Faces and Places

The sun rises over Cambodia. Pi Seth slowly opens his eyes. Through the bamboo slats of his cocooned bedroom the warm light of this brand new day fills the room and gently touches his old and wrinkled face. It is a face that has seen much but conceals many of the memories. The hollow bong of the Meditation singing bowl reverberates from the other side of the temple. It is a simple yet profound sound that is as natural to him as the sound of his own breath. He washes his face and carefully wraps his orange robe around his body. A body that used to be strong and lean but now is a little weaker and softer. For me the vibrant bolt of orange against his brown skin provides the humblest form of beauty that Cambodia has to offer. After a modest helping of aromatic rice and fresh vegetables he makes his way out into the temple gardens where I wait under a tree for him. I am hot, sweaty and covered in a film of Cambodian dust but my polite smile hides my discomfort. As usual the younger monks come to the table to stare at me and giggle at my earnest attempts to speak Khmer. They laugh incredulously when I tell them I am not married. I tell them for now I have chosen to explore the world. They seem utterly baffled. I can see in them a curiosity for the modern world, they see in me a longing for the old. The conversation ends abruptly as they discover an enormous snake by the vegetable garden. Naturally they scramble over to play with it as if it were a toy! Later as I brave my way home on my ever faithful Moto I try to concentrate on Cambodia’s notoriously frenetic and lawless roads. Tuk- tuks, cars, motos, trucks, chickens, cows and child sized potholes are all out to get me. In the distance the post–monsoon paddy fields play home to the white-coned hats of Cambodian workers. The Asian sun beats down on me. A beautiful scene and one that will be etched in my mind forever. However it is old Pi Seth and his untold story that captivates me the most. One day I will return to tell it. Of that I am sure.