To My Very Good Friends, Jim and Eveline

Eva, Ev, and Jim...

Have you ever put yourself in a situation then asked the proverbial question, "Oh my what have I done?" I have. I mean, I did. I said "Yes" when Jim asked me to take the job in Cambodia, and subsequently I asked myself that question more than once. I asked it often in the days and weeks prior to leaving the United States. I asked it several times during the 20-some hours of airtime getting to Cambodia. And, I asked it nice and loud the night I spent driving the porcelain bus after I ate tainted mango.

...ride in a tuk-tuk with me and Sophie on my first day in Cambodia

At times, being away from home was difficult. I missed my wife. I missed the lifestyle to which I had grown quite accustomed in North Carolina. I missed my grandchildren. Knowing that this evening I'll be on a plane destined for home, all those feelings don't seem quite so critical.

Before I left for Cambodia, I worried about plenty of things. I worried about food and lodging. I worried about transportation and street crime. I worried about money exchange. I worried that I forgot how to teach. I worried that I would be miserable in Cambodia.

My home away from home

Well, let me tell you. Thanks to Savi's cooking and more exotic restaurants than I can remember, I managed to gain weight. My accommodations at Jim and Eveline's house were about as comfortable as humanly possible. Thanks to Savon and countless tuk-tuk drivers throughout the city, transportation could not have been easier or more convenient. Being here feels safer than it seems like it should. As far as money goes, in Cambodia, people prefer American currency. And, about my teaching, well let's just say, I remembered how.

Caught in a torrential downpour

I said to Jim many months ago that I did not want to be an imposition on his family. I even thought about renting an apartment for the duration of my stay in Phnom Penh. He encouraged me to check out the living quarters at his house first. I'm glad I did. Jim and Ev treated me like one of the family. They included me in their plans. They helped me get to the places I wanted to go. They even went with me a time or two.


Debbie and I first met Eveline 20 years ago soon after she came to the United States. It's impolite to tell a ladies age, so let's just say that she was young. Her English was rudimentary. I imagine she felt about like I did as I prepared for my trip to Asia. It has been my privilege to experience the Canavan household, witnessing first-hand Eveline's gentle nature as she rears her girls, Sophie, the equestrian violinist, and Eva, the blossoming artist.

Shopping at the Russian Market

I first met Jim more than two decades ago when he was the student-teacher in the classroom next to mine at Sparrows Point Middle School. Subsequently he was hired full-time, and we worked together there and at Catonsville High School for a total of six years. I was there when his career began, I watched from a distance as he and his family moved from continent to continent as his career progressed, and I am witness to the outstanding work he is doing at the International School of Phnom Penh. He done good.

Last week Jim told me about a long-term position at ISPP that starts next January. I wished him well in his effort to fill it.

So and The Bayon (at Angkor Thom)

My first full day in the land of Ancient Angkor began with an elephant ride.
It featured 14 different temples.

Feeding her one banana at a time must have seemed too slow
because she tried to grab the whole bunch from me!

Angkor Thom was one of the largest of all Khmer cities. It was built by the great king, Jayavarman VII and probably remained the capital until the 17th century. Like many other walled cities in Ancient Angkor (certainly Angkor Wat is the best example), Angkor Thom is surrounded by a huge moat. Angkor Thom left me with memories and acquaintances I might not soon forget.

One of the gates at Angkor Thom

The first temple at Angkor Thom was The Bayon, construction of which began about in 1200. Bayon is often referred to as "the one with the faces." Huge faces are carved into the 37 remaining towers (there were 49 originally). I had not gotten very far into the Bayon temple when I was approached by a man who explained the incense ritual being performed at one of the many shrines in the temple. (I expected to be offered an unofficial tour. Readers might remember Nop at the zoo who served in a similar capacity. As opposed to begging, these "tour guides" earn the money they receive. Their fee is negotiable, and by Cambodian standards can be fairly expensive.) That is how I met So.

So

We walked together through the maze that is The Bayon. So's knowledge of the temple was remarkable. Instead of following the flow of tourists, we used the road less traveled. He showed me things and told me things that I couldn't have seen or learned otherwise. He often asked me questions to gauge my level of familiarity before explaining something. (I think he used that technique to figure out how much detail to include. I'm tellin' ya, the guy was good.)

The Bayon

The day was hot (there's a news flash), and the inner portions of the temple were unbearable. Despite a pronounced limp, So could literally run circles around me. We explored, and we climbed. While I very carefully and very slowly climbed the ancient steps, So seemed to jog up them. I asked him about his leg and he rapped the side of his calf with his knuckles, making the sound of hollow plastic. "Landmine," he said. When he was 14 years old, he stepped on a landmine just outside of his village. His leg was blown off just below the knee. (Landmine removal and relief efforts are prevalent in Cambodia. To learn more check out http://landmine-relief-fund.com)

According to So the faces at four ordinal points represent
kindness, generosity, compassion, and community

I could not have scripted a better start to my day of temple-hopping. When we reached the end of the "tour," I thanked So for such a wonderful guided walk through The Bayon. I asked him to stay with me as I moved on to the three remaining temples at Angkor Thom. "No," he said, "I am expert on Bayon only. I stay here. I will find another foreigner."

One of So's foreigners

I couldn't help thinking how hard things are for So. He was born in one of the world's poorest countries, in one of its poorest regions, and lost part of his leg at such an early age. But you know, So wasn't asking for anything like sympathy. He was earning a living. It also occurred to me that he belongs there. So and The Bayon, like all the temples of Ancient Angkor, both reflect Khmer heritage--proud, dignified, accomplished. And in many ways both suffered a tragic fate.

One of many carvings of Apsara dancers at The Bayon

Angkor Wat

Angkor Wat is the grandest and most sublime of all the Khmer temples. Angkor Wat means "city pagoda," which is a fitting name because the temple was the center piece of a huge thriving city. Built as a Hindu shrine, Angkor Wat was later "converted" to Buddhism.

One such example of the conversion to Buddhism is the huge statue of Vishnu (currently located near the main entrance), which once probably stood in the center tower at the summit of the pyramid which is Angkor Wat.

To put it midly, Angkor Wat is majestic. Extensive renovation has denied access to the upper most levels of the wat, which was mildly disappointing. (But then again the view looking up the 50 degree stair cases--replete with very narrow, very worn steps--is VERY different than the view from the top looking down!) So, the decision whether or not to climb the final assent to the summit was made for me.

Gallery of Bas-Reliefs

Throughout the temple, wonder abounds. From the massive size of the moat (completely dug by hand using primitive tools) to the massive size of the temple, Angkor Wat was designed as the ultimate tribute to the Hindu gods. Just seeing the huge blocks of stone stacked one upon the next forming the towering gopuras makes the accomplishment seem even more remarkable. The artistry reflected at Angkor Wat represents thousands of hours of man-hours. The stone carving is astounding. Of particular note is the Gallery of Bas-Reliefs, the Battle of Kurukshetra, the Procession of Suryavarman II, Judgment of Yama, Heaven and Hells, the Battle of Lanka, and of particular note, the Churning of the Sea of Milk (approximately 150' long all of which except for about 6' was closed for renovation).

All throughout the temple, apsara dancers are carved. Notice the well-worn features on the photo above. Foreigners, no doubt.

The Best Laid Plans

Starting up the "hill" at Phnom Bekheng;
Notice the elephant loading stand in the background

On Friday, my plane landed at approximately 5:00 p.m. (in Asia you call that 17:00; I know, I know) by 5:20 p.m. I was climbing a hill along with countless other tourists to witness the sunset at Phnom Bakheng (one of the many ruined temples in Ancient Angkor). It rained. No sunset.

The ruins at Phnom Bakheng

Instead of getting up early on Saturday to see the sunrise at Angkor Wat (the most famous of the Angkor temples) I decided to delay that trip until Sunday. Saturday dawned clear and hot. Sunday...overcast. No sun in the sunrise. I'm sure the sun rose, but at 5:30 a.m. on Sunday morning, no go. By the time the sun broke through, it was well overhead.

The view from above at Phnom Bakheng

In my three days of touring Ancient Angkor, I saw and explored 16 temples. I witnessed the grandeur. I felt the history. I experienced these shrines to Khmer culture. And, along the way I met some very interesting people.

At Phnom Bakheng

On Saturday when I left the temple named Preah Khan, I felt some pangs of remorse for not buying something from the crowd of children that followed me most of the way from the temple to the parking lot where my taxi driver was waiting. The pleading of destitute children is not like anything one might experience in the United States. The children go from selling to begging as soon as they realize you are not interested in buying something. Although it is impractical and virtually impossible to give to every begging child, denying any particular one is never easy.

Neak Pean in the dry season

The next stop was Neak Pean, the island temple located deep in the Cambodian jungle. At first we drove past the entrance, and upon second-thought I asked the driver to go back. I am very glad I did because that's where I met Pretty Pun. After visiting the temple at Neak Pean, I was almost back to the taxi when I was approached by a girl selling postcards. I told her the same thing I told all the kids who approached me, No thank you. And, like almost every other kid in Cambodia who tried to separate me from my money, she persisted.

Pretty Pun

If my driver had been there I probably would have gotten in the car and moved on to the next stop. As it was, he was nowhere around, so I had time to hear the extended version of the sales pitch. I interrupted her by saying, My name is Jay. What's your name? She told me "Pun." Why are you so pretty? I asked her. She smiled and lowered her head, "I don't know," she said. Her sales pitch was well-rehearsed, "You buy postcard from me. Look Mister, Angkor Wat, Bayon, Ta Prohm, Bakheng, Bapuon, Elephant Terrace..." all the while shuffling the cards from front to back. "If you forget, you can look at back of card for name of temple," she said as she turned one over.

Yeah, I replied. You've been to all these places? That stopped her cold. She smiled, "No," she replied. "I have been only to Angkor Wat." What? I said fawning surprise. You're trying to sell me postcards and you've never been there before! That's false advertising! She giggled a self-conscious response.

What's my name? I asked her. She couldn't remember. Jay, I told her. "Jase," she said. No, Jay No s-s-s. "Jase," she tried again. No. Jay. Just Jay. Our English pronunciation lesson continued long enough for her to utter my name correctly. At that point I held out my fist and said, Knuckles. You have never seen a look of confusion like the one I saw at that moment. Look here girl, make a fist and you bump my fist. That means 'Good Job!' After a brief practice session, we got it right.

One of many stone carvings

Mind you, the discussion was brief and more fun than all the temples in Angkor. We were interrupted by two more girls who joined the party. When the second girl, riding her bike pulled up, I said to Pun, Tell her my name. Pun said, "His name Jase."

Close enough. (Yes, I gave each girl a dollar. I know, I know.)

Ancient Angkor

Pre-dawn at Angkor Wat

Soon after school ended on Friday, I flew to Siem Reap in Cambodia for a long-anticipated weekend spent exploring ancient temples. Located in central Cambodia, Ancient Angkor is home to over 250 Buddhist and Hindu temples, some as old as the ninth century. There are no photographs I could have taken which were more beautiful than those found in the tour books. There is no amount of eloquence that can capture the grandeur of Ancient Angkor. There is simply no substitute for being there, for experiencing first-hand the splendor of the temples.

Carving in a lintel above a doorway at Preah Khan

The most famous temple, Angkor Wat was built under the direction of Suryavarman II between 1112 and 1150. Most noteworthy in Khmer history though was Jayavarman VII who built the temples at Angkor Thom, Ta Prohm, Banteay Kdei and Preah Khan among others. A subsequent ruler, Jayavarman VIII was responsible for the destruction of much Buddhist imagry and tried to restore and improve important Hindu temples including Angkor Wat, Bapuon, and the central plaza of Angkor Thom. In fact nothing built after the 13th century has survived, mostly because the building materials were perishable. (After the rise of Theravada Buddhism, only wooden temples were built.)

40' stone face at the Bayon Temple at Angkor Thom

Although the wealth of Ancient Angkor is difficult to gauge, historians do know that Angkor began to lose its importance as a trade route when Phnom Penh gained in importance mostly due to its proximity to the Mekong River. Nevertheless, the Angkor Kingdom endured until the 16th century.

One of the many lions guarding the moat at Angkor Wat

Like Mother Like Daughter

Sokhom

Tucked deep in the Russian Market, there is a booth owned and operated by Sokhom Meas and her daughter, Dane Chhim. I first met them on a shopping trip with Ev. I knew what I wanted, and Ev knew where to find it. As I admired the collection of stone, bronze, brass, and silver plated sculptures, I spoke to Sokhom, who patiently described the pieces to me. Because I was buying seven of the same piece (Ganesha, the Hindu god of wisdom), she was willing to bargain. Before I knew it, both Sokhom and Dane were searching high and low for seven of the same piece. Ev bought a few things, and I made my purchases. That was the first time.

Dane

When we got home, I admired one of the 80 year-old amulets Ev had gotten there. As if fate intervened, Ev showed me a Dutch magazine article about amulets just like the ones she had bought. That's when I got the idea to buy an amulet and have it converted into jewelry. When I returned to the market, Sokhom and Dane seemed glad to see me, but then again Cambodians tend to be very gracious, and why wouldn't they? I spend. Let's just say they remembered me. (I'm guessing it's tough to forget a huge guy who appears to be sweating to death.) I not only bought an amulet, I told Dane about my idea to have it converted to jewelry. She said she knew just the person who could do that. Then, she took me there. That conversation with the silversmith left me convinced that despite Dane's translation, he did not understand what I wanted. (All I needed was that magazine!) Later that week, I was back at the market with magazine in hand. Dane seemed not to mind being my personal translator, and before long a deal was made.

Sokhom in her stall at the Russian Market

I've been to the market at least eight times for various reasons. I've been souvenir shopping with Ev. I've been gift buying with Jim. I ordered a dress shirt from one of the tailors at the market. I've been a bunch of times on my own. As I mentioned, I went three times alone regarding the jewelry I wanted the silversmith to make. On every occasion after the first, I saw Sokhom (and usually Dane). There was a very good reason for that. Sokhom and Dane are businesswomen trying to make a living like every other businessperson in Cambodia. And like so many people I have met, they are kind and unassuming beyond description. It seemed like nothing for Dane to leave her post at the booth to walk with me (three different times) to the silversmith. On the day I dropped off the amulet and Dane translated the "conversation" while the jeweler studied the magazine pictures, Dane said to me, "When you come back, you come get me and I go with you." That's how she is.


Earlier this week when Savon picked me up after school, he asked me as he always does, "Home, Sir?" No, I said. I need to go to the Russian Market. "Again, Sir? You buy more souvenir?" he asked. Not this time Savon. I need to see somebody, I told him.

When I got to their booth, Dane was combing her mother's hair. "Very slow today, Sir. We are glad to see you." I explained that I wasn't shopping. I just wanted to take their pictures and say goodbye. "But Sir, we get new Ganesh just for you," Sokhom said. Sure enough hanging from the display was a rather large likeness of Ganesha. "We know you like Ganesh, so we got for you to buy." How much? I asked.

...and then again

I was talking to Jeong Min before class. He asked me if North Carolina is near Ohio (because his family is moving there next month.) Our conversation lasted until Varikyutt (no photo available) entered the room. He must have heard us talking because he walked up to my desk where I was seated.

Jeong Min

A little background: on the first day of classes for me, I asked the students to write a short biography so I could get to know them. Varikyutt explained in writing that he had been previously taught in British International Schools. (Sure enough, he speaks with a perfect British accent.) He also wrote, "My hobbies are killing digital people, commanding armies, playing sports, and terrorizing my friends' secrets. I hate cartoons, and I've had bad experiences with Australians and Americans. My hero is Adolf Hitler." (How fast do you think I walked to the guidance counselor's office?)

Seven weeks later, as I finished my conversation about America that I was having with Jeong Min, I turned to Varikyutt and said, "See America is a pretty good place to live. You said you don't like Americans. I'm American and you like me."

In his beautifully deliberate Cambodian manner, with his beautifully deliberate British accent, he said, "No offense, but you kind of creep me out."

Twice in the Same Day

Fekre bides his time

Despite the fact that I told my students several times (nobody listens to me) and despite my many reminders that I am leaving very soon, the news of my departure is making its way through the ninth grade. Within one hour I was asked by two different students if it was true that I am not coming back next year. In both cases, it seemed like news to the student who asked.

Monika on the attack

I was passing the basketball court today and noticed my ninth graders involved in a game of dodge ball. That drew my attention, so I sat down to watch. It was really a kick for me because I love dodge ball. I can't remember how many dodge ball games I orchestrated in my eleven years as an elementary school teacher. Yeah, yeah, I know dodge ball is dangerous. OK, so they get hit in the face, they get hit in the head and they get hit...elsewhere. Sure, sure they smash into each other trying their best to avoid getting plunked. All right! It's a horrible game to which no self-respecting adult would ever subject their students. It's also the coolest game ever.

Seok Ha, Rick, and Hyun Woo

I sat with the injured reserves. Seok Ha had a pinky the size of a Cuban cigar. He showed me his injury. I asked him a few questions, and he explained the particulars of the game. We sat there together and watched. Man it was such a throwback for me. It was also cool because in that conversation, Seok Ha said more to me than in the entire seven weeks we worked together in English class. After a prolonged silence he said, "Mr. Thanner? Is it true that you will not return as our teacher next year?" It's true, I said. He turned his head away and said, "English will be boring again."

Norak

Not thirty minutes later as I was walking toward the front gate, a ninth grader named Norak asked me a similar question about returning next year. I reminded him that Friday was my last day and that I wouldn't return in August. He gestured his disapproval, and I thanked him for the sentiment. Then, as only an Asian kid can, he looked me square in the face and said, "Mr. Thanner, I will miss you."

Let me tell you, those guys sure know how to make an old guy feel good.