Pre-Angkor stone-carving remains very modern affair
Written by STEPHANIE MEE
Monday, 26 January 2009
Nearly lost amid the violence and cultural nihilism of the Khmer Rouge, stone carvers continue to find markets for their ancient tradecraft
Veteran stone-carver Touey puts the finishing touches on a statue in Phnom Penh.
THE ancient art of Khmer stone-carving has its roots in the pre-Angkorian period and has been passed down from generation to generation of artisans for centuries.
Common themes in ancient Khmer sculpture include deities from the Ramayana (in Khmer, the Ream Ker), such as Vishnu, Brahma and Hanuman, as well as varying images of the Buddha reclining, standing with one palm facing outwards to signify protection from fear, or sitting in meditation in front of a giant naga (or snake) with multiple heads.
Not uncommon was the representation of the Khmer royalty or aristocracy in the form of various stone deities, a clear example of which can be seen in the massive stone heads at the Bayon temple at the Angkor Wat complex, which combine the image of King Jayavarman VII and Buddha.
During the Khmer Rouge regime, many skilled artists were either forced to work in the rice fields or perished in the horrors that marked the Democratic Kampuchea period and the civil war that followed. Those who survived had little means to begin carving again.
Cultural revival
Fortunately, the 1990s were a period of reconstruction, rehabilitation and revival in Cambodia, and numerous NGOs began helping disadvantaged Cambodian people to reintegrate themselves into the workforce. In particular, Chantiers-Ecoles de Formation Professionelle, and its offshoot Artisans d'Angkor, were established to help train underprivileged youth in the country's many almost-extinct Khmer artistic traditions and techniques, including stone-carving.
Today, large stone-carving production centres can be found mainly in the municipalities and provinces of Pursat, Preah Vihear, Kampong Thom, Banteay Meanchey, Siem Reap and Phnom Penh, though smaller centres exist throughout the Kingdom. In Phnom Penh, the bulk of stone-carving workshops can be found on Street 178, across the road from Wat Sarawan.
I learned from my uncle and other family members in our village.
Det Ourn, 16, works out of his uncle's workshop, Kon Khmer Sculpture on Street 178. "I learned from my uncle and other family members in our village," Det Ourn said. "First, I just watched others carving and I followed what they did. Then, I began to practise on my own, and today I can make any kind of statue."
Patience is key
One medium-sized Buddha statue can take up to one month to complete and involves considerable patience, Det Ourn said. "First, you paint an outline of the shape on the block of stone and begin to carve carefully with a chisel. When the rough shape has been chiselled out, you can begin to sand and polish the stone into the smooth, finished image. For extra details like eyes, mouths, creases in cloth and things like flowers, you can use a fine, small chisel or an electric sander," he said.
One veteran artisan says a variety of markets exist for today's carvers.
"The Angkorian, or traditional styles from the Ream Ker, are mostly bought for private homes, restaurants or businesses, while the traditional Buddhas and the modern, life-sized Buddhas and monks with alms bowls are generally bought for temples," said a veteran stone-carver from the Ta Phrom shop who goes by the name Touey.
Touey learned the art of stone-carving from his brother, who had learned it from their grandfather. Touey and his family were forced to work in the rice fields under the Khmer rouge. "Fortunately, my family remembered the traditional ways and we began carving again in the late 1980's," Touey said.
Most statues are made from sandstone from Preah Vihear or Kampong Thom provinces, while high-quality marble is sourced mainly from Pursat province, where stone-carving has become a major industry.
Statues range from grainy pink and grey sandstone pieces to smoothly polished marble, shining in colours from jade green to crimson to pale yellow.
Thanks to the perseverance of artisans and NGOs, stone-carving is on the rise again, and talented artists like Det Ourn and Touey can make a living doing what their ancestors have done for centuries before.
Reference Link Source: http://www.phnompenhpost.com/index.php/2009012623819/Life-Style/Pre-Angkor-stone-carving-remains-very-modern-affair.html
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Weighing Angkor
Monday, January 19, 2009
Weighing Angkor
The grand temple deep in the Cambodian jungle displays the glory of the Khmer empire
January 18, 2009
By NORMAN WEBSTER
The Gazette (Montreal, Quebec, Canada)
If all those lists of Places to See Before You Die seem to include Angkor Wat, there's a reason. It really is one to visit before that large, final stamp in the passport.
The man who "discovered" it for Europeans in 1860 had no doubts. "It is grander than anything left to us by Greece and Rome," said French explorer Henri Mouhot. Certainly, sitting high on the great temple's steps as the sun rises, while squeaking bats whiz past your ears, is one of those special moments in a lifetime of travel.
Angkor Wat is, in fact, only the centrepiece of a huge, sprawling complex in northwestern Cambodia. With its exquisite carvings, it was the glory of the mighty Khmer Empire, which ruled much of Indochina in the ninth to fifteenth centuries. It was abandoned after being sacked by the Thais in 1432.
The jungle quickly took possession. Today, huge trees dominate many of the sites, their roots knocking down temples or wrapping walls in embraces like giant squid.
Reminders of the region's violent history are all about, starting with ancient depictions of the 32 levels of hell and its gruesome tortures - freely adapted by the Khmer Rouges during their heinous rule from 1975-79. There are pillars pocked with machine-gun fire from the civil war, which ended in 1991. Red signs still warn "Danger!! Mines!!" A sad practice is the looting of Angkor. Statues, or often just their heads, have been chopped out and carried off by art thieves plundering this priceless asset. Things have improved since the war ended, but the jungle is thick and the thieves well-organized.
Looting has a long history here. One embarrassing incident occurred early in the last century, when the celebrated André Malraux, later to become a French icon as Charles de Gaulle's minister of culture, organized a heist from a temple deep in the jungle. He was discovered and arrested. (I heard a guide relate this story to a group of French tourists at Angkor. They were shocked. "Ah, non," they murmured. "Pas possible.") Politically, the country is more stable than Canada. After 23 years as prime minister, Hun Sen and his Cambodian People's Party received a fresh mandate last year in an election judged dirty-but-not-too-dirty by foreign observers. As the Economist quipped, "Until fairly recently, Mr. Hun Sen's critics had a tendency to die violent deaths. As he has felt surer of his position, politics has become more peaceful." No tale of Cambodia is complete without mention of Norodom Sihanouk, the pudgy, personable bundle of energy who first took the throne as king in 1941 and abdicated, for a second time, in 2004. Sihanouk led the country to independence from France, attempted (in vain) to preserve his people from the Vietnamese War next door, was overthrown by a U.S.-backed junta and even allied himself for a time with the Khmer Rouge (who, by his own account, killed five of his children and 14 of his grandchildren).
He was also a movie superbuff, directing and starring in long films of his own creation. One of them, Shadow Over Angkor, just might have been the worst movie ever made. It received a grand showing by the Cambodian embassy in Beijing in 1970, shortly before Sihanouk was to arrive for a visit. When the lights went up, veteran diplomats struggled for adjectives.
"Incomparable," breathed one, as he shook a Cambodian hand. These guys are good.
I was in the audience, too, a correspondent in Beijing. A week later, I covered Sihanouk's arrival. But there was a twist. While the prince had been away in France, melting off pounds at a fat farm, plots were being hatched at home. Ironically, Sihanouk's execrable film portrayed just such a plot, by CIA-backed generals, to overthrow him. In movieland, Sihanouk triumphed. In the real world, he got the chop.
The coup came while Sihanouk was on his way home via Moscow. He learned about it abruptly from Soviet Premier Alexei Kosygin. "We were in a car on the way out to Moscow airport," Sihanouk related wryly, "and Kosygin turned to me and said: 'You are deposed. Good luck.' " Then it was out of the car, up the ramp, and one poleaxed prince was on his way to Beijing. He would spend years there in exile, a pawn of the Chinese, reduced occasionally to handing out trophies at basketball games.
In Beijing, there were press conferences, interviews and lunches, all dominated by the former playboy. It was impossible not to like him. He could run through anger, supplication, injured innocence, slyness and dazzling happiness in a single sentence.
But always, underneath, there was sadness. For years he walked the tightrope. It was often an inglorious exercise, requiring ladlings of smarm and concessions to more powerful neighbours, but for a time it worked. Alone in Indochina, Cambodia knew peace. After Sihanouk's ouster, the horrors came - massive U.S. bombing, Khmer Rouge barbarism and the boot of the traditional enemy, the Vietnamese.
He is in Beijing now, for cancer treatment. Soon he will die. At least he tried.
Norman Webster is a former editor of The Gazette.
Weighing Angkor
The grand temple deep in the Cambodian jungle displays the glory of the Khmer empire
January 18, 2009
By NORMAN WEBSTER
The Gazette (Montreal, Quebec, Canada)
If all those lists of Places to See Before You Die seem to include Angkor Wat, there's a reason. It really is one to visit before that large, final stamp in the passport.
The man who "discovered" it for Europeans in 1860 had no doubts. "It is grander than anything left to us by Greece and Rome," said French explorer Henri Mouhot. Certainly, sitting high on the great temple's steps as the sun rises, while squeaking bats whiz past your ears, is one of those special moments in a lifetime of travel.
Angkor Wat is, in fact, only the centrepiece of a huge, sprawling complex in northwestern Cambodia. With its exquisite carvings, it was the glory of the mighty Khmer Empire, which ruled much of Indochina in the ninth to fifteenth centuries. It was abandoned after being sacked by the Thais in 1432.
The jungle quickly took possession. Today, huge trees dominate many of the sites, their roots knocking down temples or wrapping walls in embraces like giant squid.
Reminders of the region's violent history are all about, starting with ancient depictions of the 32 levels of hell and its gruesome tortures - freely adapted by the Khmer Rouges during their heinous rule from 1975-79. There are pillars pocked with machine-gun fire from the civil war, which ended in 1991. Red signs still warn "Danger!! Mines!!" A sad practice is the looting of Angkor. Statues, or often just their heads, have been chopped out and carried off by art thieves plundering this priceless asset. Things have improved since the war ended, but the jungle is thick and the thieves well-organized.
Looting has a long history here. One embarrassing incident occurred early in the last century, when the celebrated André Malraux, later to become a French icon as Charles de Gaulle's minister of culture, organized a heist from a temple deep in the jungle. He was discovered and arrested. (I heard a guide relate this story to a group of French tourists at Angkor. They were shocked. "Ah, non," they murmured. "Pas possible.") Politically, the country is more stable than Canada. After 23 years as prime minister, Hun Sen and his Cambodian People's Party received a fresh mandate last year in an election judged dirty-but-not-too-dirty by foreign observers. As the Economist quipped, "Until fairly recently, Mr. Hun Sen's critics had a tendency to die violent deaths. As he has felt surer of his position, politics has become more peaceful." No tale of Cambodia is complete without mention of Norodom Sihanouk, the pudgy, personable bundle of energy who first took the throne as king in 1941 and abdicated, for a second time, in 2004. Sihanouk led the country to independence from France, attempted (in vain) to preserve his people from the Vietnamese War next door, was overthrown by a U.S.-backed junta and even allied himself for a time with the Khmer Rouge (who, by his own account, killed five of his children and 14 of his grandchildren).
He was also a movie superbuff, directing and starring in long films of his own creation. One of them, Shadow Over Angkor, just might have been the worst movie ever made. It received a grand showing by the Cambodian embassy in Beijing in 1970, shortly before Sihanouk was to arrive for a visit. When the lights went up, veteran diplomats struggled for adjectives.
"Incomparable," breathed one, as he shook a Cambodian hand. These guys are good.
I was in the audience, too, a correspondent in Beijing. A week later, I covered Sihanouk's arrival. But there was a twist. While the prince had been away in France, melting off pounds at a fat farm, plots were being hatched at home. Ironically, Sihanouk's execrable film portrayed just such a plot, by CIA-backed generals, to overthrow him. In movieland, Sihanouk triumphed. In the real world, he got the chop.
The coup came while Sihanouk was on his way home via Moscow. He learned about it abruptly from Soviet Premier Alexei Kosygin. "We were in a car on the way out to Moscow airport," Sihanouk related wryly, "and Kosygin turned to me and said: 'You are deposed. Good luck.' " Then it was out of the car, up the ramp, and one poleaxed prince was on his way to Beijing. He would spend years there in exile, a pawn of the Chinese, reduced occasionally to handing out trophies at basketball games.
In Beijing, there were press conferences, interviews and lunches, all dominated by the former playboy. It was impossible not to like him. He could run through anger, supplication, injured innocence, slyness and dazzling happiness in a single sentence.
But always, underneath, there was sadness. For years he walked the tightrope. It was often an inglorious exercise, requiring ladlings of smarm and concessions to more powerful neighbours, but for a time it worked. Alone in Indochina, Cambodia knew peace. After Sihanouk's ouster, the horrors came - massive U.S. bombing, Khmer Rouge barbarism and the boot of the traditional enemy, the Vietnamese.
He is in Beijing now, for cancer treatment. Soon he will die. At least he tried.
Norman Webster is a former editor of The Gazette.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
From local streets to world stage
From local streets to world stage
Written by Peter Olszewski
Thursday, 15 January 2009
Anne Bass's biopic of street performer-turned-danseur noble Sokvannara Sar, which debuted at Siem Reap's Sofitel Hotel, chronicles the unlikely rise of an exciting new ballet talent
090115_07.jpg
Photo by: ERIN BAIANO
Sokvannara Sar rehearsing with Phillip Glass for Vail International Dance Festival in Colorado last year.
SIEM Reap scored a world-first in the international high-society stakes on Sunday night when Anne Bass, the Manhattan socialite, philanthropist, art patron and ex-wife of billionaire investor Sid Bass, debuted as a film director at a private preview at the Sofitel Hotel.
Bass is vice president of the Centre for Khmer Studies, and while in town for the annual board meeting she took the opportunity to exclusively screen her full-length exquisite and idiosyncratic biopic, Dancing Across Borders, about the transformation of Cambodian street dancer Sokvannara Sar into a rising ballet star on the US and European cultural circuit.
Sokvannara Sar's mother and family mingled with millionaires at the screening of the documentary-style movie, which unfolded a modern-day Eliza Doolittle-esque saga: wealthy US matron comes to Cambodia, spots a potentially talented US$30-a-month street dancer, plucks him from his Cambodian village and whisks him to Manhattan, teaches him English, educates him, trains him as a ballet dancer and launches him into society.
THIS BOY HAD SOMETHING ABOUT HIM THAT JUST GOT TO ME…HE WAS VERY CHARISMATIC...
Anne Bass told the Post she figured Sokvannara Sar could be a ballet star the moment she saw him, and likened his emergence in the ballet world to that of the notoriously impulsive Russian, Rudolph Nureyev.
Enormous talent
"I was visiting Cambodia with the World Monuments Fund in January 2000, and they worked with the Wat Bo Dance School directed by a woman called Boran Kim," Bass said.
"They performed at the Preah Kahn temple, and Sokvannara Sar was the lead in the Fisherman's Dance. I was very struck by his performance, and I just could not get the images of him and his performance out of my mind.
"I've been a big supporter of ballet all my life. I dance myself, actually, and I've seen thousands of ballet performances. And this boy had something about him that just got to me. He was very charismatic, very naturally musical.
"But in Cambodia, dance is really about the women. Women take the men's role, and men are relegated to a very secondary position, although that's changing.
"I kept thinking that he was just such an enormous talent and it was going to go to waste. I have this belief that is, you see talent, you have to nurture it. It's a responsibility."
Training in America
Bass shouldered her responsibility and took Sokvannara Sar to the US where, for most of this decade, he has slowly and, at times, painfully been inculcated into the arcane rituals of high-end ballet performance.
A further obstacle for the ingenue was that although he was only 16 when he arrived in the US, he was well beyond the age of kids traditionally selected for ballet training.
"The only other dancer I know who started as late as him is Rudolph Nureyev," Bass said. "And he was very similar in that he, too, had been a folk dancer, but in a Russian province."
The movie also features lots of performance footage culminating in a performance last year at the Vail International Dance Festival in Colorado, when Sokvannara Sar danced to the musical accompaniment of the legendary Phillip Glass.
Having previewed the film exclusively in Siem Reap, Bass is now figuring out how to premiere and launch Dancing Across Borders worldwide.
"I think I will probably premiere it through the festival circuit, but I haven't really decided yet which festivals would be best, or the best way to distribute it," she said.
"I don't want it to just be considered a ballet film. It's much more than that."
Phnom Penh Post
Written by Peter Olszewski
Thursday, 15 January 2009
Anne Bass's biopic of street performer-turned-danseur noble Sokvannara Sar, which debuted at Siem Reap's Sofitel Hotel, chronicles the unlikely rise of an exciting new ballet talent
090115_07.jpg
Photo by: ERIN BAIANO
Sokvannara Sar rehearsing with Phillip Glass for Vail International Dance Festival in Colorado last year.
SIEM Reap scored a world-first in the international high-society stakes on Sunday night when Anne Bass, the Manhattan socialite, philanthropist, art patron and ex-wife of billionaire investor Sid Bass, debuted as a film director at a private preview at the Sofitel Hotel.
Bass is vice president of the Centre for Khmer Studies, and while in town for the annual board meeting she took the opportunity to exclusively screen her full-length exquisite and idiosyncratic biopic, Dancing Across Borders, about the transformation of Cambodian street dancer Sokvannara Sar into a rising ballet star on the US and European cultural circuit.
Sokvannara Sar's mother and family mingled with millionaires at the screening of the documentary-style movie, which unfolded a modern-day Eliza Doolittle-esque saga: wealthy US matron comes to Cambodia, spots a potentially talented US$30-a-month street dancer, plucks him from his Cambodian village and whisks him to Manhattan, teaches him English, educates him, trains him as a ballet dancer and launches him into society.
THIS BOY HAD SOMETHING ABOUT HIM THAT JUST GOT TO ME…HE WAS VERY CHARISMATIC...
Anne Bass told the Post she figured Sokvannara Sar could be a ballet star the moment she saw him, and likened his emergence in the ballet world to that of the notoriously impulsive Russian, Rudolph Nureyev.
Enormous talent
"I was visiting Cambodia with the World Monuments Fund in January 2000, and they worked with the Wat Bo Dance School directed by a woman called Boran Kim," Bass said.
"They performed at the Preah Kahn temple, and Sokvannara Sar was the lead in the Fisherman's Dance. I was very struck by his performance, and I just could not get the images of him and his performance out of my mind.
"I've been a big supporter of ballet all my life. I dance myself, actually, and I've seen thousands of ballet performances. And this boy had something about him that just got to me. He was very charismatic, very naturally musical.
"But in Cambodia, dance is really about the women. Women take the men's role, and men are relegated to a very secondary position, although that's changing.
"I kept thinking that he was just such an enormous talent and it was going to go to waste. I have this belief that is, you see talent, you have to nurture it. It's a responsibility."
Training in America
Bass shouldered her responsibility and took Sokvannara Sar to the US where, for most of this decade, he has slowly and, at times, painfully been inculcated into the arcane rituals of high-end ballet performance.
A further obstacle for the ingenue was that although he was only 16 when he arrived in the US, he was well beyond the age of kids traditionally selected for ballet training.
"The only other dancer I know who started as late as him is Rudolph Nureyev," Bass said. "And he was very similar in that he, too, had been a folk dancer, but in a Russian province."
The movie also features lots of performance footage culminating in a performance last year at the Vail International Dance Festival in Colorado, when Sokvannara Sar danced to the musical accompaniment of the legendary Phillip Glass.
Having previewed the film exclusively in Siem Reap, Bass is now figuring out how to premiere and launch Dancing Across Borders worldwide.
"I think I will probably premiere it through the festival circuit, but I haven't really decided yet which festivals would be best, or the best way to distribute it," she said.
"I don't want it to just be considered a ballet film. It's much more than that."
Phnom Penh Post
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
From Bellydancing to Buddhist Dhamma
ppp: from bellydancing to buddhist dharma
By Phatry Derek Pan
At just 26 years old, Nath Keo had developed a case of ennui. Despite a successful multi-faceted career as a belly dancer, pop singer and occasional author of mystery thrillers, Keo was decidedly discontented.
Plagued by what he described as an "empty void inside," Keo, a Khmer-Canadian performance artist recently returned to Cambodia, turned his back on dancing, singing and scribing, and has taken action to address his spiritual needs.
"I have vowed to be a monk for at least one full year," Keo said. "It is the right thing to do at this stage of my life."
According to industry reports, Keo's Khmer-language pop album S'gath S'gath, or Keep Quiet, has been successful and earned the top spot in Root's Canada East Asia's World Music category.
As incongruous as it may seem, Keo told the Post that trading Canadian stadiums for Buddhist chants at Wat Tuol Towng in Banteay Chakrey, Prey Veng province, was a natural step.
"My father spent many years during his youth at Wat Tuol Towng," Keo said. "Much of my reason for committing to the monastery was to pay respect to my parents."
Born in Kav Lan refugee camp on the Cambodian-Thai border, Keo left Cambodia and has been living as an aneakajun - the Khmer word denoting an expatriate Khmer - in Canada ever since.
Some observers report that the term aneakajun has negative connotations in Cambodia. According to the stereotype, an aneakajun lacks understanding of their cultural heritage - specifically the ancient traditions of Buddhism.
"Many Khmer children abroad forget about our religious heritage," Keo said. "But it's harsh to say Khmer children raised abroad do not understand their own culture."
When Buddhism is removed from daily routine, children do not grow up with an instinctive understanding of their religious heritage, Keo said.
"Look at the practice of moving into a new home," he said. "In Victoria, we throw a party, we don't invite monks to give chants and blessings as is the case here in Cambodia. Buddhism is not visible in most Khmer-populated communities."
Although this means many young expatriate Khmers are unfamiliar with the rituals and practices of their native culture, Keo - seemingly drawing on Buddhist philosophy - suggests such aneakajun "have been chosen to be ignorant."
Keo's choice to immerse himself in his religious heritage was not a career-oriented decision. But he does hope to write his second book about his experiences as a monk.
His first book entitled, Bada, a fictional mystery thriller released in Canada in December 2005, had a first print run of 3,000.
Most of Keo's current responsibilities - teaching English to young monks and fundraising work for the pagodas - present few problems. But the mammoth task of learning the Buddhist rules and verses has proved more difficult.
"I may be thin but I eat a lot," Keo said. "In Buddhism, we cannot consume anything after noon apart from water. This rule, one of around 227 in total, is the hardest to abide."
Phnom Penh Post, Issue 15 / 09, May 5 - 18, 2006
Original Reference Website: http://phatrypan.blog.com/
By Phatry Derek Pan
At just 26 years old, Nath Keo had developed a case of ennui. Despite a successful multi-faceted career as a belly dancer, pop singer and occasional author of mystery thrillers, Keo was decidedly discontented.
Plagued by what he described as an "empty void inside," Keo, a Khmer-Canadian performance artist recently returned to Cambodia, turned his back on dancing, singing and scribing, and has taken action to address his spiritual needs.
"I have vowed to be a monk for at least one full year," Keo said. "It is the right thing to do at this stage of my life."
According to industry reports, Keo's Khmer-language pop album S'gath S'gath, or Keep Quiet, has been successful and earned the top spot in Root's Canada East Asia's World Music category.
As incongruous as it may seem, Keo told the Post that trading Canadian stadiums for Buddhist chants at Wat Tuol Towng in Banteay Chakrey, Prey Veng province, was a natural step.
"My father spent many years during his youth at Wat Tuol Towng," Keo said. "Much of my reason for committing to the monastery was to pay respect to my parents."
Born in Kav Lan refugee camp on the Cambodian-Thai border, Keo left Cambodia and has been living as an aneakajun - the Khmer word denoting an expatriate Khmer - in Canada ever since.
Some observers report that the term aneakajun has negative connotations in Cambodia. According to the stereotype, an aneakajun lacks understanding of their cultural heritage - specifically the ancient traditions of Buddhism.
"Many Khmer children abroad forget about our religious heritage," Keo said. "But it's harsh to say Khmer children raised abroad do not understand their own culture."
When Buddhism is removed from daily routine, children do not grow up with an instinctive understanding of their religious heritage, Keo said.
"Look at the practice of moving into a new home," he said. "In Victoria, we throw a party, we don't invite monks to give chants and blessings as is the case here in Cambodia. Buddhism is not visible in most Khmer-populated communities."
Although this means many young expatriate Khmers are unfamiliar with the rituals and practices of their native culture, Keo - seemingly drawing on Buddhist philosophy - suggests such aneakajun "have been chosen to be ignorant."
Keo's choice to immerse himself in his religious heritage was not a career-oriented decision. But he does hope to write his second book about his experiences as a monk.
His first book entitled, Bada, a fictional mystery thriller released in Canada in December 2005, had a first print run of 3,000.
Most of Keo's current responsibilities - teaching English to young monks and fundraising work for the pagodas - present few problems. But the mammoth task of learning the Buddhist rules and verses has proved more difficult.
"I may be thin but I eat a lot," Keo said. "In Buddhism, we cannot consume anything after noon apart from water. This rule, one of around 227 in total, is the hardest to abide."
Phnom Penh Post, Issue 15 / 09, May 5 - 18, 2006
Original Reference Website: http://phatrypan.blog.com/
The Pilgrimage to Phnom Kulen
June 12, 2006
day III: the pilgrimage to phnom kulen
By Phatry Derek Pan
Yabbing beyond the wee hours did not deter us busy bodies to wake up bright and early this Saturday morning. After all, it’s not everyday I get to visit the birthplace of the Angkor civilization – Cambodia’s most sacred mountain – Phnom Kulen. It is here in 802 on the peak of the mountain; King Jayavarman II proclaimed independence from Java, giving birth to modern-day Cambodia.
At the cry of the morning rooster, we speed raced out our old school Corolla and off our adventure began. Driving on nice paved road, we passed through the Angkor Archaeological Park where we noticed truckloads of waving teens smiling as they try to catch the attention of onlookers passing them. The kids would squirt water from their bottles as Tony and I could only make monkey faces and wave back in retaliation.
Less than an hour into our drive, we stopped off the national road to a traditional Khmer village. Because the road leads to Phnom Kulen, I can see how tourism has affected this once sleepy community. Our first step off the car, a flock of young kids rush to our direction. My krama wearing, Tony’s blinged out wardrobe, and a non-Khmer Susan; what more could we ask to attract attention?!?
The kids had a rainbow of kramas and flowers (out of some fruit shell) for sale. We had our breakfast there under a simple roof and bench set-up. For two thousand riels, we had a bowl of authentic nom banjok, a Khmer dish that consists of long thin white noodles with yellow curry like sauce on top. No, it’s not the Khmer version of spaghetti! I bought a couple kramas as I waved my good-byes to the beautiful smiling kids.
Smooth concrete now transform into red dusty dirt road. Peering in the distance is Phnom Kulen! Alas, we are nearing our destination. The spiral road leading to the foot of the mountain comes to a complete stop as we approach the entrance. Susan had to purchase a ticket for a whopping $20, whereas, us Khmericans, paid a thrifty 2000 riels (USD $0.50).
I anticipated traffic congestion, but did not expect it to such magnanimous magnitude! A thirty kilometer trip could easily be accomplished within 20 minutes, but not during Khmer New Year celebrations. In 56 modem like pace on a slim two way road, we lost patience half way up. Many locals have already started walking on foot; which served a faster medium than the four wheel machinery. We could not resist either.
I grabbed my backpack equipped with the essentials – a water bottle, camera, journal book, couple pens, krama, a swimming short and towel – and off in my Uncle Ho tire sandals trekking up to the peak.
In common Cambodian anarchy, thousands make the pilgrimage fighting the madness and confusion that engulfs the area. At the apex, locals would pay homage to a sacred temple where a large reclining Buddha structure resides. Vendors lined the path selling atypical touristy items: jewelry made of precious bones and stones, BBQ baby monkeys, and other tidbits uncommon at the temple confines of Angkor. Instead, I restocked up with water and changed for Khmer riels of 100. I am not going to make the mistake of donating dollars at every temple spot, it adds up fast!
I reached the top after climbing a long series of cemented stairs. First thing after taking off my sandals, I washed my face using sacred water that spewed from a well. It was ice chilled. Barefooted, I walked in crammed space to light incense and make money donations to various shrines and monks. One of the many attractions was a large snake that young kids petted. Naturally scared, I built the courage to touch the reptilian. (This new found strength might be due to my previous Sihanoukville trip where I had cobra blood whisky concoction and cobra meat soup). I did not have the patience, however, to walk up the stairs to the sacred temple because of the traffic. My view at the present was unbearable to imagine.
So we left the area and took a comfortable walking cruise along the river. Our goal was to head towards the waterfall for a swim before we have our late lunch. It was already 2 PM; the crowd was still growing by the second.
Clustered together are groups of families situated all along the stream where sets a tarpaulin mat and a cooler with food and beverages for picnicking. Young kids and adults could be seen running around and playing in ice cool shallow water. We continued strutting through the madness; extra attentive to our friends. We did not want to get separated and lost. About 25 minutes later, we found our bungalow where we took a breather and laid our belongings.
I changed into my swimming trunks by using a room rented for 500 riels (USD $0.12). Susan, Tony and I left the bungalow and walked down a long series of wooden stairs. It was quite a descent and a challenge due to its slippery nature. I could hear the water roaring louder and louder but the thick marshy greenery added to the climax before finally reaching the foot. There it was – the majestic Phnom Kulen waterfalls!
I can’t swim and for much of my life, been terrified of water beyond the chest level. But fortunately, the large pond area where hundreds of kids and a few dozen adults dipped in to, the water level was only around my hips. Regardless though, I was a bit weary walking inside.
Tony and I courageously climbed over a dozen of overgrown pebbles to get closer to the velocity of the raging falls. Photographers flock taking souvenir pictures of us re-enacting fighting scenes depicted on the walls of Angkor. With hanuman style poses characterized by its arching juxtaposition, kids naturally jump to look in our direction. Twenty snapshots later, the two of us meditated in Buddha style fashion under the waterfall, focusing and filtering out every sound. A tough challenge, I might add.
My once indestructible tire sandals gave up as the right shoe snapped while walking up towards our bungalow. We ordered a late lunch at around 4 PM that consisted of a BBQ chicken with thinly sliced sour mango and fish sauce, deep fried battered squid, beef skewers, spicy papaya salad, and an array of fresh vegetables. It was finger licking delicious!
At this time, pretty much of the crowd had dissipated. Young scavengers in their large empty rice bags have already begun searching for coconut shells and used bottle waters to resale. We finished our meal, called our driver just in time before sunset had befallen. We snapped a couple group pictures with the remaining amount of 100 riels found in the crevices of our pockets. I bargained last minute for a Buddha necklace made out of white stone or bone. Our day adventure had come to a relaxing conclusion and off we cruised back to Siem Reap city.
This was my first trip to Phnom Kulen and surely a memorable one to add to the rich collection of travel adventures in Cambodia.
The author can be reached at info at phatrypan dot com or 016 665 779.
Original website for reference: http://phatrypan.blog.com/
day III: the pilgrimage to phnom kulen
By Phatry Derek Pan
Yabbing beyond the wee hours did not deter us busy bodies to wake up bright and early this Saturday morning. After all, it’s not everyday I get to visit the birthplace of the Angkor civilization – Cambodia’s most sacred mountain – Phnom Kulen. It is here in 802 on the peak of the mountain; King Jayavarman II proclaimed independence from Java, giving birth to modern-day Cambodia.
At the cry of the morning rooster, we speed raced out our old school Corolla and off our adventure began. Driving on nice paved road, we passed through the Angkor Archaeological Park where we noticed truckloads of waving teens smiling as they try to catch the attention of onlookers passing them. The kids would squirt water from their bottles as Tony and I could only make monkey faces and wave back in retaliation.
Less than an hour into our drive, we stopped off the national road to a traditional Khmer village. Because the road leads to Phnom Kulen, I can see how tourism has affected this once sleepy community. Our first step off the car, a flock of young kids rush to our direction. My krama wearing, Tony’s blinged out wardrobe, and a non-Khmer Susan; what more could we ask to attract attention?!?
The kids had a rainbow of kramas and flowers (out of some fruit shell) for sale. We had our breakfast there under a simple roof and bench set-up. For two thousand riels, we had a bowl of authentic nom banjok, a Khmer dish that consists of long thin white noodles with yellow curry like sauce on top. No, it’s not the Khmer version of spaghetti! I bought a couple kramas as I waved my good-byes to the beautiful smiling kids.
Smooth concrete now transform into red dusty dirt road. Peering in the distance is Phnom Kulen! Alas, we are nearing our destination. The spiral road leading to the foot of the mountain comes to a complete stop as we approach the entrance. Susan had to purchase a ticket for a whopping $20, whereas, us Khmericans, paid a thrifty 2000 riels (USD $0.50).
I anticipated traffic congestion, but did not expect it to such magnanimous magnitude! A thirty kilometer trip could easily be accomplished within 20 minutes, but not during Khmer New Year celebrations. In 56 modem like pace on a slim two way road, we lost patience half way up. Many locals have already started walking on foot; which served a faster medium than the four wheel machinery. We could not resist either.
I grabbed my backpack equipped with the essentials – a water bottle, camera, journal book, couple pens, krama, a swimming short and towel – and off in my Uncle Ho tire sandals trekking up to the peak.
In common Cambodian anarchy, thousands make the pilgrimage fighting the madness and confusion that engulfs the area. At the apex, locals would pay homage to a sacred temple where a large reclining Buddha structure resides. Vendors lined the path selling atypical touristy items: jewelry made of precious bones and stones, BBQ baby monkeys, and other tidbits uncommon at the temple confines of Angkor. Instead, I restocked up with water and changed for Khmer riels of 100. I am not going to make the mistake of donating dollars at every temple spot, it adds up fast!
I reached the top after climbing a long series of cemented stairs. First thing after taking off my sandals, I washed my face using sacred water that spewed from a well. It was ice chilled. Barefooted, I walked in crammed space to light incense and make money donations to various shrines and monks. One of the many attractions was a large snake that young kids petted. Naturally scared, I built the courage to touch the reptilian. (This new found strength might be due to my previous Sihanoukville trip where I had cobra blood whisky concoction and cobra meat soup). I did not have the patience, however, to walk up the stairs to the sacred temple because of the traffic. My view at the present was unbearable to imagine.
So we left the area and took a comfortable walking cruise along the river. Our goal was to head towards the waterfall for a swim before we have our late lunch. It was already 2 PM; the crowd was still growing by the second.
Clustered together are groups of families situated all along the stream where sets a tarpaulin mat and a cooler with food and beverages for picnicking. Young kids and adults could be seen running around and playing in ice cool shallow water. We continued strutting through the madness; extra attentive to our friends. We did not want to get separated and lost. About 25 minutes later, we found our bungalow where we took a breather and laid our belongings.
I changed into my swimming trunks by using a room rented for 500 riels (USD $0.12). Susan, Tony and I left the bungalow and walked down a long series of wooden stairs. It was quite a descent and a challenge due to its slippery nature. I could hear the water roaring louder and louder but the thick marshy greenery added to the climax before finally reaching the foot. There it was – the majestic Phnom Kulen waterfalls!
I can’t swim and for much of my life, been terrified of water beyond the chest level. But fortunately, the large pond area where hundreds of kids and a few dozen adults dipped in to, the water level was only around my hips. Regardless though, I was a bit weary walking inside.
Tony and I courageously climbed over a dozen of overgrown pebbles to get closer to the velocity of the raging falls. Photographers flock taking souvenir pictures of us re-enacting fighting scenes depicted on the walls of Angkor. With hanuman style poses characterized by its arching juxtaposition, kids naturally jump to look in our direction. Twenty snapshots later, the two of us meditated in Buddha style fashion under the waterfall, focusing and filtering out every sound. A tough challenge, I might add.
My once indestructible tire sandals gave up as the right shoe snapped while walking up towards our bungalow. We ordered a late lunch at around 4 PM that consisted of a BBQ chicken with thinly sliced sour mango and fish sauce, deep fried battered squid, beef skewers, spicy papaya salad, and an array of fresh vegetables. It was finger licking delicious!
At this time, pretty much of the crowd had dissipated. Young scavengers in their large empty rice bags have already begun searching for coconut shells and used bottle waters to resale. We finished our meal, called our driver just in time before sunset had befallen. We snapped a couple group pictures with the remaining amount of 100 riels found in the crevices of our pockets. I bargained last minute for a Buddha necklace made out of white stone or bone. Our day adventure had come to a relaxing conclusion and off we cruised back to Siem Reap city.
This was my first trip to Phnom Kulen and surely a memorable one to add to the rich collection of travel adventures in Cambodia.
The author can be reached at info at phatrypan dot com or 016 665 779.
Original website for reference: http://phatrypan.blog.com/
Change touches all people, cultures
January 14, 2009
Change touches all people, cultures
An e-mail from a reader in Phnom Penh asked me for a column on globalization's effects on Khmer culture and traditions -- how the young generation "is enjoying" and the older generation "is suffering" from the change of culture.
As globalization affects local traditions and the conditions of lives worldwide, a consideration of its ramifications is worthwhile.
At the University of Guam, I participated in a program that brought some 20 public school teachers to my special introductory political science course. These elder Chamorros were clearly "suffering" from the changes brought by globalization: they complained their young ones were so busy enjoying American television shows that they no longer speak their mother tongue or know what their traditions are.
I told them I still speak and write my mother tongue and still lower myself when I walk in front of Khmer elders, in spite of years of what's known as acculturation in America.
A proverb goes, "The only constant is change." In Lord Buddha's teaching, nothing is permanent and man's search for permanency causes his suffering. Buddha affirms, "Everything changes, nothing remains without change."
Post-World War II technological and transportation revolutions brought the world much change. Men, money, materials and ideas flowed to and from the globe's different parts. I was growing up as the globe seemed to be getting smaller. Chapeau, scarf, leather shoes and suits -- "Fabrique en France" and worn by the Paris-educated Cambodian elite -- became subjects of ridicule by politically "progressive" teachers in my fifth- and sixth-grade classrooms!
But the revolutions didn't affect only Cambodia. The traditions, norms and modes of behavior of peoples were affected and challenged everywhere. The revolutions that brought people, cultures and different ways into close proximity also brought disharmony and fragmentation.
Another saying goes, "Life is change. Growth is optional. Choose wisely."
Life is learning, and learning requires unlearning and relearning things that already have been learned. Professor Henry Steele Commager (1902-1998) posited, "Change does not necessarily assure progress, but progress implacably requires change. Education is essential to change, for education creates both new wants and the ability to satisfy them."
This ability must include imagination, creative thinking, a positive attitude and positive action to tackle the problems and predicaments that life brings, so as not to be stuck in the usual reproductive thinking of the past. An ability to step outside of one's usual patterns to try something new -- a new way of thinking about something or of accomplishing a task -- can enable us to cope with the changes coming to each of us as commerce in goods, people, and ideas multiplies.
Today's technology has brought about a borderless world that is in constant movement, producing change upon change. There is no place to hide. The old concept of absolute, comprehensive, permanent and inviolable national sovereignty no longer exists.
Defined as "the intensification" of economic, political, educational, social, cultural and military relations across national states' boundaries, globalization relates everything to everything else, and events in one area will sooner or later affect other areas and the people there.
The New York Times' Thomas Friedman's "Learning to Keep Learning" (Dec. 13, 2006) posited we live in an era in which creative people thrive and nations that flourish the most are those that "develop the best broad-based education system."
Know what and what not to change, what and what not to oppose. It isn't smart when the world uses cyberspace and we use snail mail.
For Cambodians, how much of the Khmer culture and traditions do the younger generation actually know and appreciate? Many were born after Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge destroyed the old. It's hard to miss what they never had. Blue jeans and iPods are to enjoy; they're natural.
But why has the country's education system not ensured that the young ones know their culture and traditions?
Of the literature on Khmer culture and traditions, Sivone Brahm's "Guidebook for Teachers, Administrators and Educators of Cambodian Children," 1980, is by far the best and to the point. It cites Cambodians' codes of conduct for people of all walks of life -- good behavior, thoughtfulness toward others, duty to parents, families, society, respect for the elders and teachers. They are the foundation of being Khmer. To lose them is to lose the Khmer identity.
Imagination and creative, productive thinking, mentioned earlier, should help Cambodians salvage what is Khmer. Education and learning are in order.
However, Cambodians are also pragmatic. "Follow the river bend when travel by boat," Cambodians say, or as said in the West, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do." You take off shoes in Khmer home. But in the modern age of competitiveness, Cambodians' time concepts, or such Khmer characteristics of not to say or admit anything in order to avoid conflicts or hurting others' feelings, need revision in order to incorporate the concept of productive competition. The world river has its own winding to follow.
Globalization, propelled by technological advance, is here to stay. It cannot be stopped anymore than one can stop humans from thinking. It is said to increase risks and opportunities for the individuals whose actions can impact international relations.
A. Gaffar Peang-Meth, Ph.D., is retired from the University of Guam, where he taught political science for 13 years. Write him at peangmeth@yahoo.com.
To view the contents on www.guampdn.com, go to:
http://www.guampdn.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/200901140300/OPINION02/901140328
Change touches all people, cultures
An e-mail from a reader in Phnom Penh asked me for a column on globalization's effects on Khmer culture and traditions -- how the young generation "is enjoying" and the older generation "is suffering" from the change of culture.
As globalization affects local traditions and the conditions of lives worldwide, a consideration of its ramifications is worthwhile.
At the University of Guam, I participated in a program that brought some 20 public school teachers to my special introductory political science course. These elder Chamorros were clearly "suffering" from the changes brought by globalization: they complained their young ones were so busy enjoying American television shows that they no longer speak their mother tongue or know what their traditions are.
I told them I still speak and write my mother tongue and still lower myself when I walk in front of Khmer elders, in spite of years of what's known as acculturation in America.
A proverb goes, "The only constant is change." In Lord Buddha's teaching, nothing is permanent and man's search for permanency causes his suffering. Buddha affirms, "Everything changes, nothing remains without change."
Post-World War II technological and transportation revolutions brought the world much change. Men, money, materials and ideas flowed to and from the globe's different parts. I was growing up as the globe seemed to be getting smaller. Chapeau, scarf, leather shoes and suits -- "Fabrique en France" and worn by the Paris-educated Cambodian elite -- became subjects of ridicule by politically "progressive" teachers in my fifth- and sixth-grade classrooms!
But the revolutions didn't affect only Cambodia. The traditions, norms and modes of behavior of peoples were affected and challenged everywhere. The revolutions that brought people, cultures and different ways into close proximity also brought disharmony and fragmentation.
Another saying goes, "Life is change. Growth is optional. Choose wisely."
Life is learning, and learning requires unlearning and relearning things that already have been learned. Professor Henry Steele Commager (1902-1998) posited, "Change does not necessarily assure progress, but progress implacably requires change. Education is essential to change, for education creates both new wants and the ability to satisfy them."
This ability must include imagination, creative thinking, a positive attitude and positive action to tackle the problems and predicaments that life brings, so as not to be stuck in the usual reproductive thinking of the past. An ability to step outside of one's usual patterns to try something new -- a new way of thinking about something or of accomplishing a task -- can enable us to cope with the changes coming to each of us as commerce in goods, people, and ideas multiplies.
Today's technology has brought about a borderless world that is in constant movement, producing change upon change. There is no place to hide. The old concept of absolute, comprehensive, permanent and inviolable national sovereignty no longer exists.
Defined as "the intensification" of economic, political, educational, social, cultural and military relations across national states' boundaries, globalization relates everything to everything else, and events in one area will sooner or later affect other areas and the people there.
The New York Times' Thomas Friedman's "Learning to Keep Learning" (Dec. 13, 2006) posited we live in an era in which creative people thrive and nations that flourish the most are those that "develop the best broad-based education system."
Know what and what not to change, what and what not to oppose. It isn't smart when the world uses cyberspace and we use snail mail.
For Cambodians, how much of the Khmer culture and traditions do the younger generation actually know and appreciate? Many were born after Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge destroyed the old. It's hard to miss what they never had. Blue jeans and iPods are to enjoy; they're natural.
But why has the country's education system not ensured that the young ones know their culture and traditions?
Of the literature on Khmer culture and traditions, Sivone Brahm's "Guidebook for Teachers, Administrators and Educators of Cambodian Children," 1980, is by far the best and to the point. It cites Cambodians' codes of conduct for people of all walks of life -- good behavior, thoughtfulness toward others, duty to parents, families, society, respect for the elders and teachers. They are the foundation of being Khmer. To lose them is to lose the Khmer identity.
Imagination and creative, productive thinking, mentioned earlier, should help Cambodians salvage what is Khmer. Education and learning are in order.
However, Cambodians are also pragmatic. "Follow the river bend when travel by boat," Cambodians say, or as said in the West, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do." You take off shoes in Khmer home. But in the modern age of competitiveness, Cambodians' time concepts, or such Khmer characteristics of not to say or admit anything in order to avoid conflicts or hurting others' feelings, need revision in order to incorporate the concept of productive competition. The world river has its own winding to follow.
Globalization, propelled by technological advance, is here to stay. It cannot be stopped anymore than one can stop humans from thinking. It is said to increase risks and opportunities for the individuals whose actions can impact international relations.
A. Gaffar Peang-Meth, Ph.D., is retired from the University of Guam, where he taught political science for 13 years. Write him at peangmeth@yahoo.com.
To view the contents on www.guampdn.com, go to:
http://www.guampdn.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/200901140300/OPINION02/901140328
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