|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
back |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The next morning, after I had eaten a
huge breakfast from my pack, an older ranger came to take me on a
tour of the grounds, which were constructed around a small, but
picturesque lake. Our first stop was at the old French casino. It
was now overgrown and burned out, as it was slowly being reclaimed
by the jungle. With very little glass left in the windows, the
casino was a model of decadence in decline. It must have been good
to be French, back in the colonial era. Imagine the elegant parties
they must have had, dancing on the then manicured lawn, in the hot
tropical night. And, I bet they had great coffee.
Inside of the casino, the ballroom was immense, with a huge
fireplace in one wall. I am told that in all of Cambodia, there are
no existing photos of what the casino looked like in its prime. They
were all destroyed by the Khmer Rouge. There is, however, hope that
the there may be some in France.
As a result, you have to use your imagine to create the opulent
images of French colonial power. The walls, probably once covered in
guilt and fashionable stucco, were now covered with moss and mold,
like the French themselves. From the second story balcony, there was
a breathtaking view of the lush green valley, which spread out for
miles below. Across the complex was the lonely little Catholic
Church. A mist, blowing in from the jungle looked very eerie.
The next stop was the old Catholic church, which was like a
religious Dhien Bien Phu, caught between the excesses of the
colonial casino life and a changing political tide. Parallel to the
Saturday night parties, which raged in the casino, and Sunday
morning massed, said in the church, the unstoppable flow of history
would eventually bring the empire to an end, and later, the country
to its knees.
Inside of the church, I could still feel the faith of stone,
sleeping, waiting…But waiting for what? Cambodia needs faith and
prayer now. I wondered. The church was tiny, but so special and
picturesque. The altar was made of stone, as was the basin for the
holy water. What happened here?
Who had worshipped here? Who was the priest?
The spiritual quiet of the holy granite was disrupted by the
voluminous graffiti, the most of any building I had seen in
Cambodia. Most of the slogans were written by Australian tourists.
Would they do that to a church in their own country? One of them
read, So-and-so was here from West Samoa.
As much as I hate to see any graffiti at all, West Samoans should be
allowed to graffiti anything they wanted. There aren’t too many of
them, and even if they all came to Cambodia on the same day, it just
wouldn’t be that much graffiti.
Outside the buildings, there were stone balconies built into hill
the top all around. From an observation point behind the church, I
could trace with my eyes, as the jungle gave way to a blue sea. A
few lazy boats made their way along the coast, before disappearing
into the mist.
If there was one thing the French knew, it was aesthetics. I could
not have thought of a more beautiful place to build a retreat.
From the Catholic church it was a short walk to the Buddhist temple,
which was constructed of red brick. According to the head monk, the
original temple was built in 1924, but had been closed during Khmer
Rouge time. This one had only reopened in 2000. Before, both temple
and church were open. But now, only the temple survived. The French
were long gone, but the Khmers lived on.
Kr was here till 1980 he was farmer during KR time like everyone
exlse after he was adjan a monks teacher. No ines now because of
CMAC.
My guide, Luke Hon, was forty-one years old. He had been a soldier
from 85 - 2000. We go our twice a month each time for a week. A week
out a week in the station hard life. If we see illegal logging or
poaching we make arrest. Has anyone ever been shot, yes, but long
ago that doesn’t happen as much now. These day the poachers use
traps. So there is no one there when we discover them. But I have
been shot at a lot. Wild aid rained them. What I thought was a new
hotel was a new ranger station under construction.
Rangers go on patrol one week twice a month carry food., water
everything in their pack wweighs 30 kg 1 mag 15 rounds for AK 47
machete GPS camera team of 3-5 men. Compass damera look for illegal
logging and poaching. Don’t hunt with guns much mostly with traps.
Salary 30-40 a month want to avoid firefight but much less fighting
than in the past. Supervisor earns 50. map Fgave chocolate to vanak
brother we talked like friends my khemr not good enough for
interview but I plied him with food and let him relaxt and chat and
I got ,mys toriye. He said he doesn’t have a girlfriend buyt he
lieks asian gorls better than foreigner.s he likes Chinese Japanese
khemr all the same. I said I like Japanese better because they have
money we laughed.
Cambodia has ben the center of all of the action in southeast Asia
but more a catalyst or pobserver than a mani stage actor Cambodia I
the etrernal operation side show, the new jersey of southeast Asia.
Trapped between Vietnam and Thailand the country was destined to
rise to mediocrity. The center where Indian and Chinese cultures
met Motor finally arrived to take me home but adventure not yet over.
The road was the worst I have ever sene in my lif.e completely
broken and I places needed to use your imagination to see it. Very
much like the snufalufagus. Motor driver had to go so slowly it atkes
about two hours to two and half with a passenger for go down the
fountain a distance I had to estimate was less tan six or eight
kilometers. Haiuraising scary I wanted to get of and
wlak. Cursed that iw asnt in a car but when we met a car, a big suv
I realized we were muchg betrre off. While we were in danger of
coming off the bike, the SUV was in danger of going off the side.
The raod was just brely wide enough toa ccomidtae the slow crawling
helices and with the road washed out in places due to e a heavy
rainy season, there was often no room at all.
Finally after I had aged several years.,, we came around a bend and
suddenly I had the single most beautiful view of the ocean I had
ever seen. We were only a few hundred ,meters up now, the end was
near. And there below me was a peaceful valley which ran to the
ocean shades of blue and pale green blended the mist was still
rolling in which gave an illusion and not certain where the ocean
land and water and sky all ended it was one beautiful swath of color I
would be continuing on my journey to discover the Khmer. But the
quiet hours I had spent in the company for vanes little brother had
been informative or words to that effect.
For a brief moment I envied vane and the other rangers who would
get to remain in the camping there rotations through the pristine
unspoiled jungle. But then I remember e the leeches and I was glad
that i was on my way to hotel’’
Contact the author at:
antonio_graceffo@hotmail.com
You can reach Long Leng of Phnom Penh Tours at
sales@phnompenhtours.com
,
www.phnompenhtours.com
You can find all of Antonio’s books at
www.amazon.com
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|