didn’t want to waste our journey, so we paid.

We carried on up the road and were soon sweating copiously, while the man was probably gambling away our $5. At the top of the phnom (hill) there’s a modern pagoda complex and a remnant from the days of Angkor civilisation. The ancient complex was dedicated to the Hindu religion and constructed in the late 9th – early 10th century by King Yasovarman I in the Bakheng style. The three towers, dedicated to Shiva, Vishnu and Brahma, are now in very poor condition, the stone is much weathered and any sculptural details barely visible. Yet, as we wandered around them, we found ourselves surrounded by butterflies and able to enjoy the stunning views, difficult to capture on camera because of the hazy atmosphere.

The modern pagoda was interesting, too. There were statues of various characters from Buddhist myths, two huge white bulls guarding the entrance on one side, and human-like creatures with claw feet on another. The temple itself was full of the usual multitude of Buddhas large and small, small flags of recycled fabric strung across the ceiling from one side to the other, and brightly painted scenes from Buddha’s life covered the walls and ceiling. Outside there was a larger-than-life character dressed a bit like an ancient Superman, as well as statues of monks kneeling in a square around a shrine.

We were barked at quite loudly by a vicious-sounding dog, then, soon after, hailed by one of the monks and summoned to the building where he was. I now wonder if the dog had been trained to announce visitors! Monks don’t usually speak to women so we should have been suspicious of his motives. After the preliminary greetings and exchange of names, it turned out that the monk was soliciting donations and, in return for a small sum, we would have our names painted on the wall with the donation amount alongside. We succumbed and paid $5 each. One day I’ll need to return to see if our names really are on that wall!

After perhaps an hour, we headed back down to our patient tuk-tuk driver and were soon off to our next stop, Wat Chedei. Our route took us on to a dirt road, past rice fields, through a cattle and then a water buffalo traffic jam, alongside pools of water lilies and lotuses, past small farms and the occasional larger house painted in some garish colour, then on to another dirt road. This one was in very poor condition, with huge potholes, ruts and puddles – they call these dancing roads in Cambodia. It had rained the previous night which had helped to settle the dust but fuelled the puddles. “Mango rain’ one of our guesthouse security guards called it – rain to help fatten the mangos which are now fattening on the trees, ready to be harvested in April. Luckily we didn’t get stuck in the mud.

Eventually, after much dancing and shaking about, we reached Wat Chedei, in the middle of nowhere. Again there was a collection of buildings old and new. One, a former pagoda, was an almost total wreck – no roof, no windows or doors, grass growing on the floor, and a corrugated iron, makeshift roof over the Buddhas that looked incongruous in that setting. Things we saw: Aunty Betty’s red and pink café curtains hanging in the windows of the new temple; a gaggle of geese squawking at and chasing one of the flock; three long dragon-boats in a shed – bizarre when the only nearby water was a large lily-choked baray (reservoir); two lots of two kittens with very large ears and plaintive cries; two painted elephants guarding the main entrance, and red-and-green-painted temple dogs guarding another; a horrific mural that looked like the Buddhist version of hell; and no monks!

I posed on Mr T.’s tuk tuk before we left and, as we jiggled violently about on the road back to town, we decided we could open a tour company with me as driver – hence, Mariannie’s Martini Tours: shaken not stirred! The real martinis came later!