Angkor Wat and other stones of history

The excitement built as we slowly got closer to the famous Angkor Wat, after all if you don't see Angkor Wat you have not seen Cambodia.  As we got closer the number of tourists slowly increased and so did the signs for NGO projects in the countryside. Coming from the outside in, it was remarkable to see the ways that this huge tourist draw shaped the lives and structure of the people surrounding the area.  

The complex of Angkor Wat is huge and represents the world's largest religious monument and at one time was the largest city in the world.   Originally a Hindu temple it was transformed into one of Buddhism and the mixing of the religions can be seen throughout the temples.  It was also the inclusion of both of these religions that gave the reigning king much broader and accepted influence in the area.   The structures have been almost always occupied since its creation in the 11th century although it fell into disarray by the end of the 12th century with many of the precious stones being stolen.

One of the remarkable things about biking to the area was to see the numerous temples outside the immediate vicinity.  One large complex we visited the day before has recently been established as a world UNESCO site.  Walking through miles of beautiful quiet forest with stunning temples we were the only tourists, a stark contrast to the main site that welcomes 500,000 people a year.

Our last day of biking as part of our tour was also the first of three days we ended up spending in this large vast complex that makes up the Angkor Heritage Site.  By biking with a guide we were able to go through sections we would have missed any other way such as biking for kilometers along the ancient wall or through ancient gates abandoned in the woods.  

Our time in Angkor reminded me that time is such a gift.  Time to try different places for sunrise.  The place made me reflect a lot on time, how time can change the way we perceive an event, how different shades and depths are seen through time and the beauty of time - the trees growing over the massive structures changing the temple over time, a place can go from the center of asia and the largest city in the world, to nearly a ruin, to a large tourist monument over time.   Angkor Wat reminded me of the Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein, giving something different to each who choose to sit with it, holding thousands of years of wishes and prayers and laying witness to time.

Getting up close with history  

We took hundreds of pictures - it was so great to be able to climb in and out of the ruins, seeing it all from different perspectives. 

Fun at the royal gates becomeing part of the artwork.  

Royal museum on the way to temples.  

The famous Cananball Tree and its daily healing flowers  

Quick get your picture.  The mobs of people always throw us off.   

The only part of this temple left is the gate held up by the tree that grew around it.  I loved the interplay between nature and history here. 

Lighting offerings at an abandoned temple.  

Here you can see both the Hindi God and Buddha carved together as the religion changed over time. 

Massive tress at the famous “jungle temple” made famous by Tomb Raider.  

Killing fields

The girls thought I should be clear upfront on what this blog post was about and to warn readers it is graphic, disturbing and unsettling and there is no way to sugar coat it. There may have been an attempt to bury the history of what happened in Cambodia but like the bones and pieces of clothing that stick up through the drying dirt and were uncovered ever rainy season, the brutality of this history of humanity is just under the surface of every story, every interaction in everyday life in this remarkable country.

I remember learning a little about the genocide of Cambodia but I am embarrassed to say before this trip I could have told you little more about the history than it was recent, there were many mass graves, politics I didn’t understand but an uneasy sense that maybe the world should have paid attention earlier.  What we saw and learned was sobering. Details that are shocking - one third to one half of the population was killed in 3 years. It was like a real life serial killer who gained political power who seemed to kill as much for the challenge of killing than any real means to an end. You were killed if you were educated, light skinned, worked too hard, not enough or questioned anything.  And their leader Pol Pot we were told comes from “Political Potential” and had a disturbing desire to document his destruction.

I have struggled getting this blog post up because what do you say to capture the world of emotion seeing your ten year old looking up at skulls stacked stories high?  How to do you explain to your 14 year old that yes, that sign says the tree really was used to beat children’s heads? What is the respectful thing to do when you notice a femur sticking out of the ground in the killing fields?  How to you keep your heart from skipping when the little kid on the street has the same shorts as the ones you just saw in a mass grave? How do you go back to school work when you just walked the walls of a school turned into a prison where blood stains still line the floors and  playgrounds are turned into torture fields? And what if after all of that you guide says now you can meet three of the prisoners here to tell their story? Do you say sorry? Do you simply let the tears flow freely? It reminded how I felt the day of the Newtown shooting, stunned beyond comprehension, not sure how to process it all and the only thing that felt right was to hug my kids.   

I realized after having kids how true it is that your heart lives outside of you and is no longer yours. Around those killing fields watching them take it all in, I felt so fortunate we have been able to raise them at a distance from such atrocities, but so deeply saddened such things exist.  

So yes my dearest girls, I think many would criticize us for taking you to the Killing Fields, but you are strong and brave and this is armor for you.  May the darkness of these fields help you to find the demons that hide in the shadows and give you the strength to shine light on them. You will know sadness and grief greater than you can ever imagine and I can not protect you from that, any more than these mothers could protect their children from this horror.  But may you also remember these people’s resilience, their happy faces, their playful “hello’s” and their ability to speak their demons. Me hiding the horrors of humanity will not protect you any longer as you break into adulthood. All I can do is send my wishes for you and this world you are inheriting and hope that it along with the millions of others wishes sent on Bhutanese prayer flags, Islamic morning prayers, Croatian churches and in peaceful Norwegian woods whisper back to you helping you be kind and courageous as you stumble into the future.

A stupa is traditionally used to hold the remains of important people and loved ones. Upon discovering this killing field outside of the capital and in the area of an old Chinese Cemetery and the hundreds of skulls they built a stupa to place the remains, almost like the tomb of the unknown soldier as a place to remember those who could not be identified.

Inside the stupa, skulls pilled high and sorted by age, and marked by gender and type of death if that could be identified.

Bracelets hanging on the tree to remember the children who suffered here. It was a humbling moment as our guide, the child of this war, told us her story and that of her parents and their escape. She told us of the mantra by the Khmer Rouge - “if you cut the grass, you must pull out the root” and so the brutality knew no boundary by age.

It was really hard to process this moment. I really appreciated their reflection, composure and reverence for this place.

At the base of the skulls were articles of clothing as well as weapons used in the graves.

I kept wondering what was going through their minds at this moment, hoping they will hold onto it as they move forward in life, remembering how people strive for peace yet so often know violence.

Our guide was truly a guide, making the sorties real, sharing her partner stories and talking to the kids what it was like to be a kid at that time.

Holding on to the barb wire surrounding the school that was turned into a prison.

At the end of the tour, three survivors sat with their stories and their families. It was humbling to go from a black and white picture of them in a cell to sitting with them at the gates. This man, full of smiles and kindness lived in the prison the longest of the survivors and we changed one of the girls reading books to this his, grateful again for this year of learning as we go.

Video: Biking Vietnam - Cambodia.

Biking to Cambodia

There is this balance, this challenge to getting off the beaten path, to see and learn what life is like in another place without getting lost entirely and doing it as a family of four.  Twenty years ago I would hop on a bus and see where I landed, but as a family, it is all just a bit more complicated - each with our own needs and desires and just a lot more people in the mix.

We decided to try something different and hired a guide to help us bike from Ho Chi Minh Vietnam to Angkor Wat in Cambodia.  The hope of biking was to get off the beaten path and take in the sights, sounds and smells a different way while all getting some exercise.  There were lots of hesitations. How would Traverse's back do? Could we all handle the heat? None of us have been biking or training for this, could we jump on and do it?  It was also a lot more costly than just taking the bus on our own, but after our day with Chu, where the girls had a blast, and we saw the possibility of life on a bike in the Delta, we signed up.

And how was it you ask?  It was everything all at once.  It was inspiring, beautiful, hot, dry, funny, stressful, challenging, rewarding and both ever changing and always the same.  It was something we would have never been able to do on our own.

Most of the biking was on small trails or back roads where local kids would see us and come running through the fields shouting "Hello! Hello!" and grandmothers would do a 180 watching Lily bike down the path.  People would stop our guide to tell him there was a road nearby and they were sure we could get a ride - after all, we looked so tired and sweaty, why were we biking? He would tell them we wanted to and we were going 50-60 km a day and they looked like they didn't understand.

There were days so hot and dusty you could ring your clothes out from the sweat, and everything was covered with orange-brown dust of the delta.

There were rewarding moments like when Lily learned to bike without hands through the deserted back roads of Cambodia.  And there were the moments where tears came when she tried again later up a hill on pavement and took a hard tumble.

There were moments of awe and wonder as the water buffalo ate in the setting sun among the rice fields or the reflection of the hard work for salt farmers collecting the dryng sea water by hand.

There were moments of pure bliss watching the girls chat about life, peacefully talking together through the countryside and moments where I was counting every second until the end as my body ached and trying to hide my exhaustion and put on a happy face for a kid who was done but still had miles to go.

There were hidden temple in the woods, newborn puppies, run down monasteries and killing fields.

There was Karaoke at random houses, local kids sitting in our lap enjoying a laugh as their mother counted and cleaned snails for sale.  Often our guide would stop at some random home and ask if we could hang out and take a break, both puzzling and delighting some local family.

We all got sick at one point.  I have never passed out vomiting before, but now I know what that is like, but the trip must go on.  Zofran, Imodium, Ibuprofen, and band-aids were our best friends.

I let go of many rules.  One day Isabelle biked most of the day barefoot - who was I to say shoes would be better?  She knows the risks at this point. None of us had biking clothes - we made do with what we had, and the simplicity of it was freeing.

We got behind on most everything, work, school, the blog -  just taking a picture was a challenge as you bumped over the dried dirt road, dodging a dog, or pig, or kid, or chicken and the motto "you can do hard things" was repeated more times than I can count.

We didn't make any speed or distance records, but we saw, we experienced we lived those ten days fully.  As Traverse said regularly, we could not think of another place in the world where you could bike for so many days on flat, basically bike trails with kids and see and experience so much rich local culture.  This blog and these pictures are just the tip of the iceberg of our trip within our trip, biking to Cambodia.

So much of the biking in Vietnam was like this, basically scooter paths that work beautifully as bike paths connecting the towns.

Passing on the left through the rice field near town.

The size of the Mekong Delta was impressive. It was dry season, but for days, everywhere we looked there was water. It is this huge labyrinth of water and land producing incredible qualities of everything. Fish farms, coconut plantations, flower fields, mango and mangroves. Many of the town as connected by these bridges - everywhere.

It was fun to be on bikes after they were such a part of daily life for so many years in these parts.

And then you would stop, and look up, and be stunned by the beauty. This was in Cambodia and when our guide came to where we were standing waiting for the girls he told us these horrific stories of the history of war and genocide in this area. It was hard to balance it, with the intense beauty and calm before us.

All day - this, “Hello!” “Hello!” “Hello!” - there appeared to be a pure delight the children took in seeing us bike past. They did not ask for money or “pen, pen” as I had experienced in Nepal, just a friendly hello and they would scream in delight when you waved back. The gift of kindness was striking on this trip. I would see another mother, a grandmother who would look a little weary at us as we past, and if you smiled, you would be greeted back with an eat to ear grin - gifts of kindness exchanged, each of us a little lighter in our loads.

And sometimes you would think you were on your own, and then four heads would pop out of the water shouting “hello!” as they and the water buffalo cooled on during this part of the dry season.

I missed so much of this moment trying to bike and not run into everything, but all of a suddenly all of these kids came running out from the school, jumping off the grass piles saying “hello, hello” and giving the us all high fives as we biked past.

Towards the end of a long day, these kids full of smiles came out to say hello. They were near where we packed our bikes back in the van to “transfer” down the busy road to town so we got some more time to hang out with them (and actually get a picture). Always a smile.

Pretty soon the same kids were loosing their shyness and coming up to us. The little one in the white and purple loved Isabelle, pulling herself into Isabelle’s lap and holding on to her. As we pulled away, we all wanted to stay longer talking about what their life must be like and wishing we got to spend more time playing with them.

One day visiting a temple that we were biking past and trying banana root that is in season only for a short time each year, this little one sat down next to me and started talking up storm. When I offered her some banana root, she kept looking at me puzzled, but all smiles.

At a run down monastery that a few construction workers were repairing as we got our bikes ready this sweet family made their way out of the shadows watching everything we were doing. The little girl came up, we shared some of our snacks.

Once we crossed the Cambodian boarder we biked for a while through some dirt back roads and made our way to the ocean. It was such a beautiful surprise and off went our shoes as we headed in the water.

The beauty of the ocean life.

Low tide, fishing boats at sea and the end of the day for us all.

And then there was the food. Most of our meals were with locals at outdoor restaurants on the streets. This one full of fragrant flowers was part of this never ending stunning array of produce in this part of the world.

But to balance out all the veggies were the drinks - this one time we stopped and this women brought out these super sweet red drinks and spoon fulls of sugar to put in it for the kids . You can’t say no, so we just laughed at the craziness of the year and how many things we would “never” do at home, we just shrug as part of the experience.

Here with our guide in Vietnam enjoying a laugh, a journey an a shared meal over pots of charcoal at the tables.

This was our lunch spot anther day - near the second capital in Cambodia and the kings grave huge masses of hammocks and raised beds can be rented for your picnic. Near by is rows of food for sale, slated fish, turtles, frogs, freshwater shrimp fries and spicy mango salads. We hung out here for a few hours, enjoying taking it all in. the only foreigners in sight and delighted by the new experiences.

One option in the market - crabs with their meat pulled out, mixed with seasoning and replaced in the shell, to be then grilled and sold hot.

More biking in Cambodia - you never knew what you would see on the road.

Here are piles of fried tarantulas and silk worms for sale at a road side stand. Not for tourist, for locals in route.

On our way through Cambodia we visited a few museums, here is Isabelle at the National Historical museum reading about the history.

And little Lily going through the HUGE doors. The scale of the temples kept catching me off guard.

Live eels and frogs for sale. The frogs were all tied together by their waist so they all were jumping against each other - preventing any one of them from escaping.

And another small local temple, to be seen and experienced without the throngs of tourist we would later encounter.

The river is a way of life around here. Transporting a great load down this small canal.

The beauty of the morning markets.

I could have spent all day watching these women talk, smile and sell their goods. It actually reminded me a lot of Seattle’s pike street market, just bigger, few tourist and almost all on the ground.

Ginger and lemongrass dominated the smell of the vegetable market.

Across the way from the veggies was the meat and fish section - lets just say this part didn’t smell as good.

The Costco of Vietnam where you can get all your food wholesale.

Many of the families who sell on the river, live on their boats, traveling with the seasons and the market.

And then there were the salt fields near the boarder - mile after mile of drying salt.

Getting ready to collect another pile.

Collecting the salt to take it in and dry it again.

Raking another pile.

It seemed like in most towns you would see the town pig trying to find some place cool.

Another stop along the road - the famous Kampot Peppers of Cambodia. It was amazing to see the old paper farms, see how they are grown, sorted and dried. The place smelled amazing and learning the history of these berries was fascinating.

More markets - this time with grilled salted fish from the river.

You know when you need a break - there is always Karaoke - Isabelle and our guide showing us how it is done.

This was another temple where at the top you could purchase a bird to free.

Lily letting hers go. We thought we were getting one bird to let go - some how we got a whole cage of them to let go - there was always this sense you were missing some key detail of the conversation, but just went with it.

Last day of biking was through the temples of Angkor Wat. It was an incredible way to see the place because you got to see so much of it that is missed by the main tourist attractions. Like this little tunnel in the woods. Biking along the wall, resting in the showdowns of this ancient city that once was the largest in the world.

Ahh, rest at the end of long morning of more heat, sights and sounds.