Last week was Pchum Ben, one of the longer Cambodian public holidays and a religious festival which I still don’t really understand, except that it involves lots of parties at the pagodas. I went to the northwest with Dave and two of his colleagues, Phinet and Sharon, to visit Preah Vihear temple on the Thai border.
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| The four of us in Preah Vihear province |
Preah Vihear is one of the most important of the Angkorian temples and probably very beautiful, although it was so foggy we couldn’t see it. Perhaps more significantly, though, it’s been the source of conflict between the Thais and Cambodians for decades because, although it was officially recognised as Cambodian by the UN in 1962, the only access was from the Thai side, leaving them effectively in control. In 1979 it was the scene of “the worst forced repatriation in UN history”, as Thailand marched thousands of Cambodian refugees fleeing from the starvation caused by the Khmer Rouge back over the border. And more recently, the ownership issue resurfaced when UNESCO awarded the site world heritage status and Cambodia built a tarmac road; this, coupled with Thai political instability and a flare-up of nationalism in both countries, led to fighting earlier this year, with several soldiers killed. There has been no fighting since February though, and the temple has been reopened to tourists.
Before we got there we had a night in Siem Reap followed by a drive up to Anlong Veng, a town close to the Thai border and the last Khmer Rouge stronghold. It was controlled by them right up until 1998 and is the resting place of many of its leaders, including Pol Pot and Ta Mok. It wasn’t an unpleasant town and people were friendly enough, but I couldn’t help wondering what kind of things they’d got up to, and what on earth they’d been thinking for so long. After lunch we visited Ta Mok’s house, a weird place because, alongside the cages where Khmer Rouge prisoners were kept, there were groups of people having picnics. Then we drove almost to the Thai border to see the cremation site of Pol Pot – he died mysteriously and was cremated the same day. It was raining and felt appropriately grim, a large mound of grey earth covered by a simple tin roof.
It was a nice drive to Sra Em, a town about 25km from the temple where we stayed the night, went to a Pchum Ben party at the pagoda, and left around 6.30 for the temple.
The area was heavily militarised, with lots of army buildings including one with about eight tanks, and when we reached the temple after a very steep drive, there were over a thousand soldiers stationed there. I wasn’t expecting this at all but, although the fighting is over, neither side is withdrawing its troops until the other side does. A group of soldiers offered to take us round and handed us a gun, saying we could hold it. Being a bit clumsy and wary of accidentally restarting a war, we declined. I did think though that there can’t be many national armies who, on the frontline of a warzone, would offer their guns to passing tourists. Of course, Dave and I weren’t just tourists but had military experience: at the age of 15 I did four days work experience at Altcar army training camp, and Dave once did an army fun day at school. We wondered whether to ask if they wanted us to get them some tips.
The soldiers took us round the whole site, showing us bunkers dug into the temple walls, the sandbags marking the border, the Thai military camps on the other side, and some of the damage done to the temple by Thai shooting.
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| The sandbag wall is the official border |
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| Bunkers dug into the temple walls |
I’m not generally inclined to like soldiers very much, but I had lots of admiration for the ones we met. They were warm and friendly, had been there a long time without being able to see their families, and were sincere in their commitment to their country without being excessively nationalistic – they said that they no longer had a problem with Thailand since the recent change of government. And when Dave (who says he gets uncomfortable with lulls in the conversation and says wildly inappropriate things) asked if they found it difficult being so far from a karaoke bar – synonymous in Cambodia with casual prostitution – they didn’t get offended and just said that their work was more important. They didn’t even get angry when Dave when one step further and asked if they liked Thai food.
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| Dave and Phinet |
Three of them took us round and stayed with us the whole time, so afterwards we bought them lunch to say thank you. Dave later told me he’d come really close to asking the man serving us if they had Thai Green Curry; luckily he managed not to, and we left them on good terms. They’d been really good to us, although presumably really bored as they’d followed us around for three hours.
We drove in the rain back through Sra Em towards Tbaeng Meanchey, the capital of Preah Vihear province, which had nothing much there apart from a great bakery with the best bread I’ve had in Cambodia. We left the next morning and, after visiting a few pagodas on the way, we went back to Kampong Thom, where Dave lives. Phinet invited us for a Pchum Ben party at his cousin’s house which was fun, and the following day I left for Phnom Penh. Overall it was a great week and really fun to do some travelling again. And I’m glad that, the day after Dave’s leaving party, he decided to accept a three-month placement in Phnom Penh, so he won’t be leaving after all.
