Enlightenment through stone

Our pounding hearts stop as we slowly breathe in the crisp air at the edge of a tranquil reflecting pond. Farid, our 24 year old black toothed driver, ushered us out of his beaten tuk-tuk to stand in front of the heart of Cambodian culture— the awe-inspiring Angkor Wat. As we await the first rays of the dawning sun, we are enveloped by the shutters of cameras, foreign conversations tinged with a sense of tiredness and excitement, as well as the ever present nearby callings of young Cambodian child vendors. Suddenly, all the ambient sounds fade away as the sun makes its grand entrance peaking through the intricately carved temple mountains of the complex. Nothing would have prepared us for the beauty of this moment, not even Angkor Wat’s most famous travel brochure: the Cambodian flag.

As the sun hovers over the peak of the temple, our ears are tuned to distant sounds of a beating rhythmic drum accompanying the Roneat – the Cambodian xylophone. Our feet follow the distinctive pattern of notes to find a small concrete dwelling – the word ‘orphans’ scribbled on a box in front. Six boys sit cross-legged on a woven tapestry of patterned straw mats, each charged with a different instrument. With their freshly shaven heads, they don golden garments glimmering of silk and perform the ancient music of their ancestors.

Like a scene straight from the Indiana Jones franchise, we continue our odyssey. We explore through these ancient grey galleries punctuated only by the flowing fabrics of saffron hugging shadowed statues of a peaceful Buddha. We reach out to touch the walls heavy in reliefs weathered by preceding pilgrim hands. We trace our fingers over the detailed chariots, warriors and deities- feeling the ancient mythic battles of the Hindu epic Mahabharata. A mélange of Hindu and Buddhist influences adorn this 900 year old temple which has changed purposes over the centuries. Yet, beyond the brick and lichen covered sandstone, we notice remnants of a more recent history. This ancient holy of holies bears the marks of the tragedy that besieged the country only 30 years ago—the killing of a quarter of the Cambodian population.

Amidst the smell of burning incense and the nature devoured temples we continue to hear the child vendors. Infants approach us with their first steps holding onto nothing but an outdated postcard to sell. An older sibling is seen walking around with a metre high stack of books detailing the temple’s carvings looking for some relief. Enthusiastic twins call out in perfect English, French, Italian, Russian and Spanish to try and sell paintings that mirror their own beauty. These hopeful voices are the echoes of the 1970’s Khmer Rouge regime. The future of the country found in one of its most ancient sites.

As we leave from this temple a little more enlightened, we spot one more youth— a smiling black-toothed Farid— waving to get our attention as he prepares his tuk-tuk to continue onwards on our journey.