we were content to sit by the water-filled moat, sip Cambodian wine, nibble on frogs' legs

Jungle gem
By Susan C. Hegger
ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
Sunday, Apr. 01 2007

SIEM REAP, CAMBODIA - The traffic at the South Gate was hectic.
Pedestrians
clogged the narrow bridge as motor scooters veered in and out, coming
close but
always just missing a startled tourist or two. Cabs, buses and
minivans
maneuvered through the gawkers, most with awestruck looks on their
faces and
cameras slung around their necks. But whether on foot or on wheels,
everyone
moved to the side to let the lumbering elephant caravans through.

It was a typical morning at Angkor Wat, the ancient capital of the
Khmer kings
in modern-day Cambodia and reportedly the largest religious monument
in the
world.

From one glance at the South Gate, we knew we were entering someplace
very
special and important. Leading to the portal, on both sides of the
road, was a
line of stone figures, each one clasping the body of the Naga, a long
serpent,
holding it in their grasp for eternity. The gate itself was imposing
and
ornate, with four faces of the Buddha smiling down on all those who
entered. As
we passed through the gate, monkeys scampered among the stones.

The South Gate is a majestic sight, one that prompts a sudden gasp and
then a
whispered "ohmigod" when first seen. Yet even so, it couldn't quite
prepare us
for how vast and monumental Angkor Archeological Park is.

One very full day

For starters, it's far too big to be explored on foot, which explains
all of
the bicycles, cabs, motorbikes and even the elephants on the roads. It
makes
more sense to ride to each of the major complexes - and given the
heat, it's
definitely more pleasant. Comprising multiple structures, each of the
major
complexes is also much more expansive than I had imagined. The size
and scope
of the park underscored what an amazing place this must have been at
its peak
from the 9th to the 13th centuries. (While, in retrospect, two days
would have
been better, we did see in one very full day, without feeling rushed,
the major
sights of the South Gate, Bayon, Central Angkor Thom and Angkor Wat,
which the
park is often called.)

Once through the gate, our guide Sarin Soeum, more familiarly known as
Kea,
took us to what he later called his favorite spot - the temple of
Bayon in
what's called Central Angkor Thom. Actually, the word "temple" may be
somewhat
misleading; Bayon is an intricate complex of terraces, towers and
galleries in
which you could spend hours exploring, beginning with the bas reliefs
depicting
historical scenes on the exterior walls.

Bayon is his favorite, Kea said, because of all the stone images of a
serene
Buddha. Indeed, his face adorns all four sides of many of the towers,
a nod to
the four cardinal directions. (Some suggest that these Buddhas may
resemble
King Jayavarman VII, who built Bayon.) Indeed, from one particular
vantage
point, where we crammed into a narrow corner, we could photograph
three radiant
Buddhas in a row. But no matter where we looked, the stone faces were
everywhere.

Just as remarkable was the fact that Bayon, as well as all the temples
in this
park, is still a living shrine to Buddha. Time and again, we'd enter
an alcove
or dark tower only to discover visitors praying while a monk tended a
colorful
altar crowded with burning candles, incense and other offerings to a
saffron-robed Buddha.

Picture with roots

If Bayon was Kea's favorite, I'd have to say that Ta Prohm, a
sprawling,
one-level monastery-temple complex, was mine. Where Bayon is out in
the open,
Ta Prohm is like a hidden and mysterious jewel. We reached it only
after a
short walk through the jungle. As we approached, it appeared sheltered
by the
surrounding jungle. We noticed hints of the red paint that once
covered all the
buildings.

What makes Ta Prohm magical, though, is the way the jungle has claimed
it. The
curling, curving roots of fig and silk-cotton trees seem to devour the
walls;
trees seem to sprout from some of the towers. It's a literally
dazzling sight:
nature and human creation fused, entwined in a symbiotic embrace.
(Maybe that's
why people - and I confess I was one of them - lined up at various
choice spots
for a picture of themselves framed by these enormous roots.)

The crown jewel of the park is, of course, the spectacular temple
complex of
Angkor Wat, which covers a square kilometer. Unfortunately, we came up
to the
temple from behind. That gave us a terrific sense of the immense size
of the
complex, but it robbed us of that first indelible, breath-taking
impression.
You know the one from countless photographs: Angkor Wat with its
beehive-like
towers at the end of a causeway. The million-dollar view finds the
reflection
of the temple shimmering in the reflecting pool.

We explored the wat or temple right after lunch, in the heat of the
day but
before the crowds for sunset swarmed the site. While the temple was
originally
built in the 12th century by King Suryavarman II in honor of the Hindu
god
Vishnu, it now houses dozens of Buddhas, said our guide Kea.

I could barely absorb it all: the walls of carvings, ranging from
flowers to
dancing celestial beings; the array of Buddhas, including a beautiful
lying
Buddha; the one shrine to Vishnu, with his many graceful arms; the
elaborate
architecture.

Heights and mosquitoes

I even conquered my fear of heights, temporarily at least, to climb
the
exceptionally steep, narrow steps to the temple's highest spot. I
grabbed hold
of the handrail, focused only on the step ahead and ascended. At the
top, I
looked out and gasped: How am I going to get down? I couldn't even see
the
steps I had so gingerly trod.

I postponed my panic to wander around. In one corner by a shrine to
Buddha sat
a group of five elderly Cambodians and a monk. They were burning
incense,
laughing and taking turns telling fortunes. It was a lovely scene,
another
reminder of the reverence in which this place is still held. Then it
hit me:
These people walked up those steps, and they're going to walk down.
Both my
triumph, and fear, were deflated.

That evening, the sky was so overcast that there wasn't a sunset to
bathe
Angkor Wat in a reddish glow. But we were content to sit by the water-
filled
moat, sip Cambodian wine, nibble on frogs' legs and watch the temple
fade into
darkness - at least until the mosquitoes took over.

shegger@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx | 314-340-8348

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