Global Reflections

The Temples of Angkor

The outer wall of Angkor Wat

While we were in Siem Reap with our friends, we visited several ancient temples that were of great religious significance during the time of Angkor, a mighty empire whose heart was in present-day Cambodia. The empire flourished, and the temples were constructed, between the years 802 and 1432. I’m not going to go into much detail on the history, or even on the temples themselves, because I’d just as soon not sound too much like a tour book! But I would like to mention the temples we visited, tell you what most stood out to me, and share a few pictures. And for potential visitors who’d like to know: Admission is via ticket. The ticket allows you to enter any of the temples, and all of the temples require a ticket for entry. The tickets are available only in one place, so no stopping at the outlying temples on the way in before you have a ticket. Tickets are $20 for one day, $40 for three days, or $60 for seven days. The three-day passes can be used on consecutive or non-consecutive days over the course of one week and the seven-day passes can be used over the course of one month.

The encroaching jungle at Ta Prohm

Our friends hit Angkor Wat itself first, for a sunrise photo visit. Jeff, Alexa, and I—quite literally—were not up for the occasion. So our first Angkorian temple was Ta Prohm. Ta Prohm, unlike most of the other temples, has not been reclaimed from the jungle, at least not fully. Trees grow in its courtyards, massive roots grow along and over its walls, and tumbled piles of stone are everywhere. If you’ve ever seen the movie Tomb Raider, you’ve seen parts of Ta Prohm, although the jasmine bush was fake and obviously everything that happened once Angelina Jolie fell through the ground happened in a studio. The most striking thing about Ta Prohm was the atmosphere. In the main courtyards, it felt much like the other temples, but it was large enough (and deserted enough, first thing in the morning) that you could wander off and experience the place largely on your own. When on your own, it felt exotic, ancient, mysterious. My Lonely Planet tour book calls it “other-worldly,” and it’s right. Ta Prohm is one of those places I definitely would like to visit again, next time with my tour book in hand and without the need to hurry up and find a restroom when I was only halfway through my exploration! (For the record, all of the temples we visited had very nice restrooms nearby.)

Angkor Wat: the view once you pass the outer wall

That afternoon, we visited the crown jewel—Angkor Wat. Angkor Wat is surrounded by a moat (on which a floating village was built for Tomb Raider), with the tourist entry being via a wide sandstone causeway. It’s impressive from the road, when all you really see is its outer wall. Once you pass through that wall, though, it’s even more amazing. The path is bordered by naga balustrades and flanked by two libraries, then two pools. Finally you come to the retaining wall, and once you’re through that, you approach the temple itself. The temple complex is three stories high, with several towers, courtyards, and galleries, as well as additional library buildings. The size and grandeur of this complex were overwhelming. Much of the carvings are still very clear, which is impressive considering the time and weather conditions here.

An example of Banteay Srei's intricate bas-reliefs*

The following morning, we visited Banteay Srei, or the “Citadel of the Women.” Banteay Srei was a very small temple, but the lack of size didn’t detract from my experience of it at all. This temple has been restored, but more than that, it’s just … pretty. The carvings are intricate, and are likely to remain so, as they are roped off from visitors, unlike at the other temples. It was very crowded at this temple, so it isn't a great place to try for tourist-free photos, although it's possible with a great deal of patience and luck. Like Ta Prohm, at the exit, there was a band set up, with Cambodians playing traditional instruments. Their sign indicated that the musicians were victims of land mines, and they were playing music and requesting donations in lieu of begging. After listening to them for a while, we had the choice of two paths to get back to the entrance. We chose the one that everyone else was ignoring. It paid off, with some great views and no competition for the best photo-taking spots.


DY Proeung*

We spent the rest of that day shopping and relaxing, before leaving Siem Reap the next morning. However, the three Roluos temples were not very far out of our way, being located just off National Highway 6, so we stopped at all three of them on our way back to Phnom Penh. These three temples were the oldest we saw. In many ways, they were not as impressive as the others, but we wanted to visit because of their historical importance, as some of the first stone temples.

The temple at Preah Koh was not all that impressive in itself. It was small, and although it was interesting, it didn’t have a real stand-out quality like the others had had. However, across the street from Preah Koh was something definitely worth seeing: scale models of several Angkorian sites. When we went to see those, we realized that they were only the beginning. The site hosts a distinguished Khmer artisan, DY Proeung, one of the few masters who survived the Khmer Rouge regime. Proeung now trains younger artists in the ancient skills, and small sculptures and bas-reliefs are created and sold (at excellent prices!) at this site. I purchased a bas-relief of a group of apsara dancers and another of two elephants; Jeff purchased a model of Angkor Wat after speaking with DY Proeung and even taking a photo of the artist with the model.

Bakong

The second Roluos temple was Bakong. Like Angkor Wat, Bakong is surrounded by a moat and approached by causeway. There were several outbuildings—towers and sanctuaries. The temple itself was three levels, with the steps getting progressively steeper the higher you went. That was deliberate, as it was not supposed to be easy to approach the gods. We spent some time wandering on each level, catching our breath before heading up the next flight.

Laundry at Lolei

A short distance away was Lolei, the final temple that we visited. The reservoir that used to surround Lolei now is rice fields; our driver hadn’t been to Lolei but said that he’d heard it would be inadvisable to go during the rainy season because the fields would flood, but the road seems to have been improved (i.e., raised) since then. The temple ruins themselves were not particularly spectacular at Lolei. What struck me instead were the people. There were two children stationed at the top of the entry steps, asking for money. Unlike the children at the other temples, however, these children were accompanied by an adult, dressed in school uniforms, and asking for donations to the charity school in the village. In addition to these well-behaved and not at all pushy children, monks were more in evidence at Lolei than elsewhere. There were buildings just a few feet from the ruins that evidently serve as a monastery, with monks visible inside as well as on the grounds, and their laundry was hung under the buildings and on nearby trees and shrubs.

After our brief visit to Lolei, we settled into our van for the short leg of our trip, back to Kompong Thom for lunch, and then the long leg to Phnom Penh. We enjoyed a few last hours with our guests before we all turned in for the night. They left early the next morning. It was a very enjoyable visit, and I’m grateful to them for prompting us to make our first trip to Siem Reap.

*This picture was taken by my husband, Jeff.

The Cambodian Countryside

After our day of sightseeing in Phnom Penh, our friends and I loaded ourselves and a huge pile of stuff (most of it Alexa-related) into a taxi-van and made the 315 kilometer (~196 mile) drive to Siem Reap. We planned to leave the house around 9, but I think it was more like 9:30 by the time we’d finished breakfast, loaded everything, installed the car seat, changed Alexa’s diaper one last time, and finally hit the road. The trip usually takes five to six hours, from what I’ve been told; we made it in around six, including a stop for lunch in Kompong Thom.


The CPP is the political party in power; they had buildings in every hamlet

I’d been both dreading and looking forward to the drive. Dreading it because, although Alexa has been a good traveler up to this point, I keep expecting her to wake up one day and realize that toddlers aren’t supposed to be good travelers. I worried that this would be the trip in which she’d decide she hates the car seat (which would be entirely reasonable, since she hadn’t been in one since our arrival in October), hates being in a not-open-air vehicle (i.e., not a tuk tuk) for more than 15 minutes, and has to pee—or worse, poop—every 20 minutes. Luckily, Alexa retained her “good traveler” label through both this drive and the return drive just a few days later.

I’d been looking forward to this drive because it was my first opportunity to get outside of Phnom Penh and see the Cambodian countryside. I’ve had images in my mind reminiscent of my father’s old National Geographic collection; I’m sure you know the images—flooded rice paddies, men and women in loose clothing and conical hats, naked children chasing cows or dogs. Those are the images of rural Asia that westerners see in movies and magazines. Now, I did realize that I was unlikely to see much flooded anything, seeing as how we’re in the middle of the dry season, but I wasn’t sure what else to expect.

If I had to describe in one word what I saw, it would be this: green. Everywhere I looked, there was green grass, green leaves on the trees … so much green. So different from Egypt, so similar to the southern United States. But only the color reminded me of home. Everything else was very different. And very beautiful.

A Cambodian mile marker

I saw rice paddies, but they appeared mostly dry. If there was water there, it was a relatively thin layer. The paddies consisted of short green shoots that appeared more like grass from my speeding roadside perspective. There were some watering holes, small ponds in which the occasional worker stood up to ankles or knees while bending down to work. And of course, there was the Tonle Sap River, visible in many places along the way.

But even when the water was not in sight, it was in evidence. The road itself testified to the water's presence: the road virtually never was level with the surrounding land. It was raised several feet, presumably to prevent it from washing away during the rainy season, when the land floods. The houses also bore silent witness to the water—almost all of them were at or above the level of the road, built on stilts so that the one and only enclosed level was at the height of a second, or sometimes third, floor. In this dry season, the area under the houses was in use, sometimes as a dining room, sometimes as a workshop, and sometimes as a place to string clotheslines. But in almost every case, the structure itself was elevated, accessible by steps that often looked more like a ladder than stairs. Even the hay was piled onto platforms that were elevated several inches off the ground.

The houses themselves were pretty similar to each other. Occasionally we’d see one that I presume belonged to someone wealthy; those houses, minus the stilts, would have fit in well in a lower socioeconomic status neighborhood back home. But most of them would not. The pattern seemed to be single rooms, from what I could tell through the doors, of which at least half were open. The walls were made of materials ranging from 2 x 4 pieces of wood—often with holes where the boards didn’t quite meet—to metal sheeting to a couple that appeared to be thatch. A few stood off alone, but most were clustered into groups of three to five, more around the small towns. There was no evidence of electricity or indoor plumbing, but that wasn’t very surprising, as I’d already been told that most poor Cambodians are accustomed to doing their business around the corner or in the trees, and I know that even urban Cambodians don’t always have such “basics” as washing machines—my housekeeper laughed at me when I told her that I don’t purchase hand wash clothing because I won’t do it by hand; she does all her laundry by hand. Overall, it was clear that rural Cambodians must live much as they would have decades ago, and although it made for picturesque scenes for this western tourist, I understand why many young people go to the cities to earn extra money to send back to their families in the provinces.

We passed through a few small towns and one larger city, Kompong Thom. We stopped there for lunch. The driver took us to a restaurant on the main road, at the intersection of National Highway 6 and Prachea Thepatay (Democracy Street). I’m not sure of the name of the place, but it may have been attached to a hotel, and it was good. When we arrived, I rushed to the restroom—luckily I was carrying the diaper bag, which was fully equipped, because there was no toilet paper—and the others were ready to order when I came out. Jeff told me, “I want the sweet and sour pork, I haven’t picked anything for Alexa, I’m going to the restroom,” and disappeared. Approximately 30 seconds later, it was my turn to order, so I ordered sweet and sour pork for all three of us rather than hold everything up by perusing the menu. Our friends misunderstood my reasoning and promptly began teasing me for my lack of adventurous spirit. I shrugged and proceeded to enjoy my food anyway. I perused the menu a little after I’d ordered, just to see what was available. It was a mix of Khmer and Thai food, all of which sounded delicious.

Since I won't do another post for the drive back, let me also say that the American Restaurant in Kompong Thom, on Democracy Street not far from National Highway 6, also was very good. Our friends decided to stop there for lunch on the way back instead of the Khmer restaurant, I think because they thought we didn’t like the first one since we’d all eaten the same thing. The calzones were excellent, and Alexa seemed to like her chicken nuggets and fries, too. The bathroom, however … let’s just say it left much to be desired.

After lunch, we drove the remaining couple of hours to Siem Reap. We checked into the hotel and marveled at the staff’s celebration—we’d told them that it was the birthday of someone in our party and asked if there could be a cake and a few balloons waiting in the hotel, for which we’d be happy to pay. They informed us that they would provide those items for free, in accordance with their policy. We arrived at our villa to find a cake on the coffee table and balloons wrapped around a pillar in the kitchen, attached to the patio doors, in a large arch over the TV, and attached to the stair railing. Several staff members, one of them quite senior, were there to say “Happy birthday!” to our friend. It was way more than we expected, and the adults quickly tired of the plasticky balloon smell, although the highlight of the trip for Alexa was playing with the piles of balloons and having Daddy cut one off for her to take with her each and every time we got in the van.

Overall, the drive was very nice. The van was comfortable, the driver was friendly and safe, and we had a cooler full of cold drinks to enjoy on the way. The camera was close to hand, and although I didn’t get many pictures and even fewer good ones, it wasn’t because the scenery wasn’t photo-worthy; it’s just because we passed by it so quickly on the much-better-than-expected road.

Next up: Siem Reap. I’m not sure yet how I’ll divvy up the days into posts … I don’t think anyone wants to read a separate post for each of the six or so temples we saw. But in the next couple of posts at least, possibly more, I’ll tell you about our time in Siem Reap.

The Killing Fields of Choeung Ek

The Gates of Choeung Ek**

Our last sightseeing stop with our friends in Phnom Penh was the Choeung Ek Genocidal Center, informally known as the Killing Fields. This trip was difficult, not physically, but emotionally. I was ambivalent about bringing Alexa, and I considered staying at home with her because I wasn’t certain what she would see there. However, numerous online reviews and a friend who had been there personally with small children reassured me: the site would not be visually disturbing to a child young enough not to recognize human bones, and as long as we prevented Alexa from running around and playing, her presence would not disrupt others’ experience there or be viewed as disrespectful. Jeff and I agreed that we would take Alexa and hope she slept through the experience. If she didn’t sleep, she would be kept far enough away from the two locations displaying human remains that even an older child would not recognize what was being displayed. All information was imparted via headphones on the self-paced tour, so she would not hear anything that could be disturbing to her, either.

And there was plenty to hear that was very disturbing. On this blog, I will share some of that information, and a picture or two that contain human remains. If you do not wish to be exposed to that information or those images, please don’t read any more of this post. And if you happen to be under the age of 15, please don't read it unless your parent has read it and has told you that it's okay.

The Memorial Stupak**

We arrived at Choeung Ek early in the afternoon. I was struck immediately by the somber, quiet atmosphere that permeated the location. Signs admonished people not to speak loudly, and everyone complied. Most who spoke at all did so barely above a whisper. Everyone wore headphones and listened quietly as the narrator explained in their own language what happened in this peaceful—beautiful, even—setting.

The narrator told how the victims arrived from Tuol Sleng prison, how they had been tortured already and were brought to Choeung Ek specifically to die. Music was played over loudspeakers so that nearby citizens would not hear the screams; chemicals were used to mask the smell. Meticulous records were kept to ensure that no prisoners had escaped en route. Some victims were forced to sign the paperwork themselves, in effect signing their own death warrants. Entire families were killed, including the youngest infants, so that no one would grow up to seek revenge. Bullets were expensive, so they were not used at Choeung Ek, against such weakened and “easy” targets. Instead, machetes were used; sharp ridges from the branches of a local tree were used as knives; hoes and other innocuous tools were used as bludgeons.

The Killing Tree**

The most difficult part of the tour for me was a tree. This tree was located next to a mass grave in which the bodies of women and children had been found. When the site was discovered, the tree was stained red, and no one understood why until the bodies were examined. Apparently a favorite way to kill infants was to hold them by their legs and bash their heads into the trunk of this tree, now known as the Killing Tree. I had heard this information before, but standing there, seeing the tree in front of me and the mass grave beside it; knowing that some of the victims had stood where I stood; that mothers had held their babies right there where I was holding Alexa, waiting for their babies to be taken from them; that women right there had been forced to watch as their babies were murdered … the grief gave way to rage, and I started thinking of what I would do if someone ever tried to harm Alexa—and then it struck me. Those mothers, had they and their infants been alive on this day, would have felt the same as I felt. And had I been there, in their positions, with Alexa, on one of those horror-filled days, I would have felt the same as they did: desperate, hopeless, and unable to do anything to stop what was about to happen. Had I been born a generation ago, in a country across the world from my own, it could have been my baby who was murdered before my eyes, right before I was murdered, too. And had I been born in my own time but in a different location, I could have been the baby whose skull was shattered against that tree. My own housekeeper was a toddler and preschooler during those years—had someone acted on a grudge against her family, had her parents not remained under the radar during those years, it could have been her. This is not ancient history. This is yesterday.

Mass grave in the distance

I hugged Alexa closer to me and turned away from that terrible tree. The tears were welling up in my eyes as I thought about being helpless to save her. Luckily, the moment was interrupted by another tourist who, as so many Asians seem to do, took an undue interest in Alexa. (I’m not being racist here; in all of the sites we visited, the only tourists who felt free to take pictures of my daughter, approach her without invitation, speak to her while ignoring me, and even try to take her from me without ever acknowledging my existence, the only tourists who did these things were Asian. Apparently it’s a cultural thing, viewed as perfectly acceptable to them, and only we westerners are so individualistic as to take offense or view it as threatening when strangers approach our children.) This particular woman was concerned because Alexa’s face was red*. Although I could not understand her words, her gestures and tone of voice clearly indicated her disapproval, and this disapproval combined with her invasion of my personal space—something else that seems to be characteristic of many Asian tourists but not of the Cambodians with whom I’ve interacted—felt threatening to me, although I’m certain she didn’t mean it that way. But I was not in the mood for it at that moment. I hugged Alexa protectively against my chest and glared at the woman, extending the glare to another woman who stopped beside her and joined in. Soon, three or four women surrounded me on three sides, all too close for my comfort. I glared balefully at each of them in turn and turned away. They got the hint and left me alone, although they continued watching and following from a distance, pointing at Alexa and making concerned noises.

Skulls in the Memorial Stupak**

Later, as I sat on a bench with Alexa, waiting for Jeff to finish inside the memorial stupak (which displayed hundreds of bones, so there was no way I was taking Alexa in), the women walked by and smiled and waved at Alexa. This time I felt much more relaxed, and Alexa encouraged them by smiling and playing peek-a-boo around my arm. They also did not approach me, did not make unhappy-sounding noises in my direction, and did not gesture toward Alexa’s still-pink face. Therefore I did not retreat from them.

Memorial Stupak**

Instead, my friend came up and said to Alexa, “How is it that you can make people smile even here?” I hugged her close again, realizing the truth: Alexa’s presence made the horror of the place more real to me, but for everyone else who saw her, she was a ray of light in the darkness. Her beautiful innocence provides hope that tomorrow will not hold the horrors of yesterday.

*Alexa was not sunburned. I don’t recall if she was wearing a hat at the time, but I know she was in the shade, and whenever she’d been in the sun that day, she wore a hat. She, like her mother, gets very red in the face when she gets hot. We’d been outside in the heat most of the day and both of us were bright pink for most of the day and for quite a while after we came indoors.

**All but one of the pictures in this post were taken by a friend. I took a few pictures at Choeung Ek, but not many. These are much better and contain some images that I didn’t think to capture, couldn’t bring myself to memorialize in that moment, or didn’t even see, as we were keeping Alexa away from those sights. The pictures are shown here with permission.

Sightseeing in Phnom Penh

Throne Hall and Royal Waiting Room, Royal Palace, Phnom Penh, Cambodia

Some friends came to visit us not too long ago. We were thrilled to have them here, not only because we wanted to see them, but also because their visit spurred us to do some things we’d been wanting

Banquet Hall, Royal Palace, Phnom Penh

to do but just hadn’t done yet. First, they inspired us to finish up the house—get some stuff shuffled away to the attic, hang some pictures on the walls, arrange our collection of international “treasures” where they can be seen and appreciated. Second, they provided the impetus to get out and do some sightseeing here in Phnom Penh. Third, they motivated us to take a trip to Siem Reap—our first trip outside of Phnom Penh since our arrival in October. I’m going to do a short series of blog posts about their visit, starting with the one day we spent here in Phnom Penh.

A royal treasure

Our friends had definite ideas about where they wanted to go during their time here, and we were happy to oblige them. Because they wanted to focus on Siem Reap, they chose to limit the sites we visited here in Phnom Penh to what could be managed easily in one day. After looking through their guidebook, they provided me with a list and asked me to map out an itinerary that would work well in the city. That was easy enough to do, after seeing their list: We’d start at the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda (the site with the most restrictive hours), go up to Wat Phnom, stop by Central Market, and spend the rest of the day at the Killing Fields, stopping for lunch whenever we got hungry. Accordingly, we ate a breakfast of bagels and fruit, then stepped outside, where our regular tuk tuk driver was waiting for us.

On the Throne Hall

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from the Royal Palace. I go by it almost every time I travel to the embassy, but the wall around it is too high to see over. Some websites and guidebooks indicated that the only part of the palace that’s open to tourists is the Silver Pagoda compound; others said that parts of the palace grounds are open, too. We just assumed that our driver would know where to drop us off, and we’d see where we were allowed to go once we were inside. It was a good plan. Our driver dropped us at the tourist entrance and showed us where he’d be waiting when we were done (we’d come out a different gate), and we headed in. We entered through a small courtyard that contained a map, a ticket booth, and a pretty bridge. Once we had tickets in hand, we continued down a wide walkway lined with statues. At the end, we rounded a corner and I, at least, stopped in delight.

Chan Chaya Pavilion

The vista that opened up before us included large green areas and several beautiful buildings, all with distinctive, ornate Khmer rooflines. Only a small part was open to the public, with the rest declared off-limits by discreet signs, but that small part was wonderful. The statues and buildings begged to be captured in pictures, and there were clear views even of the off-limits areas for even more photographic opportunities. We saw the Throne Hall, the Royal Offices building, the Royal Waiting Room, and the Banquet Hall. We went inside the Royal Treasury. From the porch around the Throne Hall, I was able to get pictures of Chan Chaya Pavilion—it was in an off-limits area, although I would have loved to go walk around inside that beautiful structure!

The Reamker

After we finished in the Palace, we stepped through a wall into the Silver Pagoda compound. The first thing to catch my eye there was a mural painted on the inside of the wall around the compound. The mural depicts scenes from the Reamker, called Ramayana in India. I’m not familiar with the story, but the vibrant colors were gorgeous.

Shrine inside the Silver Pagoda compound

A few more steps brought us to the courtyard. The compound didn’t have the grassy areas of the Royal Palace compound; instead the whole area was paved, with huge potted plants, statues, spirit houses, and several small buildings dotting the landscape. Our erstwhile tour guide—a friend whose tour book rarely left her hand while we were out and about—took us around the area, saving the Silver Pagoda itself for last. We admired the library, walked by the equestrian statue of King Norodom, entered the pavilion housing a huge “footprint of Buddha,” and climbed the small artificial hill. We admired the scale model of Angkor Wat, anticipating seeing the real thing in just a few days, and finally entered the pagoda itself.


Silver Pagoda, with a scale model of Angkor Wat in front of it

I hate to admit it, but I was a little disappointed. Maybe I’m misremembering how totally awesome this pagoda is, as pictures were not allowed; after all, how could it not be the most spectacular thing I’ve ever seen when the staircase is Italian marble, it houses the Emerald Buddha (made of crystal), there’s a lifesize gold Buddha containing no fewer than 9584 diamonds, and it also contains a bronze Buddha, a silver Buddha, and figurines made of solid gold, not to mention the silver floor that gave it its name? But when I was standing inside the pagoda, looking around, my first thought was “This is cool. If I’d seen it before I saw Wat Phnom, I’d’ve been really impressed.” The place just felt cold and lifeless to me, dark in spite of the lamps, when compared with the vibrant colors that characterize Wat Phnom.

Inside Wat Phnom

Luckily, that’s where we headed next. We didn’t spend much time there, only an hour or so. Like the last time I was at Wat Phnom, I saw no monkeys and no elephants. Unlike the last time, however, a group of musicians were playing traditional music inside the wat. Although I appreciated the music—and I’ve read on blogs that for a small tip, the musicians even will give your child an impromptu music lesson—it caused me not to stay inside for very long. Alexa, who was getting sleepy, seemed to be bothered by it, as it was very loud. We spent a few minutes inside the wat and a few more roaming the grounds, and then we were ready to move on.

Our next stop was Central Market. I had been under the impression that our friends weren't interested in shopping, but that impression turned out to be wrong. We quickly found

Central Market

ourselves in front of the same booth where Jeff and I had purchased silk wall hangings, listening in as our friend haggled over some scarves. After several minutes and a couple of times when I thought it was a lost cause, we left the booth, scarves nestled in a bag carried by our friends. Shortly after that, we bought a couple of coconuts. As we watched, the vendor—wearing what looked like a police uniform—hacked off an end and stuck a straw down into the fruit before handing it over. After seeing some of the juice squirt violently out of the straw, I appreciated his care in pointing it away from us during this process! We all had sips from the coconut, but Alexa drank most of one all by herself. She’d been resisting our efforts to hydrate her all day, and apparently this, unlike water, hit the spot. A little more time found us in front of a vendor selling wood carvings, listening as our friend haggled over a carved mask. Her price seemed unreasonably low to me, but I knew she had it when she walked away and the vendor looked desperately at my friend’s husband, who just shrugged, and then grabbed the mask and headed into the warren of stalls after my friend. As I watched the haggling at Central Market and then later in Siem Reap, I realized that I could learn a lot about this art form from my friend!

Our purchases from Tabitha

Purchases completed (for now), we headed back to the tuk tuk and decided it was time for lunch. We visited Mama’s, a Thai place in Boeung Keng Kong, where we enjoyed a tasty and filling lunch. Afterward, we visited the Tabitha store, a non-government organization (NGO; otherwise known as a charity) that helps break the cycle of poverty by developing cottage industries in which women can earn money for their families. I’d never visited their store before, although it’s been on my list for a while, and I was amazed to see the variety of things that were available. We bought two adorable dresses for Alexa, two colorful balls made from cotton, and a stuffed gecko (maybe made from raw silk) that we’re going to experiment with to see if it, and more like it, can be used to decorate the walls in the playroom. Our friends also made some purchases, including an ingenious handbag made from recycled metal. I was highly impressed with everything that Tabitha had to offer, and we’ll definitely be making more purchases and more visits with any other friends who come to see us here.

After that, we stopped by our house to drop off all our purchases before heading back out to the Killing Fields. I will write about that visit, but I think it deserves a post of its own, especially as this post is getting long, so I’ll end this one here and save that one for another time.

Child Proof? Or Adult Proof?

An un-child-proofed kitchen: A toddler's dream, a parent's nightmare!

Living overseas, you sometimes experience events that are beyond-belief hilarious. The hilarity does not always translate well into the written word, as I fear may be the case this time, but I’ve found that it’s important to me to try. I love looking back and remembering these events, and having a written record helps. Back in December, one such event occurred. I chronicled it as it was happening on Facebook, and I intended to put it on the blog too, but I just didn’t get around to it.

I’m getting around to it now.

A little context: Alexa is a curious toddler who loves to get into everything. She especially enjoys exploring cabinets and drawers. This can be a problem, especially in the kitchen. So, like many parents, we wanted to put child locks on the lower cabinets and drawers. Some of the cabinets were convenient: they’re the mirror-image style, and you can just buy a simple U-lock to secure the pulls to each other. Voila, neither cabinet can open. But other cabinets are stand-alone, and the drawers of course would need something other than these easily installed and uninstalled U-locks. As I started looking into the other options, I quickly discovered from product reviews that the adhesive-mount ones were pulled off rather easily by toddlers determined to explore the nooks and crannies under the countertops. I wanted to use the screw-mounted version instead. The problem is that this is not our house. We asked GSO (not sure what the acronym stands for, but they’re the ones who handle everything to do with the house) for permission to install screw-mounted child safety locks. We were granted permission, but were told not to install them ourselves. In order to minimize the damage done to the cabinets, they wanted to send their own people to install them. No problem, I thought: I get my screw-mounted locks, and Jeff and I don’t even have to install them! What could be better? I ordered them off Amazon, and we dutifully put in the work order when they arrived. Some men from GSO showed up at my house the next day, 22 December 2011, around 9am. I showed them how the locks work and how they should be installed, then settled back to watch them work. (I’m required to have them escorted while they’re inside my house, and Alexa wanted to play with our housekeeper, so I sent the two of them off to the playroom while I supervised.) After almost an hour, I realized that one of those must-be-captured events was underway, so I pulled out my phone and posted a status on Facebook, then posted several updates as the hilarity continued. Here’s what I wrote (with edits for spelling and clarity):

9:50am

Two Cambodian men currently are chuckling and having a fine old time trying to figure out how to install the child locks on our bottom kitchen cabinets. I'm kind of glad that GSO told us they had to do the install to avoid damaging the cabinets--now if there are problems, it's on them not us!

9:57am

So far we have one drawer completely emptied, and one cabinet that's had a partial install, then an uninstall when he realized he'd put it too low on the door and it wouldn’t catch the hook up top. I think this may take a while. We only have 20 drawers and 6 cabinets under the counters, after all!

9:58am

Now we have both of them working on one drawer, which has been removed from its slot completely.

10:00am

Now the drawer won't open AT ALL because they didn't leave room for it to slide out enough to disengage the lock. I'm trying hard not to laugh too much!

10:03am

And hoping they can open it to rescue my stuff and fix it!

10:06am

Success! One drawer seems to be done. Maybe now that they've gotten the hang of it, the rest will go more easily. [They ended up using a knife to open it—they slid it down into the tiny opening they’d left room for and used it to push the lock down enough to disengage it.]

10:27am

A friend commented: You should be videoing this...sounds like a youtuber!!!!

10:30am

I wanted to take pictures but decided that would be rude ... especially since I already was laughing at/with them at the time!

10:31am

Now a third man has joined them. Until now he was doing something with the generator outside.

11:37am

Two hours later, all done. I really am glad we had to let them do it instead of doing it ourselves

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The men obviously did complete the work. For most of the time, there were just the two of them working. One did most of the drawers. He completely emptied each drawer, removed it from its place, installed the two pieces of the lock, and then reinserted the drawer. Unfortunately I don’t recall how he handled the ones in the corners, which cannot be pulled out completely because they catch on the pull of their neighbor-around-the-corner. The other focused on the cabinets, but spent several moments watching the first guy when he ran out of cabinets and had to figure out drawers.

I really wish I had video … then you’d be laughing with me.