I have long been fascinated by Buddhism, so I was thrilled to return to Cambodia, where 95 percent of the population is Buddhist. One associates Buddhism with peace, serenity and spiritualism (not to mention Richard Gere), so to see Buddhism in action is quite an experience. It marked a complete contrast to my everyday life in the American urban culture of being busy, stressed and always multi-tasking.
Time seemed to move slower; especially in the rural areas. As part of a field visit, we wandered around a local food market during lunch time to see small businesses. The market was an open air one, with exotic fruits, vegetables and freshly prepared food. People meandered in from the village or their work to pick up little packets of sticky jasmine rice. To accompany this, they opted for spicy grilled fish and jumbo prawns which had been caught just hours ago from the Mekong River - a few blocks away. A blind man sat in the middle of the market singing and strumming his Cambodian sitar to collect alms. The whole market was a highly sensory experience. The shopkeepers encouraged us to try the jackfruit and green mango flavored with chili and infused with salt and fresh lime. We kept away from the fried insects which resembled fritters. This proves yet again that anything fried across the world appeals to people’s palates, whether KFC or tarantulas and crunchy spiders.
It is hard to reconcile the pervasive feeling of peace in modern-day Cambodia to its gory past
It is hard to reconcile the pervasive feeling of peace in modern-day Cambodia to its gory past. There was genocide in the late 1970s, when the ruling party Khmer Rouge engaged in a mass purification exercise that killed more than a million-and-a-half people. Such numbers are horrifying especially as one breaks it down to one in five people being killed. Pol Pot and his soldiers reputedly beat people to death with clubs to save spending money on expensive bullets. The rationale was to return Cambodia to an agrarian economy, Year Zero, which would be a classless rural society. Thousands of intellectuals, minorities, monks and soldiers were killed or driven into exile. The sites where these mass murders occurred are known as the Killing Fields. Though this sounds horrific and barbaric, it also sets the backdrop for modern Cambodia and how a country can recreate itself from a traumatic past. That history has paved the way for tourists to come to Cambodia - to see the marvel of the temples as well as the horror of the Killing Fields which testify to the countless deaths which took place. There is a dichotomy between the gentleness of the people one encounters and the viciousness of this path that led them to today.
Green mango an chicken salad, Cambodian style
Much has changed since the 1990s. What struck me was the number of civil society activists who had set up various schemes to rehabilitate and revive the local culture and economy. One such program was launched by Friends International, an international NGO which works with marginalised children and youth. In Phnom Penh, they have established a restaurant in front of a training center for children. Run by a local organisation “Mith Samlanh” or “Friends” in the local language, it has a colonial French chic which pervades the menu and ambience.
The concept is simple but so wonderfully executed - the restaurant shares Cambodian and fusion French food and cookbooks, while serving as a centre of vocational training for the youth. Young people are trained to be cooks, waitresses and bartenders. One can choose between Asian chicken stir-fries with mango, cashew nuts and wild flowers; or beef salads with szechuan peppers and crispy frangipani flowers. At the same time, the restaurant has produced and trained several young graduates who have joined the local hotel and restaurant industry and fulfils an important social purpose. It combines food, business, creativity and social good; all served deftly on a plate.
A Cambodian pagoda
It is hard to reconcile the pervasive feeling of peace in modern-day Cambodia to its gory past
Though the food is wonderful, the main draw of Cambodia is, of course, its temples: which have miraculously been preserved over the centuries. It is known as the Land of Temples to many, as it houses Angkor Wat, located outside Siam Reap. Even around the provinces of Phnom Penh, the temples and pagodas are decorated with gold leaf and give the impression of a lost time and land. Outside many of these temples sit landmine victims who have been rehabilitated by local NGOs to become singers or musicians.
The Angkor Wat complex itself is breathtaking and showcases the best of Khmer architecture between the 9th and 15th centuries. It also subtly profiles the spiritual journey as the Khmer converted from Hinduism to Buddhism over time. Throughout the main temple, one sees perfectly preserved representations of Vishnu, the Hindu deity. Over the centuries, the temples became used as Buddhist temples and were celebrated by French travelers in the 1800s and 1900s, when the temples were profiled in expos in France. As such, Cambodia and its temples were part of the French protectorate since the late 1800s until the Cambodians gained independence in the mid 1950s. Its status as a UNESCO World Heritage Site preserves the artistic and cultural legacy. My favourite remains the far-flung free-standing ruins of Bayon (which is the inspiration of King Louie’s abode in the cartoon Jungle Book). Angkor Wat is a visual treat, especially as it still remains protected by dense tropical foliage and forests.
Buddhist monks at Angkor Wat
Angkor Wat also subtly profiles the spiritual journey as the Khmer converted from Hinduism to Buddhism over time
One evening in Phnom Penh, I managed to escape to a local temple. A saffron-robed monk sat peacefully on steps leading into the main temple. We were surrounded by fragrant jasmine trees. The entire atmosphere was magical, with little fairy lights and candles lighting up the grounds as the sun set over the horizon. I was alone in this spectacular space with the monk. The monk looked at me and asked me three questions. Preparing to answer some profound questions on the meaning of life, I breathed inward and out slowly in anticipation. He asked me the following: “Where are you from, how old are you and do you want to take a photo with me?”
This somewhat surprising opening set off a long conversation. He patiently explained that the reason everyone in Cambodia asked my age was not out of curiosity or intrusion but more to ascertain how they might refer to me: the Cambodian equivalent of the informal “you”, reserved for younger people, or the formal version of “you” as a sign of respect for someone older.
There is an old Cambodian proverb along the lines of “negotiate a river by following its bends and enter a country by following its customs”. So I revealed my age unashamedly, took selfies with the monk (his request not mine) and then we settled into a companionable silent meditation.
