Gods Lonely Man

Thursday, December 30, 2004

The temples of Angkor

For many of you, the temples of Angkor - generally considered to be one of the "wonders of the world" along with the Taj Mahal and the Great Wall of China - will need no introduction. For the rest of you uneducated souls, here is a bit of background information I just knicked from someone else's website.

"Angkor Wat is one of many structures which make up the once metropolis of Angkor, the capital of the Khmer dynasty from 952 a.d. until its fall in the fourteenth century. While the Khmer ruled over parts of Southeast Asia, Laos, and Vietnam, Angkor was the concentration of the Khmer’s prosperity. This bustling city covered an area the size of modern Paris, and its population dwarfed that of any city in Europe at the time, with approximately one million people."

We saw a lot of amazing things in all of the six countries we visited in South East Asia, but none of them were quite as amazing as Angkor. It was pretty much the last stop on our trip, but it was perhaps the one place we were looking forward to visiting more than any other. The idea of exploring temples that were more than a thousand years old was thrilling. We were not disappointed.

First sight of Ankor Wat

Orange trousers

Steve on the steps

View from the top

Ancient writing

A thousand years old

Bigfoot

Saffron, green and grey

Steve didn't want any postcards

The Cambodian jungle

The Pied Piper of Ankor Wat

Jungle temple

Sunrise at Ankor Wat

Beware of the crocs!

The crocs you should beware of

Cheeky monkey


Spectacular as some of these images are, it's a bit tiresome coming up with captions for all of them. So, here are some captionless photos for those of you who are really interested.

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The Killing Fields of Cambodia

On April 17th, 1975 the Khmer Rouge, a communist guerrilla group led by Pol Pot, took power in Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia. They forced all city dwellers into the countryside and to labor camps. During their rule, it is estimated that 2 million Cambodians died by starvation, torture or execution. 2 million Cambodians represented approximately 30% of the Cambodian population during that time.

The Khmer Rouge turned Cambodia to year zero. They banned all institutions, including stores, banks, hospitals, schools, religion, and the family. Everyone was forced to work 12 - 14 hours a day, every day. Children were separated from their parents to work in mobile groups or as soldiers. People were fed one watery bowl of soup with a few grains of rice thrown in. Babies, children, adults and the elderly were killed everywhere. The Khmer Rouge killed people if they didn’t like them, if didn’t work hard enough, if they were educated, if they came from different ethnic groups, or if they showed sympathy when their family members were taken away to be killed. All were killed without reason. Everyone had to pledge total allegiance to Angka, the Khmer Rouge government. It was a campaign based on instilling constant fear and keeping their victims off balance.

After the Vietnamese invaded and liberated the Cambodian people from the Khmer Rouge, 600,000 Cambodians fled to Thai border camps. Ten million landmines were left in the ground, one for every person in Cambodia. The United Nations installed the largest peacekeeping mission in the world in Cambodia in 1991 to ensure free and fair elections after the withdrawal of the Vietnamese troops. Cambodia was turned upside down during the Khmer Rouge years and the country has the daunting task of healing physically, mentally and economically.


In the countryside

In the city

A tiger and a three-headed snake

Phnom Penh sunset


Steve and I visited 'The Killing Fields', a fairly small area of land about 10km from Phnom Penh, where mass graves were discovered when the Vietnamese liberated the capital. It is a symbolic place (of course, Cambodians were killed in fields all over the country), somewhere the Cambodian people can come to remember the tragedy that affected them all.

We spent our time there in a kind of daze, failing to comprehend the scale of the tragedy that had taken place here, and in places like it all over Cambodia. It was not an easy day, but for me, the hardest part of it was reading the commemorative plaque, situated in a hut next to the stupa which contained the recovered skulls of thousand Khmer vicitims, recovered from mass graves in the immediate vicinity.

I reprint the text below. The English is bad, but I've chosen not to correct it because I think if I did it's power would be diminished. It certainly affected me most profoundly - after reading it and thinking about the horror of those times, I took myself off into a quiet corner and had myself a little cry. I don't know, maybe you had to be there.


The Most Tragic

Even in this 20th century, on Kampuchean soil the clique of Pol Pot criminals had committed a heinous genocidal act. They massacred the population with atrocity in a large scale. It was more cruel than the genocidal act committed by the Hitler fascists, which the world has never met.

With the commemorative stupa in front of us, we imagine that we are hearing the grievous voice of the victims who were beaten by Pol Pot men with canes, bamboo stumps or heads of hoes. Who were stabbed with knives or swords. We seem to be looking at the horrifying scenes and the panic. Stricken faces of the people who were dying of starvation, forced labour or torture without mercy upon the skinny body, they died without giving the last word to their kith and kin. How hurtful those victims were when they got beaten with canes heads of hoes and stabbed with knives or swords before their last breath went out. How bitter they were when seeing their beloved children, wives, husbands, brothers or sisters were seized and tightly bound before being taken to the mass grave!

While they were waiting for their turn to come and share the same tragic lot.

The method of massacre which the clique of Pol Pot criminals was carried upon the innocent people of Kampuchea cannot be described fully and clearly in words because the invention of this killing method was strangely cruel so it is difficult for us to determine who they are for: they have the human form but their hearts are demon’s hearts, they have got the Khmer face but their activities are purely reactionary. They wanted to transform Campuchean people into a group of persons without reason or a group who knew and understood nothing, who bent their heads to carry out Ankar’s orders blindly. They had educated and transformed young people and the adolescent whose hearts are pure, gentle and modest into odious executioners who dared to kill the innocent and even their own parents, relatives or friends.

They had burnt the market place, abolished monetary system, eliminated books of rules and principals of national culture, destroyed schools, hospitals, pagodas and beautiful monuments such as Angkor Wat temple which is the source of pure national pride and bears the genius, knowledge and intelligence of our nation.

They were trying hard to get rid of Khmer character and transform the soil and waters of Kampuchea into a sea of blood and tears which was deprive of cultural infra-structure, civilisation and national character, became a desert of great destruction that overturned the Kampuchean society and drove it back on the stone age.

Outside the stupa

Inside the stupa

Children behind the wire

Their only headstone

Outside the prison

Inside the prison

As a child during Pol Pot's regime, Steve's driver's fingers were chopped off because he took a banana

The following images are crude depictions of the kind of torture prisoners suffered in Pol Pot's prisons. Perhaps they are not truly shocking, especially out of context. However, they are not very nice either - so, be warned!

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Vietnam, S-S-Saigon

Much time has passed since that Saturday night in Saigon when I got more wasted than I have ever been before - or since. Quite a funny thing happened to me on that particular evening - funny ha-ha, funny peculiar, funny downright shocking if the truth be told.

I'm afraid that's not a story I intend to tell now. Instead, take a look at these pictures if you have a care to, and consider what life must be like in schitzophrenic Saigon - the Communist capital of Vietnam's south. A place where the Yankee dollar is prized above all other things. Where 'politically re-educated' Southern Vietnamese soldiers whisper that America really won the Vietnam war. Where ten year old children, older than their years, roam the streets after dark playing paper, scissors, stone with the tourists for chewing gum, invariably winning and in deadpan voices demanding, "Show me the money."

Uncle Ho

Catholic church

Saigon street scene

Beast

Turtle Power

Guardian

Shrine

Nasty engraving #1

Nasty engraving #2

Nasty engraving #3

Cudgi Tunnel

Guns! Guns! Guns!

The horn in Hanoi

We left Hanoi on the 22nd November, eight weeks ago - in travelling terms, a very long time, and so much has happened since! My memory of our time there has not faded all that much but perhaps my sense of the place has, which means that I don't really know how to approach this blog entry.

Looking back through my journal for some inspiration hasn't helped much. I discovered that it was during this period that my journal started reading more and more like a diary - it starts talking much more about my ever-changing state of mind than about what we were doing, or even how I felt about what we were doing. Although I'm sure that it would make some interesting reading, offering some unique insights into my frame of mind during this particularly intense period of travelling, I'm not quite ready to bare my soul completely to you good people.

However, I did find a short passage in my journal, describing my first impressions of the great city of Hanoi, which I reprint here.


Saturday 20th November, 2004
Location: Hanoi, Vietnam

I was told that there are 4 million people living in Hanoi and 2 million motorcycles. I can't quite bring myself to believe this statistic - surely it would mean that half the children in Hanoi have their own bike?! - but still, there are a lot of mototcycles. A lot a lot. A ridiculous number. Hanoi is like a narrow streeted Bangkok on speed. Compared to Hanoi, Bangkok is like a sleepy suburb.

Your first impression of the place is inevitably based on what you can hear because it is incredibly noisy. Vietnamese motorists like to use their horns. That's putting in mildly. The horn is indispensible - more important, certainly, than a mere engine. The roads are packed with vehicles of every shape and size (though mostly motorbikes), all of them jostling for position, following a mysterious highway code, all of them blaring their horns every few seconds in order to let everyone else on the road know that they are there. The result is a constant, intimidating cacophony of horns.


Hanoi: 4 million people, 2 million scooters. Approximately

The father of modern communism

Ho Chi Minh and me

Probably the best motorcyclist in the world

The banana market

Gently down the stream

Hoi An tailor-girl

Little lady

SEA Tour: Vietnam leg - the only match I won