Showing early symptoms of temple overdose, we climbed onto the moped a bit later on our third day and drove through the Angkor area and turned towards the North along a dirt road. Within five minutes we were in rural Cambodia. Some of the famed "Killing Fields" of the Khmer Rouge were nearby but unmarked and rarely visited by tourists unlike the ones outside Phnom Penh. We passed by children playing near their mud huts and the dry rice paddies of the countryside. We suspected that many of the large concave holes were the result of massive aerial bombing in the 1970’s. The area on each side of the road was heavily land mined in the 80’s and 90’s by the Khmer Rouge and guidebooks and maps sternly warned of their presence. Intense activity by the Khmer Rouge as recently as 1997 has kept visitors away from Banteay Srei.

If it wasn’t the dust it was mud in places that slowed us down. But after an hour and a half we arrived at Banteay Srei. We were initially disappointed by the size of the temple but once we approached the ruins we understood the draw. The carvings on this temple we very well preserved and although it’s remote location had made it a big target for art thieves who hacked off some of the heads, most of the carvings were intact. All the tourists kept within a small boundary for fear of landmines and we allowed the carvings to tell their story and take us to another land of mythical beings.

A mass of figures - man and animal - was frozen in eternity on the pink sandstone walls of Banteay Srei. Indra, god of the sky, riding his three-headed elephant Airavata and creating rain to put out a forest fire; Kubera, god of wealth and guardian of the north; Rahu in the humongous task of swallowing an elephant; Devi with her enigmatic smile - the tale goes on as it has for centuries. The carvings are in such good shape because sandstone is hard, preserving the sharpness of the sculptures. The stories of the walls are a bit elusive as we didn’t spend much time studying our Hindu mythology and religion prior to our arrival, but we learned a lot during our visit.

We noticed a lot of the people here were missing limbs and eyes and it was a bit disturbing at first. We were approached often for handouts but we stuck to our policy of only giving money to people without legs or feet. We met a boy with a badly burned face, blind and with no legs. We gave generously. He seemed to have a particularly rough time with everyday life. We added burns and blindness to our list of donation criteria. We were giving away between $10 and $12 a day to anybody we saw that met the criteria. Actually making criteria like this may sound crass but there were just too many people to give to and yet we had to find a way to give something.

These poor people have been shit upon for so many years and yet they are so damn friendly, sincerely friendly, not just looking for handouts. The kids are so curious and funny. We met two kids near a temple food stall while getting some lunch and they wanted pens. After discovering we had no pens they asked for our soup water after we were done eating. Ugh! It broke our hearts. We stopped eating immediately and gave them our soup which they poured into plastic bags. Lisa gave them her emergency snack cookies and these kids were so happy. They ran off dancing with big white teeth smiling through their dirt covered tanned faces.

Having come this far we decided to go the extra distance and travel another 19 km to Kbal Spien, the river of a thousand lingas. This sacred river is named after the lingas (phallic symbols) carved into the riverbed. The carvings were not discovered until 1968 by a French archeologist. Again the Khmer Rouge was very active in this area and it was closed until 2000 when returning archeologists discovered that looters had been at work, hacking off the heads of reliefs. The Khmer Rouge was very active in selling artifacts to fund its war efforts and ex-Khmer Rouge fighters turned bandits are suspected of continuing the practice today. Stories of the the incredibly elaborate art heists in and around Angkor area are as entertaining as the ruins themselves.

As we drove towards the mountains we saw a lot of rural life in Cambodia. While waiting our turn to cross a half collapsed bridge we helped a guy who had lost control of his motorcycle cart and spilled his huge cargo of charcoal all over the good side of the bridge. A convoy of UNICEF Land Cruisers came from the opposite direction and we all pitched in to help this guy get his load of charcoal over the bridge.

When we arrived at the base of the mountain we parked our stunt cycle and began the hike along a narrow jungle trail for forty-five minutes in the sweltering heat, being extra careful not to stray from the trail. The jungle here was beautiful with tall hardwood trees and lots of vines but the searing heat got under the foliage of the forest and we were overheating. We arrived at the river at the hottest time of the day, 2:00 PM, and thoughts of cooling off in the river were quickly dashed by the “stuff” in what little water was flowing in the river. The journey had been way more exciting than the destination and we hid in the shade as we plotted our return to Siem Reap.

The drive back seemed to go quicker as we raced from the black thunderclouds forming over the mountains.

On our last day in Siem Reap we visited a school for young artisans learning to make a living from carving stone and wood. Some of the carvings were masterpieces but they were priced much higher then the local craft stores. We were told that the money from the sale of the items goes to the training of students. The students are selected from surrounding villages and are considered very fortunate to have the opportunity of this program. Their diligence and concentration during our visit proved they did not take the opportunity for granted. Once they complete about a year of training they can find work in one of the many craft shops in town.

That night we visited the old quarter of Siem Reap and felt a buzz around town. The center of town was a gathering spot for all the non-government aid organization (NGO) workers seeking a slice of civilization. White LandCruisers lined the streets. NGO’s from the UK, France, Germany, Belgium, Sweden, Thailand, Australia, Japan, Singapore, and of course the UN were represented but the only sign of any US effort to clean up the mess here were the bags of rice with USAID we saw in unmarked pickup trucks heading out to the countryside. If American organizations are here they keep a low profile and with good cause for all the shameful things the American military did to these people.

We slipped out of town early the next morning bound for the airport, wishing we had more time to let our feet recover from climbing all over the ruins like monkeys. But we were excited to seek out some civilization in Saigon, Vietnam.

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