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