Feel with camera

Greetings,

How many tourists see only through their camera? Millions. They feel the experience of 8th century artistic splendor with only their cameras, these cold impersonal little tools. Their entire experience is defined by their camera. It's not about knowing, understanding the people, culture, food, art, music, and language. It's about feeling with a camera.

They've learned through hard fast lessons to trust the machine. It is their weapon against mediocrity and boredom and shallow emptiness. They don't comprehend the intricacies of the machine. They believe it can and will save them. The machine controls them. They gratefully accept this reality.

They press optical machines against their faces, piercing retinas, flickering lids. Point and shoot. They lower the device and stare with hard lost eyes at the image, their memory. They judge it. Evaluate. DELETE!

Shoot again. Point. Shoot. Delete. Repeat. A snapshot. Snap a shot. Preserve this moment forever. Quick! They must go. They must move to the next great big thing. They are in a hurry. The tuk-tuk driver is impatient. He wants more money for his time. He waited when they slept. He waited when they stuffed eggs, watermelon and soft bread into tired faces. They ate like animals. They point and shoot. They delete.

Hurry! They have no time to see with their obscurity. This loss, this sense of amnesia envelops them. It is a dark cloud of forgetting. They remember to forget. 

They are on a Homeric quest of infinite proportions and infinite magnitude. 

Their memory card is full. They attach electrodes to a cerebral cortex and press, ever so lightly, the Down Loadswitch. Memories of Apsara dancers, elephants, monkeys, celestial deities flicker and play on a screen behind their eyes.

Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of compassion smiles.

Metta. 

Interior, Banteay Srei, 9th C. 

Banteay Srei, Kbal Spean & Roluos Group

Banteay Srei

Greetings,

Angkor Wat is huge. It is the largest spiritual building on Earth. It is a peaceful mixture of Hinduism and Buddhism. This makes it unique among other reasons. It dates from the 9th-13th Century.

Most tourists dash in, around and through spending four days of their very short existence. They get to Angkor Wat to see the sunrise along with hoards. It's a zoo. They visit the high points: Angkor Wat, Angkor Thom, the interior of Bayon and, depending on their time and planning, other temples and areas of interest. 

A day pass runs $20, 3-day pass, $40 and a seven-day pass $60. The week long pass allows visitors the luxury of time (a great wealth) to enjoy the diversity of Angkor during a month. Seven visits in 30 days. I selected this option after visiting The National Museum and various galleries around town to learn about Angkor.

I wanted to go far away. For $25 I hired Pat, a tuk-tuk driver with three kids to feed and we left before dawn. A tuk-tuk is a motorized bike pulling a simple carriage. The air was chilly and refreshing. We reached the main entrance. It resembled a well designed airport immigration section with windows and attendants for the 1-3-7 day tickets. I paid for seven, they took my picture and a girl punched my ticket. Buy a ticket and take the ride. The meter began running.

It ran through deep forests, along empty roads, past forgotten shadows and figures of villagers stoking small red fires for cooking and heat beneath or beside their bamboo or wooden stilt homes. It skirted a long deep reflecting pool at Sras Srang. We stopped for coffee. A brilliant orange ball of flaming gas rose over expansive fields. 

We headed for Banteay Srei, 37 km from town. Objective: get there for early light before multiple buses of tourists.

As I'd witnessed earlier at The Silk Worm Farm, according to my guide there, "The Chinese, Japanese and Korean groups are the worst. They totally destroy the ambiance." Obnoxious Japanese camera idiots posed with a woman and her small boy sitting on the floor chopping kindling. Tourists hid behind dyed silks for funny pictures. They were rude and inconsiderate.

In brief: Srei was built in 987 AD and never a royal temple. Small and intimate, rumored to have been built by women with their fine hands. The carvings of pink sandstone cover much of the temple and the reliefs are deep and beautiful, the most incredible at Angkor. Discovered by the French in 1914, covered by forest and earth.

After Seri we continued north to Kbal Spean. We climbed through forests for 1.5km. This is the source of waters for Angkor and the Siem Reap river. Water flows over 100m of carved sacred lingas and Hindu deities; Vishnu, Shiva and Brahma. The Sanskrit name is Sahasralinga, or "river of a thousand lingas."

Kbal Spean

In the afternoon we headed south and then east of Siem Reap to the Roluos Group, a series of three temples, Bakong, Preah Ko and Lolei, dating from the 8-9th century. Roluos is the pre-Angkor original site. 

Bakong was consecrated in 881AD. The layout follows Mount Meru, five ascending levels, moats, and ten surrounding temples. It was reconstructed from 1936-1942 under the direction of Maurice Glaize, the conservator of Angkor.

Preah Ko, or Paramesvara, "The Supreme God," or Shiva was built in 880 AD. It contains a steele in Sanskrit with an inscription about war, fearsome in battle, flashing swords, and invincibility; a eulogy to Indravarman I.

Lolei, 893 AD. Four brick buildings in poor condition sit on an island above a former reservoir. The lintels, door jambs and inscriptions explaining the construction and divisions of tasks are well preserved.

Srei, Spean and Roluos galleries. Visually articulate.

Metta. 

Antipodeans

Greetings,

On a fine sunny yesterday Sunday a team of 15 brilliant volunteer Australian teachers from Antipodeans Abroad traveled 50 km into the countryside to visit Kranlanh. This is Kunn's village and the site of My Grandfather's House, being transformed into a small school for local children since last September. 

The teachers' role for two weeks is teacher training with local Khmer teachers in Siem Reap. Thirteen volunteer nurses are busy conducting heath checks and providing medical assistance in local villages.

The teachers stopped in a nearby village and transferred to ox carts. They rolled through villages and into massive open dry and dusty Cambodian fields. Horizons extended forever. Everyone swallowed billowing delicious dust. They were in the center of a huge open plain. Under a blazing sun and turquoise canvas painted with small white clouds they rocked, they rolled, passing villagers harvesting straw for feed. Boys fished in small lotus lakes.

They forded streams as hooves labored, pulling huge mud slicked spoked wheels grinding out a hollow form. They reached the edge of the village and went to the school where they met 50 happy excited children. Teams were formed to collect trash and debris, plastic leftovers, easily discarded. Rubbish, trash and garbage is a real health issue. Everywhere. Rats, vermin and lice prosper. People get sick. 

Anna, a nurse, conducted simple first aid training for some mothers. How to treat open wounds with salt water and protect the wound with a bandage.

After lunch the teachers demonstrated and taught the children dental hygiene; they distributed brushes and paste for the kids to practice - OPEN, brush the top, sides, back, front, rinse and spit. Then they demonstrated and conducted hand washing steps so the kids would learn the importance of simple daily hygiene. They distributed soap, smiles and love.

They gifted kids cloth satchels, pencils and small koala bears. Farewell!

Metta.

Cremation

Greetings,

The procession of 200 people led by six monks in orange robes followed the rolling wagon carrying the wooden casket inside afternoon's blazing heat along Airport Road. After two kilometers we entered the monastery. A bus of school kids and nuns arrived. 

The casket was carried up the stairs and placed on a metal platform. Her husband led a procession of monks and family members around the tall tapered white and blue building carrying her picture and yellow flowers. They stepped back to allow the team of workers access. They opened the casket so family members could leave something personal inside. 

On a nearby pavilion monks and friends prayed. A man read a final tribute about the woman's life. The family finished expressing their love and men put small logs into the casket. They closed it, rolled it inside and piled more wood around it. They lit the fire and closed the metal door.

People looked up at the top of the tower to four Buddha faces and exhaust pipes. A wisp of black smoke escaped into the clear blue sky, followed by heavier gray and white, now billowing.

People sat in groups talking, drinking water. Everything burned for 2-3 hours. The bones were collected and placed in a family urn and returned to her room. They will be used to create a human figure on banana leaves. In 100 days they will be removed and returned to a family stupa at the monastery.

Metta.

Birth and death

Greetings,

One birth. One death. This is the reality here where it all happens up close and personal. Community.

Jasmine gave birth to a baby boy around 12:30 a.m. 3.9 kilos. It's her and Kunn's third child. I am on the balcony around 6 a.m. and hear him crying. Tears and lungs, breath, release. He's amazing and small. Sleeping after his nine-month water world journey. Every day is a new birth day. 

I walk down the dusty path, across the so-called "Highway of Death" to Jasmine Lodge.

People are gathering to celebrate the passing of Jasmine's grandmother. She was healthy and happy. Sheslipped away during the night after 84 years.

Friends and relatives gather under a pavilion to pay their respects. Some visit the Buddhist monk making a monetary gift, hands in prayer. He ties a small red piece of yarn around their wrist.

The ceremony will last three days. Women teams prepare food, chop vegetables and fruit - cook and simmer huge vats of rice, soup, fish, and meats using logs. Smoke curls through bamboo meeting music and the melodic chants of monks in song.

Tomorrow will be a procession to the monastery for cremation.

Metta.