Wahey The Angkor

During our stay in Chiang Mai we had some more time to do some thinking about other volunteer work - we found a very interesting opportunity here. This seemed a better way of meeting and interacting with the people of the hill villages (and to be honest I was put off some of the organized tours by the glib descriptions that yelp "See Longnecks !" and the like). However, there were practicalities to consider, namely the impending expiration of our Thai visas during the projected stay. So, another backpacker favourite presented itself in the form of a visa-run to a neighbouring country, taking in the 'standard itinerary' of Siem Reap and Phnom Penh.

Kampuchea is a place where interior travel takes time. It's not somewhere you can rush about if you need to be somewhere quickly (or comfortably) - for reasons that might become clear later, it's a country that is very based in agriculture - most of the land is used for farming and there are very few roads that have any sort of constructed surface. Many buildings are of the shack variety, held up on stilts over rice fields with occasional brick buildings painted in the red and blue of the national flag. Most people adopt a 'Jazz' style of driving - swerving around potholes and dips, suggestions of a side of the road to keep largely being academic / impossible. The bus journey itself to the border town of Poipet and on to Siem Reap was a travel experience in itself - changing buses 5 or 6 times (about 15 hours in total), running the gamut from modern air-con cruisers to ex-army surplus. We hopped and rocked as on a cross-chanel ferry along undulating mud tracks and rusty bridges, pausing at the border to take on some essential cement bags (though if the weight helped us stick to the road, I was all for it). Packed along any spare floor space, this tended to draw alarmed glances from some of the girls - obviously they've never experienced the joys of riding around in the cab of a truck loaded with such materials (a staple of both my childhood and early twenties). I did wonder at one point if they were going to load a mixer and a couple of tons of ballast in as well - meal stops involved jumping out of the window.

The next morning we set off at five for a trip out to Anghor Wat on the back of some 'motos' (somewhere between a moped and a motorbike - they standard mode of travel in Cambodia) to see the sun rise over the temples. It's a fantastic way of getting around - you feel much more 'in the environment', though that environment inevitably includes lurking dips and wending around other motos. The silhouetted peaks of Angkor Wat clawed the sky as we slid to a halt - the air cool and tense with a shimmering potential, washing away the bleary indolence of very early morning.



The sunrise itself lasted only a few seconds, with a fractional burst blazing through the overcast sky. We had a look inside while some horses moseyed round on their morning trudge. Accounts of Cambodian history usually start around the 9th century as the Chenla kingdoms united under the rule of King Jayavarman II, starting the Khmer Empire and introducing the concept of Devaraja god-king for himself and his 39 successors. The temples of Ankhor are the remains of the cities formed during the period up until it's decline in the 15th century under raids from Siam forces. Most of the temples were lost to the jungle until re-discovery in the 1860s under French colonialism. Angkor Wat was built in the 12th century during the reign of King Suryavarman II and dedicated to the Hindu god Vishnu, later being converted to a Theravada Buddhist temple (around the 14/15th century). It's likeness can be seen on the current flag of Cambodia (and every since 1863 - the only building to appear on a national flag). Unlike other Khmer temples it is oriented to the west, rather than the east, leading to speculation that it is a funerary temple. Others say that this is more to do with it's association with Vishnu. The temple itself consists of three storeys, the uppermost being of a very steep gradient. I waited at the bottom for Dan to climb it, kept company by some numbnut who insisted on using his spanking new phone to play his own compilation of "Tha Shittest Choons In Da Wurld". Thanks for that, it really added to the mystery and awe of the place.

Over the course of the day, the motos took us to a number of different temples - I am told Ta Prohm provided the setting for the film Tomb Raider. It seems to grow down from the sky, the roots flowing onto the rocks and cradling them in it's grip.
















Bayon temple at the centre of Angkor Thom ("Great City"), showing an example of the imposing four sided Deva faces in the Bayon style. It has been described in places as having "poor workmanship and haphazard sculpting" or alternatively an example of the change to "quantity over quality". I found it to be one of the most interesting temples - it's strange and complex pyramid structure inviting you in and providing a wealth of Hindu and Buddhist influenced detail. Construction was still continuing up to the late 13th century, though the majority was under Jayavarman VII - it was the last of the great Khmer temples. Jayavarman VII's reign is regarded as the zenith of the empire's cultural and political power - thereafter it went quickly into decline.

It was not (as I had originally assumed) built in 1997 as a tribute to the Cypress Hill album "Temples Of Boom".



Detail of Bayon relief.

















We sped along over sloshing mud tracks and smooth main roads, having learned that the trick to riding on the back is to relax and just hold on with the tip of the fingers - instead of tensing up and not letting your weight shift naturally. We went for miles only occasionally seeing another vehicle (a number of which were trucks piled with about 20-odd people on the roof), occasional bouts of rain stinging the face. At Banteay Srei the palette of the stones shuffled to include earthy reds and browns among the usual mossy greens and greys.


























The ruins of Preah Khan - partially reclaimed from the jungle.

Chiang Mai

Post Bangkok madness, we dithered a bit as to what we should do. We'd decided to pass up the teaching work (and after giving it some time, I'm still convinced that was the right thing to do), so it was decided to catch the next bus to Chiang Mai, a very pleasant and popular launching point in the north of the country. Most visitors come for hilltribe trekking, Thai cooking lessons and the like - it's also host to a fine selection of vegetarian restaurants and 2nd hand bookshops. We also decided to take some time off the sauce, as Dan rightly pointed out this trip was turning into one long Saturday night.


It seems our timing was uncharacteristicly good, as we arrived just as the Visakha Bucha period was beginning - a national holiday traditionally on the first full moon of May (the 12th in this case). This is a Buddhist holiday celebrating the birth (around the 5th century BC), enlightenment (at 35) and passing (80) of the Buddha Sakyamuni. Chiang Mai has a host of temples (Wats), so this is an excellent place to observe the celebrations and customs of this time - many Buddhists believe that this is an ideal time to engage in good deads and raise their karma, increasing the chance of a favourable rebirth. No meat is eaten on this day, in fact there is a strong vegetarian theme overall, with captive animals being set free and donations for strays.

We visited the Wat Chedi Luang in the evening, one of the larger temples in the area - unforunately I'd missed a lot of the proceedings during the day because I was sleep deprived and couldn't drag my carcass out of bed - Dan managed to go and investigate it properly though, and has a very good writeup on his blog. I'm afraid I didn't enjoy the close company of the aggressive, gold digging, bone-headed disease bags that make up the local dog population - so I declined to donate to the Spongerels at the temple (though later relented at the market). However, it was a very pleasant atmosphere and a new perspective on a country that continues to intrigue. Later on in the week a good proportion of the old, walled section of the city turned into a huge market, with local musicians treating us to some sounds of Old Siam.


The inside of the THC rooftop bar - the same decor as a thousand Head Shops from here to Brighton - groovy !

Baht Rock

Thailand has been quite a mixed bag so far. I feel I should explain what happened with the teaching work before blathering on about the other stuff first. Early on we decided that, if possible, we would like to do some sort of volunteer work during our year abroad - our first lead having fallen through with the NGO in Sri Lanka, we were eager to follow up a potential teaching job in Thailand at the same place Jaz had taught. I don't really want to offer an in-depth dissection of what I now feel, but I think it sufficient to say that I (we) decided to turn the offer down on the grounds that some of the things we saw and heard were extremely troubling, and I was not fully confident of the situation that we would be placing ourselves in. There were too many unanswered questions, too much vagueness and the story kept changing with respect to what we would actually be doing. It could be that this is overly anxious paranoia on my part and that we may have passed up what could have been the most rewarding part of the trip - or we may also have dodged being in a very tricky and ethically suspect situation (not to mention the legalities of it all ...) On one side I feel hugely disappointed that I can't directly contribute something to the area that we are currently visiting, on another I think that working under a system that supports bribery and physical punishment of children is not something I could ever support. This has made me think more closely about the nature of volunteer work arranged on the road, and the conflicts of morality associated with it - you have to ask who directly benefits from it, and I don't think I could confidently say that it was the children being taught more than the balance books. So things haven't worked out exactly as we'd planned, but other options are being pursued albeit with more scrutiny.

Anyway, here's more stuff on drinking and music :


Back into the sweat. Bangkok ! It's like Mumbai, only slightly less populated and more relaxed (in both atmosphere and morals). We're on the infamous Khoa San road, where merchmen jostle with each other to flog knock off CDs or deep fried insects, people of debatable gender strut up and down, and the whole thing throbs to the mixed rhythms of either sub-standard Trance or tiresome repititions of The Red Hot Chili Peppers. Seriously, they don't play anything else. One nice thing is that shifty looking blokes keep asking 'Ping-Pong ??' at me - a kind if unexpected offer, however I've not played in years and have no wish to embarass myself. It's hot alright. Lakes of sweat (not perspiration) form on the brow and combine with acrid insect repellant, stinging the eyes. White shirts are dirty in 20 minutes, Friesian patterns form on coloured ones and my glasses keep skiing down my sodden nose with irritating regularity. Bars have water sprays on, doing a half-arsed job of cooling the air, which when it gets particularly bad makes you feel as if you're cooking or drowning when you breathe in. At times one feels like a big walking dollar sign, Tuk tuk drivers in particular always have an eye on the prize - almost resembling Scrooge McDuck with his monocle popping out when a potential earner strolls by. Breakfast is a delicious spread of beef noodles and Doxycycline.

Still, we've made some friends, chancing upon this band playing a gig in the road. This could have been any one of a thousand of nights at Windsor Arts Centre, a local band playing radiohead covers on semi-tuned Washburn guitars and Peavey amps. In the photo on the left they're playing the wailing bit from the end of Paranoid Android - something which is inextricably linked in my mind to watching Radiohead at Glastonbury, in the rain, covered in mud, after all my stuff had been nicked and one of my best friends was getting off with a girl I fancied. Still the yardstick for measuring teenage angst - on this occasion Dan and I warbled along whilst swigging from cans of Heineken. The second band on were an abominable nu-metal band, all digital effects and baseball caps. We stopped watching them to go and talk to the first band, and after blethering on for a bit they asked if we wanted to go and see their other gig at a bar in some backstreet (funnily, they also asked if we were drunk - good thing I'm not easily offended). We managed to find the Lullabar after a fashion and spent a charming few hours watching them plough through their set - this included a cover of When You Sleep by abrasive art-rockers My Bloody Valentine, and most of The Stone Roses back catalogue - providing the catalyst for some truly shambolic dancing. Making friends with a local band is an excellent way to get to know people and experience what Thai people get up to usually. Even if it is exactly the same as home. Oh, and Torquay stayed up this season - or at least that's what I could tell from Dan's Gallagher-esque bellowing in the internet cafe. Most of Bangkok is aware of the result as well - hooray !

The Grand Palace - built in 1782 after the ascension of King Rama I and currently home to the Emerald Buddha. The previous royal palace was on the west side of the Chao Phraya River, the king decided to establish a new base of administration and residence on the more defendable opposite bank. The Emerald Buddha is in fact carved from jade, and was discovered in Chiang Rai around 1434, covered in plaster. It was noticed some of it had flaked off in places, revealing a green stone underneath - hence it was named the Emerald Buddha. Here you can see the golden chedi and a giant mythological yak. I think.