Temples, Temples

Angkor Wat is only the largest and most recognizable of an enormous temple complex scattered around the town of Siem Reap, where I am now. The temples date from as far back as the 9th century, when they were built by rulers of the mighty Angkor empire, whose sovereignty centered in Cambodia but covered most of modern Thailand, Vietnam, Laos, Burma, and other parts of Southeast Asia.

The Angkor empire was originally Hindu, and thus many of the temples are decorated with statues of Hindu gods or bas-reliefs of famous battle scenes from sacred Hindu texts. Over the centuries, the official religion of the empire shifted back and forth from Hindu to Bhuddist (at present the country is officially Theravadin Bhuddist.)

The temples thus also contain several Bhudda statues in addition to the Hindu relics. But above all, they remind us of an empire with tremendous power and resources, with the ability to mobilize huge numbers of slaves and other workers to build these massive temples.

Angkor Wat in particular is three levels with five towers looming over the landscape. You walk down a long stone bridge to cross a moat and enter through a gate in a long stone wall before getting to the actual temple itself.

Like all the temples, Angkor Wat shows its age. Centuries of the moist tropical climate have worn down the stones and turned them brown, while storms and thieves have taken their toll on many of the sculptures.

Yet you still cannot help but be awed by the magnificent scale of the buildings. Inside, it is clear that the numerous corridors were intended for little more than religious worship and the grey stone is only broken up by the bright orange sashes adorning many of the Bhudda statues where Khmer still come in respect.

We spent several hours there, first in the hot sun, then in the drenching rain that comes at least once per day here. Later we headed back to the hotel to rest briefly before going to dinner at the Dead Fish Cafe, a hilarious restaurant catering to tourists who appreciate its combination of cheeky decorations and American 80s music but never fail to visit the live alligator pit in the back.

That night I passed out early and woke up at some ridiculous hour of the morning. I didn't bother checking my watch but flipped on the TV and found that I could watch the Yankees-Giants game live and in English -- it was Sunday morning here, but Saturday afternoon in San Francisco. Giants won, 6-5, in 13 innings.

That morning I enjoyed the hotel breakfast and we gathered again for more temple viewing. That day's tour involved complexes that were significantly smaller, but no less impressive, than Angkor Wat. On the itinerary was Ta Prohm, the temple famous for being used in scenes from both Tomb Raider and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

The real doom for that temple, though, were the tall trees literally growing on the walls and, in many cases, pulling them down. A recent US-funded project had helped stabilize much of Ta Prohm, but nature seemed adamant about returning the stones from whence they came.

Inside one of the temples, Sophanit had us sit in front of a fortune teller who seemed to base his divination on the proportions of your right arm. He told Lulu she was in her first of five years of good luck and that she would be a millionaire.

I, apparently, blew all of this out of the water. In rapid-fire Khmer, the fortune teller laughed to Sophanit that I simply had too much good luck. He measured the distance from a mole on my wrist to my fingertips, then pointed his stick at my crotch, indicating something about my desirability to women. Jeez, dude, could you be a little more discreet?

He also measured out pieces of a stick using my fingertips and ascertained that I would be a billionaire. Well, in riel (4000 to 1 exchange rate), I already am.

Back in town, we showered up for what was to be a real treat -- a chance to attend a Cambodian wedding. Lulu and I were both extremely apprehensive about the notion of crashing a wedding (Owen Wilson, eat your heart out), but Sophanit insisted that the groom was her friend and that it would be no problem.

So it was that, dressed in my World Tour finest (goofy orange collared North Face shirt, convertible pants, and Tevas) I walked with Lulu and Sophanit (who were dressed quite nicely, I should add) and Sophanit's MBA classmates into the open-air wedding pavilion.

None of the family members or wedding party who greeted us on the way in looked at us strangely, though. The bride handed us all nicely wrapped packs of gum (seriously) and we sat down at a table stocked with drinks.

There did not seem to be any formal proceedings to the reception. We drank (one of Sophanit's friends served liberal portions from a bottle of Johnnie Walker) and ate from a variety of tasty dishes that were laid in front of us at random times. Rather than sticking around waiting for it to end, we put money in envelopes as gifts, took a picture with the bride and groom (who the hell is that white guy?) and left.

The sunlight in the tropics threw me off -- it was pitch black but not yet 7:30. Back at the hotel, though, I passed out again and woke up way too early.