I am writing this from the floor of Terminal 7 at John F. Kennedy airport in New York City.  Patrick and I are camped out at the one power outlet we could find in the ticketing area.  After a red-eye flight from SFO to JFK, we located a Starbucks, which produced the usual airport quality imitations of our favorite beverage (me: Soy Chai; Patrick: Starbuck’s Double Shot).  Libations acquired and rapidly consumed, we boarded the AirTrain and headed over to the terminal.  When we arrived, we found that the Icelandair desk doesn’t open until 11:30.  In addition, our traveling companion had not yet arrived, so we elected to camp-out here in the lobby.

Many people have asked us, “Why Iceland?”  The official story is that Patrick was watching a travel channel about great places to visit, and Iceland was one of the them.  Evidently, Iceland has some very cool retreat and vacation centers, so it was our intention to attend one.  However, we later discovered that no retreats were running at the time.  So, although we will not be able to enjoy the benefits of healing and pampering spa treatments and yoga classes, we will still be able to scope out the property.  In addition, the recent purchase of my extra fabulous camcorder means that I will be shooting baffoo yoga footage over there in the natural beauty of the northernmost European nation.

The more that I learn about this wonderful island nation, the more intrigued I become.  This will be my first European adventure, and also the first place that I will visit where, apparently, most of the population believes in, or knows someone who believes in, elves and gnomes.  That’s a whole other discussion, some of which you can watch here.  The other things is that they are inveterate drinkers and have pretty excellent attitude towards life overall (it seems).  Consequently, I have seriously joked about moving there to open up a yoga studio and rehab center.  It’s like the Betty Ford Clinic with Sun Salutes.  Picture that!

Expect plenty of beautiful pictures and video from this adventure.  Good-bye for now or, as they say in Iceland, bless!

In the darkness of my own thoughts,

Faith sparked into a flame,

And this flame grew into a statement,

“You and I are One.”

And though the darkness stayed,

Inside a corner of my soul

The promise that waits patiently

For my readiness to live in love

Remained.

(Copyright © 2009 Stuart Rice)

The definition of education is “the process of receiving or giving systematic instruction” and an education is “giving moral, intellectual, or social instruction.”  Both derive from the Latin educare, which means “lead out.”  Regardless of the type of education we either receive or propose to provide to others, leadership is at the heart of the education.  How we lead determines whether or not the process inherent to education is successful for the ourselves and others.

In my burgeoning career as a member of the career college community, I have had the honor to serve both as a faculty member and as a leader (first at the program manager level and subsequently at the director level).   As a new faculty member, I had the good fortune to work under a very supportive director and campus president.  Both  felt very strongly  that the role of the faculty was (and is) to assist in the student in achieving career success, as well as personal maturation.  While it took me some time to appreciate this role, I can now concretely understand how important the “personal maturation” aspect of our role is.

There is, however, one challenge with this role: how can or should we accomplish it?  In my mind, it is a different onus altogether to assist our students in personal maturation.  For most of my instructors, as it was for me, the initial view is that the role of the faculty is to teach.  To teach, regardless of its formal definition, often means to deliver information that we then expect the student to learn.  To learn is to be able to utilize the information both within its received context and—within reason—in novel ones.  To teach someone to enter medical record information, take blood pressure, or to give a massage is a concrete skills that can be evaluated objectively.  Success in this aspect can be measured.  But how do we teach someone “to mature”?

The definition of maturing is growth in one or more dimensions of life: social, mental, spiritual, etc.  But the essence of maturation is transformation.  To mature, a tree must take the elements surrounding it—earth, water, sunlight, wind, and air—and change them, through its own processes, into usable tools for growth.  A tree is endowed at birth with the structures and tools to achieve this; otherwise, it quickly withers and dies.  Human beings are much the same, in that we must take what our environment gives us and transform it into something useful.  The challenge is that, unlike the tree, people required nourishment in dimensions below those of survival.  We require, according to Maslowe and others, elements such as beauty, purpose, and internal drive to strive for greater things.  Without these, we begin to wither as individuals and, over time, feel ourselves relegated to role of automaton within our own lives; or, perhaps worse, as a battery used to empower the lives of others.

While the career school or college literature suggests that our role is changing, we remain the choice of many people who view jobs as work rather than as a venue for engaging and evolving their best qualities and ideals.  Hence, they seek “job training,” and we may very well be—although we may not like to admit it—“just” giving them job training.  At our best though, we strive to give our students a perspective that allows them to see themselves in a new light.  But to do this, we must transform our students.  Which brings us back to our previous question: how do we teach someone to mature?  How do we teach some to transform?

Teaching transformation is a top-down process that must be a lived philosophy and reality for leadership, the faculty, and then the students.  Therefore, the only way to transform the lives of our students is to be engaged in the process ourselves at a leadership level.  The remainder of this article will look at the ways in which we can implement a model of transformational leadership within our own communities.

The “ground” for transformation is the five key dimensions in which we can experience change in our lives.  I show these five elements in Figure 1 below.  The physical dimension of wellness corresponds to our self of well-being and stability within our body.  This can mean freedom from disease, a sense of the body’s ability to perform in response to our demands, and self-esteem regarding our physical appearance.  The emotional dimension of wellness corresponds to a recognition of our emotional state by those around us.  The ability to express emotion and to have that expression recognized by others, without judgment or evaluation is a critical component of well-being, even more so than being “understood.”  The psychological dimension corresponds to the preponderance of satisfaction, stability, and consistency.  This same concept can be expressed, in the negative, as the absence of anger, fear, and doubt; however, it is more important that the positive expression of this exist since a leader can actively achieve this.  The intellectual dimension corresponds to the fulfillment of cognitive needs for development and expansion, as well as appropriate challenging of staid and outmoded models of thinking.  Intellectual growth demands appropriately delivered challenges to modes of thinking, particularly those that are motivated by the other aspects of the model.  Finally, the spiritual dimension involves the development of a sense of purpose and the unification of our moment-by-moment narrative with that purpose.  While seemingly the sole purview of religious or “spiritual” practice, tending to the spiritual is perhaps the most important function of the leader.

In each of these definitions, I emphasize particular elements.  These emphasized points correspond to the key elements of the transformational leader, which can be delivered as 5 descriptive statements. These five descriptive statements are:

The transformational leader…

1. 1. Tends to physical health through effective techniques to maintain or expand the scope of physical ability;
2. 2. Recognizes the emotional livelihood of herself as a prerequisite to acknowledging the emotional lives of others;
3. 3. Maintains an internal sense of satisfaction, stability, and consistency through timely recognition and integration of new information in light of these values;
4. 4. Embraces the unknown and uncomfortable as the ground for rapid and lasting growth; and,
5. 5. Persists in her role because it is synonymous with her internal vision of herself.

To these five statements we can add—once they are internally achieved—“and helps others do they same.”

The vehicle for embodying—not achieving—these statements is an active practice of self-reflection and self-examination in relation to them.  Therefore, the first action for the transformational leader is to engage this practice on a consistent basis.  Because self-reflection is most effective when the leader uses a structured process, the following grid can give shape and support to that effort.

<insert question grid here>

When performing self-reflection, particularly one in which we rank or measure ourselves, two missteps are fairly common. The first is that we forget that this is self­-reflection.  No one is evaluating our performance, and no one else will read this.  Forgetting that we are self-reflecting can lead us to view our processes as better than they are because we are afraid that we are being evaluated.  The second is that we become overly critical with ourselves and view our work poorly because we become mired in the mentality: “I could have done better.”  There is nothing wrong with the statement—in fact, that statement is critical to self-improvement.  However, it can also be used as a shield to allow us to exist in sustained mediocrity in relation to our potential.  This is not acceptable to the transformational leader.

Based on this, the first recommendation for creating a culture of transformational leadership is to commit, as a leader, to a sustainable process of self-reflection.  The transformational leader documents this process so that there is awareness of, and respect for, the personal growth and the changing nature of self-perception.  When a leader commits to self-reflection, he or she inherently grows all dimensions of the self.

Self-reflection, while valuable, must also lead to action.  Consequently, the next stage of transformational leadership must be concrete action within the five dimensions that we can actively change.  These concrete actions are highly variable, but any action should be linked to the specific aspects of the self-reflection.  Since most of us are familiar with the elements of physical wellness—even though we may avoid it!—we will take a look at actions within the emotional and psychological dimensions.

All human beings have an emotional core.  The emotional core consists of the range of internally expressible emotions that each of us can experience.  For example, most people have an internal emotional states that we label “anger,” “happiness,” or “joy.”  However, each of us can experience those internal emotions in different ways, to different degrees, and at different levels of visibility.  In response to the same situation or stimulation, a person may experience “compassion” with tearful eyes or a wide smile; in a way that makes them feel suffused with the sensation or localized to a specific place; and may have a very demonstrative display or a very subdued.

Regardless of how we express, it is important that our emotional state is fully and authentically expressed.   Importantly, the transformation leader does not deny or suppress the emotional core of his or her leadership.  Stoicism is not a virtue in transformational leadership.  Instead, an authenticity regarding emotional reaction is critical.  In his work developing non-violent communication, psychologist and communication expert Marshall Rosenberg places incredible importance on this point.  Being able to identify our own internal states is a critical first process in dialoguing with others in a way that takes into account emotion.  Identifying and positioning emotions, particularly in critical dialogues, can dramatically increase their effectiveness without becoming maudlin or mawkish.

Therefore, the first action in relationship to emotion is to develop an awareness of:

1. The way in which we express or suppress emotion;
2. The degrees to which situations invoke our emotional response; and,
3. That way in which we externally express or suppress our emotional state.

The “answers” to these areas can be in the following form:

1. I really try to suppress my feeling of anger.
2. I get angry when a person who I don’t feel knows something “fakes” an answer.
3. I suppress this emotion by crossing my arms and biting my lip.

While this exercise may feel difficult or hokey, the lack of emotional awareness can play a huge role in why we either resist situations or have difficulty in handling them.  Once we become aware of our own emotional core, we can then interact authentically with others.

In the area of psychological awareness, it is important to scope the area of inquiry.  This is neither “pop psychology” or “therapy.”  Rather, it is deeper mental questions and issues.  The idea brought up above was the “preponderance of satisfaction, stability, and consistency.”  Like the emotional area, this can be difficult to investigate.  There is an old Zen phrase regarding meditation: “The mind cannot polish the mind.”  It often challenging for us to ask questions about ourselves, particularly something that connects to our fundamental ability to experience a state of being.  Satisfaction, stability, and consistency are states of being. To assist in this process, we can look at the following brainstorming questions:

1. What does the term “stable” mean for you?
2. How do you feel in the situations that are the opposite of this term?
3. What does it mean for you to be satisfied?
4. How do you achieve satisfaction in your daily life? in your work life?
5. How would you define consistency?  What does it look like?
6. How do you experience consistency in your daily life?

What may come up in response is an amalgam of different types of words, cutting across multiple areas of life: physical, emotional, social, etc.  Importantly, do not censor these thoughts as they come up.  While avoiding any forcing, try to exhaust your thoughts on the subject.  Then, examine the list.  Is there anything that surprises you? seems inconsistent?  Again, don’t cross out the things that don’t seem to fit.  These are all valuable insights.

Based on your definition lists, begin to connect the things in your daily personal and professional life with this list.  How much parity or disparity is there between your list and your experience of everyday life?  What concrete decisions and actions could you take to make changes that would improve your sense of stability, satisfaction, and consistency?

Using these three dimensions as a starting point, the potential transformational leader can begin the process of self-reflection and self-examination.  From this self-reflection and self-examination we can begin to develop our own internal and external process of transformation.  From this seed,  we can begin to transform the organizations and people around us.

What makes international travel is the people you meet, and the stories that you hear—if you’re open to listening.

Last night, I came back to La Croisette for dinner.  I had firmly decided that I was done with the experience of living above a bar, so I decided to check email, and check online for additional booking options in the nearby area.  While I was sitting for dinner, a woman who I had seen in Siem Reap at Hanumanalaya (her name is Hannah) showed up at the restaurant.  Of course, I invited her over and we sat down and talked.  She is a Londoner who had done quite a bit of travel internationally, taught math for 4 months as volunteer work in Africa, and was an all round nice person.  So we chatted, and she taught me quite a bit about international travel.

Here were some of the lessons I learned:

1. Never get a place above a restaurant, it has vermin and smells (yes!).
2. Showers of the type I saw are not uncommon (good to know!).
3. Always look like you know where you are going when you first get off the boat.
4. Lonely Planet is written by and for backpackers, who consider a place up and coming if it’s a backwater bush village which once had one hut that counted as a guesthouse, but now has another guesthouse and a place to eat.

This, naturally, helped shape my thoughts about future experiences with travel, and how to decode the language of Lonely Planet.  Now Phnom Penh makes perfect sense!  We spent a very companionable meal discussing national issues of identity and culture, as well as the value of education.  Tomorrow she is heading off to Bangkok, and was debating seeing the killing fields.  Since I am going there tomorrow, I invited her to come along if she so wanted to.  We will be meeting at La Croisette today, if she wants to go—otherwise, it’s more postcards and reading I suspect.

We also met a New Zealand couple who were on vacation with their two children.  I swear that the two girls were a mirror of two squirrelly girls I know.  The youngest was climbing all over Hannah, sawing at our table with a butter knife, and generally expressing the fact that she was WAY overstimulated, tired, and ready for bed.  Her parents were teaching at an English school in Kuwait, which I think is good money and great perks, which probably also allowed them to travel on holiday for four weeks.

After dinner with Hannah, I booked a room at the incredibly swank Amanjaya.  In an interesting mathematical coincidence, my total cost of staying at Rory’s for 2 nights and at Amanjaya for 1 is exactly exactly equal to the total costs of what I would have spent on room and lodging had I stayed at Hanumanalaya.  Weird, huh?  (Om shrim maha lakshimiyei swaha—thank you, great Goddess, for the reminder about how abundance flows) So I headed back for my last night at Rory’s, and ended up having an interesting conversation with the two girls who worked the bar (and two beers).  They taught me some more Khmer, and they laughed at how fast I talked.  So I tried to talk very sloooowwwwwllllyyy, which made them laugh again.

At some point, a very drunk man comes into the bar.  I had to listen very closely to understand him, first because he had a great Irish brogue, and second because he seemed to be speaking in Khmer occasionally.  Turns out that it was Rory himself.  I toasted him with a “slainte” and an “erin go breagh” before going back to my beer.  He started talking to the two girls behind the counter, and he kept repeating, “I was bold tonight.”  I eventually piped up and started to get the story out of him.  It seems that, wherever he had been, a man had struck a woman, and he had intervened in some way.  This evidently cleared the bar, but I really didn’t get much more out of him.  He was, as they say, sloppy drunk, but lovable as he chatted up a couple of other patrons who came in for a drink.  I never did figure out exactly how he handled himself, but his wife came to collect him, and took him home.

There was also a Canadian gent in the bar, who had planned to spend his retirement traveling Asia or staying in Cambodia (I was unsure of which).  Turns out the economic situation in Canada (and globally) eradicated his pension and required him to return to Toronto.  One of Rory’s interactions was to tell him to save his money when he tried to buy a beer, and later Rory told the girls to give him his money back.  Both the Canadian and Rory seemed like decent fellows, the one down on his luck and the other compassionate to it.

After I finished my second beer, I headed up stairs to my room.  Supported by Hannah’s advice, I tried to not focus on any of the negatives, but the smell and my sense of sleeping on very unkept sheets gave me another bad night of sleep.  I consoled myself with the fact that I would be spending my last day in Cambodia in the relative luxury of Amanjaya, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

This morning, I scouted the local area for a place with free wi-fi.  I found a couple, mostly in restaurants, and so I had to also decide where to eat breakfast.  So I set up at La Croisette and had a delicious American breakfast (3 eggs, sausage, bacon, bread, and fried potatoes and tomatoes).  At the same time, I got to get in touch in with Patrick and enjoy a conversation via texting, which was necessary for two reasons.  The first, and most practical, was that I did not have headphones so that people couldn’t hear him talking.  The second, I thought expressing my initial thoughts on Rory’s and Phnom Penh would be ill received by the locals.  So we chatted and I ate.  After an hour or so, he and I parted ways, and I went back to Rory’s to begin my day.

So I decided to follow the Walking Tour included in the Lonely Planet guide for Cambodia.  These walking tours, I assumed, were intended to take you through the most interest parts of the city, providing you with “the city in a nutshell” in essence.  So, I  made my way to Wat Phnom, and proceeded on the walking tour.

I guess I need to look at the walking tour of Sacramento to compare, but I felt like this walking tour was a little bit dodgy.  Either that, or there was nothing interesting to see, because for the most part, I got to experience busy streets with a lot of trash.  However, I did got into the city’s mall, which was hilarious.  The mall is set-up the same as a street market, so there are stores in the middle of the walking area.  Of course, I also noticed that a Lacoste shirt that probably would cost 90 dollars in the states was only 27 here.

After walking around for a bit, I decided to stop for lunch at the Black Apsara, which I passed on my tour and was also mentioned by Lonely Planet as a restaurant that gives back to the community.  So I stopped for a bite to eat.  I had a brief conversation with the young man who took my order, as he was trying to learn better English. So I helped him with some choice phrases regarding dates, times, and how people can ask for the bill.  After I was done, I grabbed my water bottle, and then continued my walk.  I decided to hit the National Museum, since it supposedly had many of the statues removed from Angkor Wat.  In my conversation with the Aussie couple at Linga, they didn’t know why I would want to see it, since I’ve already seen Angkor.

Turns out though, the National Museum is where many of the Hindu statues that were once at Angkor temples are stored.  I’m glad that I skipped the Angkor Museum in Siem Reap and instead went here.  (I had read on the Internet that the Angkor Museum was pretty much a waste anyway)  They had many examples of small statues, stelae, and large statues from the temples. I found images of Durga, Lakshmi, Shiva, Brahma, Ganesha, Vishnu, and many many more.  But believe it or not, they pull the same trick in the National Museum that they do at the temple.  I was offered a flower to give to a statue of Shiva and found a donation plate.  This Buddhism thing is quite a racket in this country.  I mean, foreigners are practically speaking the only ones who get charged entrance fees to either Angkor or the National Museum (or Wat Prohm, by the way).  And they ask us to donate again, using religion as a vehicle.  It’s really rather exploitive!

After I was done with the National Museum, I headed back to Rory’s.  My boring plan for the remainder of the evening is to go back to La Croisette to post this blog, catch up on email, and in general just relax.  Tomorrow I get to experience the very worst of the Khmer Rouge: Tuol Sleng Museum (the former S-21 detention and torture center) and the Killing Fields.  After this I will be done with my visit to Phnom Penh.  I spend Saturday night here, and then catch the noon bus back to Siem Reap to catch my flight home.

Again, I can’t believe what an adventure this is, and has been.  Now it doesn’t seem so outlandish to jaunt around the globe on an occasional wandering.

At 12:30 today, I departed Siem Reap by bus to Phnom Penh.  My reasons for doing this were relatively simple and straightforward: I was bored with Siem Reap, and I decided that I should try something different.  So, completely out of the ordinary, I bought a bus ticket, left my giant red bag at Hanumanalaya, and took a minimal change of clothes in my computer bag.  I decided I would do this part of my vacation on a budget, so I found a review of Rory’s Pub and Guesthouse online, and found that I could book a room online.  While I could have stayed for 11, a queen bed was 60, so I decided to book it (plus, the single room wasn’t available all three nights I needed it). 

I spent my last morning at Hanumanalaya packing and getting myself organized for my little adventure.  Hanumanalaya refunded the difference in my hotel costs in cash, so that gave me a little bit more of a buffer.  After a small scare created by the fact that the bus that was supposed to pick me up was half-an-hour late, I got to the bus station, and boarded the double decker from Siem Reap to Phnom Penh.  I paid $8 dollars because they said the seat were wider and it was air conned.  Wider is up for debate-they were pretty narrow-but it was indeed air conned.  After everyone backed into their assignment seats, we were off.

The night before I had decided to go to Linga Bar, one of two local gay hangouts, and see what it was like.  I ended up chatting up an Aussie couple who had just come from Phnom Penh, and had done some previous Asia traveling.  We had a very pleasant conversation.  While we were talking, one of them (I think it was Peter) said that I should make sure I was opposite the driver side of the bus.  When I asked why, he proceed to explain the driving habits of bus drivers, which include occasionally trying to drive three abreast on a road (which is really designed for 2, sometimes 1 1/2 vehicles).  Should there be a head-on collision, I would be safest opposite the driver side.

I was on the driver side.  I hope that all those donations really did give me good luck.

The trip was relatively uneventful.  We stopped for about 20 minutes, which gave people time for a bathroom break, and some food.  I grabbed a spring roll, mango, and some bread at a booth.  This is a substantially cheaper way to eat in Cambodia, as it ended up costing me about $1.50, and it quelled my hunger quite well.  We hopped back on the bus, and continued our trip to Phnom Penh.  During the trip I listened to my iPod and read “The Spiritual Brain” by Mario Beauregard and Denyse O’Leary.  It had been on my shelf for awhile, I brought it on the trip to finish it.  It has been a fairly fast read, but very interesting.

We arrived in Phnom Penh shortly after 6:30 at the bus station.  We when disembarked, tuk tuk drivers were ready to assault us.  When one quoted me a ride of $2 to Rory’s I jumped at it.  We arrived after a short trip, and I agreed to have him take me to the Killing Fields and S-21 (the area where captives of the Khmer Rouge were held and tortured) for $12, which seemed like a reasonable price to be driven around.  So we arranged to meet on Saturday, and I turned my attention to Rory’s.

Remember what I said about Hanumanalaya?  About how I was depressed about spending $65 a night, and being ripped off, and all that?  I TAKE IT BACK, I TAKE IT BACK, I TAKE IT BACK!

So, Rory’s is like any Irish bar.  When I walked in, there were 5 men at the bar who could very well have been Irish, or at least fans of rugby.  I walked up to the bar, gave everyone a nod, and asked one of the Cambodians girls about my room.  I paid my 60 dollars for three nights, and headed up the stairs.  The girl who took my money met me and walked me up the stairs.  I began to get a sinking feeling as we climbed the stairs, and it was confirmed when we got to my room.  A pile of cleaning supplies and empty bags was at the end of the hallway.  As I turned towards my door, I heard a scampering sound and felt something hit my foot.  I looked down, and a six inch or so rat (12 with tail) had rebounded off my feet and scampered into the trash pile.  The girl with me looked surprised, but not apologetic.

When I opened the door, I found a one room area with a tiled floor and a queen bed in the corner with a fridge.  A television was perched on a stand, and I looked for the bathroom and shower.  I found both.  I guess an “ensuite” means a bathroom in the bedroom, but the shower is a hose attached to what I assume to be a little heating unit for water.  There toilet, the sink, and the shower are all in one room.

Oh my god-I’m in my version of hell.

After brief unpacking my clothes, I walked a little bit around the area.  My initial experience of Phnom Penh is the same as my experience at Rory’s-a step down from Siem Reap.  Admittedly, it is completely dark here, and I have no way to explore beyond a few blocks from the hotel while still feeling comfortable.  However, it seems a lot more squalid than Siem Reap, but perhaps that’s just because the zone of Siem Reap in which I journeyed was much more compact.

I decided to grab a quick bite to eat, and then head back to Rory’s to write this entry, and call it a night.  I have no idea when I’ll be able to post, since there’s no wi-fi, and it seems to be difficult to find in this city.  Lonely Planet doesn’t offer much help in that area, possibly because there’s not that much in the way of wi-fi.  So we’ll see what tomorrow brings.  One of the channels on the television is showing videos, and I’m enjoying the amusing subtitles that are amusingly mangling the dialogue (and in the case of Happy Feet, included an interestingly placed expletive).

Adventure indeed!

Lost Faith, Renewed Faith—my last day at Angkor and my day of rest.

My last day of temple hopping hit a snag when I decided to go to Banteay Srei.  According to Lonely Planet, the quality of the temple carvings is amazing, and many of the buildings show details from the Ramayana, the tale of Rama, Sita, and Hanuman.  Based on this, I was very excited to go.  The day before, I had asked at the front desk how much a tuk-tuk ride to Banteay Srei might be, and I was told 15, 16 dollars.  Thinking that to be reasonable, and also thinking that I could spend an hour or so there meditating, I decided to pay it.

Big mistake.

I will say that it has been the only time that I have been outright furious during my stay in Cambodia.  The short version of the story is that it ended up costing me 20, and for all intents and purposes, the trip was a complete waste of time.  The main part of the temple was completely inaccessible and had been cordoned off.  I was LIVID.  Openly livid.  Two hours round trip for 10 minutes.  When I went back to the tuk-tuk driver, who worked for the hotel, he told me it would be another 20 dollars to see another sight that was relatively nearby.  This was AFTER we agreed on 20 for basically four hours.  I told him to forget and take me back to Hanumanalaya.  Etienne’s advice from yesterday resounded in my head and I decided then and there to leave Siem Reap and go on to Phnom Penh.  I was feeling like there was a deal between one of the front desk people and this guy that I was on the losing end of.

So when I got back to Hanumanalaya, I checked on the particulars of checking out early.  I then headed into town to check on bus tickets.  It was around 6 to 8 dollars to travel the 6 hours to Phnom Penh by bus.  I had received an email from Dad about a day ago encouraging me to wander, so I decided it was meant to be.  So I will be checking out of Hanumanalaya on Thursday and heading to the capital.  I located a guesthouse for $11 a night (!!) and will be staying there three nights.  I will likely follow the Lonely Planet itinerary for two days in Phnom Penh, and then I get back into Siem Reap at 6:00 or so to catch my flight to Seoul on Sunday.  All around, I think it will be an interesting experience.

That is not to say that my entire day was a loss.  I went back to photograph Vishnu and Lakshmi in better light at Prasat Kravan, and finished my day at Angkor Wat.  I had a very peaceful circumambulation of the bas-relief galleries as the sun set, and bade farewell to Vishnu and the Buddha.  All in all, the experience of being in that place and this country was amazing.

My faith in Cambodia was renewed when I had a long conversation with one of the people who works the front desk at Hanumanalaya.  The conversation was about Cambodia’s growth as a nation, its national psyche, and what would be needed for it to emerge as a economic presence in Asia.  It was very nice to have this connection.  Our conversation was cut short by another guest arriving, but I think he renewed my faith in bringing people to this country to experience it.  It is truly an undiscovered gem.  I hope anyone reading this blog has taken all my experiences in the spirit of personal growth and discovery, and I hope that those who come with me on tour next year experience the same!

My night ended up being spent with my Canadian and Aussie compatriots, along with an Italian and a Swede.  Again, it was so much fun to be in that mix of cultures and ways of life, particularly when the Italian gent (who was around my age) explained that he works for 9 months and Italy pays him to do nothing for 3, so he just goes on holiday.  F#!@ me!  What a great deal that is!  And Sweden evidently is even better.  I made an Ikea and ligonberry reference that went over well.  All the travelers I’ve met have been totally laid back and fun—just swapping stories over drinks and enjoying the time away from whatever we consider ordinary.

Today—Wednesday in Cambodia—has been about doing absolutely nothing, except buying bus tickets, having amok for lunch (Cambodia’s traditional dish), and catching up on this blog.  The sun is starting to set as a I write this, on what has been a sunny and cloudy day alternately.  It will be my last sunset in Siem Reap as a guest of Hanumanalaya.  The adventure continues tomorrow with a ride to Phnom Penh.  I’ve gathered quite a bit of good luck in this country—I hope—and maybe I can ride it for the rest of my trip here.  Although I made the decision to leave Siem Reap out of frustration, I’m hoping it turns into an informative adventure to another part of the country, and gives me the insights to travel out into the world.

As I write this, it is 11:57 Siem Reap time-a very long day indeed!  As my pass to Angkor Wat heads toward expiration, I have started to become very templed out, feeling compelled to visit the temples again and again.  I think this is true temple fatigue.  It’s also a function of the fact that I am pushing myself to visit the last remaining temples.  This sense of temple obligation is self-generated, and leads to me resenting some of the temples for being “less than spectacular.”  (As if the temples existed solely for my pleasure.)  Combined with the dehydration that follows any long day of bike riding, climbing, walking, and general physical activity in continuous heat, it leads to a sense of fatigue bordering on crankiness.  I think the aura around me is palpable.  At certain point, children at the temples didn’t even come up to me.  While this would normally generate a sense of gratitude, it functionally only generated a sense of relief.

So, yesterday I had shopped at a booth of Kwan and her family.  I had promised them on Sunday that I would come to visit, and following sunrise and prayers, I biked the mini-route to circle around to Banteay Kdei.  They were there and waiting for me.  While I was not expecting to spend much money while in Cambodia, I figured that I would at least get some random gifts for family and others while I was here.  So while I bantered back and forth with them, I ended up purchasing some scarves, t-shirts, and the like.  As part of my negotiations, I got a water and a young coconut for later.  I was introduced to coconut water by a colleague at work, and I absolutely love it.  In the States, I purchase it in the can, but in Cambodia, you drink it right from the coconut.  They hack away at the top, insert a straw, and voila.  It’s filled with water, and there’s also electrolytes in it, making it nature’s Gatorade.  When all the fluid is gone, they can hack it open, providing access to the tasty flesh inside.  Too much of it makes my stomach a little raw, but it’s a wonderful way to rehydrate.

After my bargaining, I hopped on my bike to speed back to Hanumanalaya for breakfast.  Since I arrived late, I was concerned that breakfast would be a no go, but they accommodated me graciously.  Normally Patrick and I would talk over breakfast, but he was at bowling, so ended my meal, and headed back to my room to prep for my day.

I had my itinerary of three or four temples to hit, so I headed off first to Phnom Bakheng, the supposed sunset hotspot for Angkor Wat.  I now understand why I kept missing it.  There is an old staircase leading up to the temple that I could see from the street.  However, it is roped off as being inaccessible, so I consistently just ignored it.  I stopped just past it, and locked up my bike.  I made my first stop in the Angkor Wat toilet system, which are pretty swank-a step above rest stop, and free to people with Angkor passes.  It also said that foreigners would need to pay 2000 riel ($.50) and nationals paid 500 riel.  The only reason that I noticed that is because I don’t know how you can even get into Angkor Wat if you are a foreigner without buying a pass.

I started to head towards a set of structures directly to my left.  Baksei Chomrong (as I would later discover they were called) are a set of small temples that were originally dedicated to Hindu gods, but, as always, were subsequently closed off in three of the four directions.  They were relatively undecorated and unremarkable, so I just enjoyed walking through them and feeling their inner space.  I noticed a path running along side the trees, near the left side of the area (close to Phnom Bakheng), so I began to follow it.  After a few meters, the trees parted and revealed a set of stairs leading up.  It didn’t looked roped off, so I proceeded to climb up the hill.  A few meters and some slightly heavier breathing, I came to roped off portion, but discovered a tourist path.  I hopped on the tourist path and started to wind my way up the hill, meeting some descending tourists along the way.

As I rounded one of the bends, the structure of Phnom Bakheng came into view.  I felt an immediate rush of happiness that I had discovered it, and now understood why I had missed it all those times.  So, with a lighter step I walked over to the southern stairs.  At the base of the stairs I found a statue of a bull.  Assuming that this was a Shiva temple, the bull would be Nandi, his friend and vehicle (all Hindu gods have an animal vehicle or companion).  There were some incense set-up near him, so I light some incense and offered it to him as a blessing.  Nearby, two buddhist monks were chatting with a young woman.  It seemed slightly incongruous, in that the prayer area to Nandi was poorly maintained (the incense placing areas was packed with sticks), and the monks were laughing and joking.  I reminded myself that in Buddhism, every man is required to become a monk for a short period of time.  Perhaps they were just biding their time until their monkhood was over?

I began to scale Phnom Bakheng.  Like all temples intended to represent the climb of the sacred Mount Meru, it was quite a hike.  As I climbed, I noted all of the filled in towers (Buddhism again!), and started to get annoyed.  This annoyance would permeate my day, and began a trend that would permeate my experience at the temples.  I continued my climb to the top, and found myself with a beautiful unobstructed vista of trees to the north of the temple.  The blazing sun was starting irritate me (along with dehydration, probably), and so I sought the solace of a shady seat on the northern steps of the top tower.  Structurally, the number of towers and other elements added up to 108, a sacred number in Hinduism.  So, at the top of the mala, I sat and listened to the sounds of nature and watched the still scene of the forest.  The moment of repose quieted my mind and heart.

I headed down the temple, and found the tourist path out.  The walk was uneventful, except for a surprise encounter with a snake in which I scared him more than he scared me.  I watched him scurry off the path and into a tree.  Excitement over for the moment, I continued my walk down the path.  Sun, sweat, and lack of fluids lead me to accept an offer for a pineapple, during which two girls hovered attempting to push more on me.  Feeling incredibly irritable, I was polite but short in my insistence that I did not need anything.  I took my pineapple chunks, and headed back to my bike to head off to my next stop.

In order to get to Preah Neak Pean, I had to take the grand circuit route, so I biked past Bayon, Baphuon, and the Terraces, and out into the jungle.  I had brought my iPod headphones, so I was able to listen to music while I biked.  While I would have thought this against the point earlier in my trip, the music helped to make the ride go by and keep me from feeling overly agitated or frustrated as I got hotter and hotter.  I reached Preah Neak Pean, waved my pass at the guard, and walked down a tree lined path to the structure.  Preah Neak Pean was a sacred ablutions pool that featured four pools and a central structure.

When I arrived at the area, I noticed that the four pools were functionally drained.  I wasn’t quite sure why this was initially.  The central area still had water in it, and therefore was inaccessible, which was disappointing.  A strange statue of a horse with human legs sat in the middle of the water (referring to a story of how a boddhisattva rescued followers by transforming into a horse).  I wandered around the structure, taking pictures of the areas next to the pools.  I noticed the smell of incense coming from the area within the pools, so I decided to check it out.  Turns out that the drainage/feeding systems for the small pools also contained carvings.  The various spouts were in the shape of a lion, a naga, a human, and an elephant.  I was pleasantly surprised by the carving detail here, and took photos of each of the heads.  Trying to capture some of the photos was difficult, as the iPhone doesn’t like certain sun positions, and consistently darkens the photo.  Reconnaissance complete at Preah Neak Pean, I headed off to Pre Rup and Eastern Mebon.

By the time I arrived at Pre Rup, saddle sore, hot and tired, I was beginning to resent the temples.  After a certain point, there just isn’t anything crazy new about them.  Combined with afternoon sun and irritation from sweat and sunscreen, I was pretty much ready to call it quits.  Both Pre Rup and Mebon are amazingly similar, although Pre Rup was supposedly a cremation center for the royalty and Mebon was a temple.  The highlight at Mebon was its perfectly carved elephants (Jai Ganesh!), most of which were still very much intact.  I took some pictures of the elephants, and decided to go to Prasat Kravan, a small temple which supposedly had images of Vishnu and Lakshmi.

Prasat Kravan is a small, unassuming temple.  It would be easy to bike by it-like I did, a few times!-simply because it is fairly inconspicuous.  I turned off at the temple, and walked over to the 5 squat towers.  In the middle tower were carvings of Vishnu in three of his forms.  I smiled with delight, as the energy in the room was palpable.  One carving showed the Cosmic Vishnu, one as the dwarf Vamana, and one riding Garuda, his sacred eagle vehicle.  They were fantastic.  I could have stayed there and meditated for a bit, but there was little room, and the tourists were crowding in.  I left that room and headed to another small room where I found three carvings of Lakshmi (Om Shrim Hrim!).  I was delighted at the images, which were very much traditional and recognizable.  Uplifted by this little find, asked for her blessing and left the temple.

I had to return to Banteay Kdei to claim my afternoon coconut, and meet Kwan again, so I headed back.  On my bike back, they passed me on a moto, and I smiled and waved.  When I made it to Banteay Kdei, another girl that I had seen the previous day came up to me.  We talked for a bit, and I gave her a dollar for bracelet, as I had promised I would.  She gave me two instead of one, and we walked to meet and sit with Kwan.  The details of the conversation were small, but the moment was very nice.  Kwan and the girl from whom I bought the bracelet taught me some Cambodian as Kwan made me another bracelet.  I drank my coconut water and enjoyed this connection between people from far flung parts of the world.  After she finished my bracelet, we walked out of the temple area, and I suddenly found myself surrounded by children.  Kwan stole my bike, and when it was returned, another girl sat down on it saying I had to take her with me.  It was all in good fun, and it lifted my spirits and made me feel very grateful for these moments of intimacy with the people of Cambodia.  I received two bracelets and an ornament from them as gifts, which I am now wearing.

I headed back to Hanumalaya in the dark, which was not very worrisome, except at one point I think the lights of a moto illuminated a snake in the middle of the road.  I think I was protected by the all good luck I received from the children!  At Hanumanalaya, I showered and changed, and then headed into the market for dinner.  I decided that I would do some cheap eats, so I found Behind Bars, a cute little restaurant making pho and Khmer food.  I sat down to a large bowl of soup and Evian Water for $3.50.  The food was cooked in a little stall by the street, so I kept smiling at the woman to show my approval.

As I was awaiting my change, a man (Etienne) and woman (Lisa) walked by checking out the menu.  I started a conversation with them.  The woman was from Vancouver, so I mentioned Luluemon.  That sealed the deal.  After grabbing my change, I walked with them, showing them the area.  They had just arrived from Bangkok and were sharing a guest room together.  We checked out some of the sights, and they settled at Kama Sutra, and I joined them for a chai.  Much conversation ensued on a variety of topics.  I learned just how much other people travel-the infamous “holiday.”  While I could record the conversations (which went from politics to the ribald), it just struck me that this is exactly how travel should be: constant connections.  I ended up hanging with them for the rest of the night.  We meant up with an Aussie couple at Dead Fish Tower, and then we went to the Angkor What? bar for drinks.

When we arrived Angkor What?, I noticed the sign at the bar that said, “This is not a Tourist Information Center – So Shut Up and Drink.”  Laughing, I considered a drink, and settled on Sol beer (which Etienne had ordered).  The bar was packed with ex-pats and the accents were a bewildering mix.  The place was the classic definition of raucous, and it was great.  We stood and sat and chatted.  Etienne was bewildered by my lack of interest in leaving Siem Reap, and said I should at least head to Phnom Penh.  I wasn’t so sure-I don’t lean towards the absolutely adventurous, unless others suggest or initiate it.  Eventually (around midnight!) we separated, and I biked back to Hanumanalaya.  I found the gate closed, but luckily, someone was there to let me in.  Tired, but happy, I ended up spending an hour talking to John and Loren back at home.  Assured that I had a job when I got back, I feel asleep at 1:30 AM for my last day of Angkor temples.

Today I experienced an interesting twist on the whole begging phenomenon: Buddhist Begging.

I am not very conversant with Buddhist philosophy on social issues like poverty.  However, it appears that one key component of Buddhism is giving to those less fortunate.  In almost all places where there is a Buddha there is also an offering bowl.  At the statue of Vishnu (not a Buddha!), there is a plexiglass box for people to place money into.  At one of the temples I visited where I was accosted (Preah Khan) at the end of the tour, the tour guide tried to tell me by paying him it would be “good luck for you.”

Hmmmm…

Unfortunately, my belief structure doesn’t really include this kind of thought process.  While I am increasingly-thanks to the beautiful and loving Patrick-attuned to service and to charity, even more so then before, I don’t get the idea that I get luckier by giving my money away.  Let me restate that-I don’t get luckier by being guilted into giving my money away.  In fact, it seems like spiritual ransoming when people do that.  Consequently, I bristle at the  concept when it’s presented to me.  And, up to this point, I have found my lack of putting money into said plexiglass box-I was planning on doing it on my last day at Angkor-has not caused any problems.

It appears, though, that the Buddha is desperate on Sundays.

I awoke this morning at my usual hour of 4:15, showered, dressed, and headed out on my bike to Angkor Wat to pray.  After 108 “Shri Rama”s, I moved over to a statue that I had not previously noticed.  I heard a tour guide say that it was Lakshmi, Vishnu’s consort, and my beloved Goddess.  Even if he was wrong, if the Buddhists could turn Vishnu into Buddha, then a Vedist could turn a Buddha into Lakshmi. (I think this is a little known aspect of the first law of thermodynamics: gods are neither created nor destroyed, they are only transformed.)  So I sat down to do 108 Lakshmi chants and the Astakam Stotram.  While I was doing this, I detected through my closed eyes that someone had lit a candle, and so I expected to find my gentle old man preparing the space around Vishnu.  Instead, when I opened my eyes, a young gentleman was there.  He proceeded to show me how to pray to the Buddha (IT’S NOT BUDDHA!!!), and then pointed out a ersatz donation plate.  He then said those dreaded words: “good luck for you.”

Rather than ruining my deep sense of calm by accessing my dislike of this phrase, I left two dollars and headed off to the Buddha.  I only spent a moment with the Buddha because I wanted to be off to Preah Khan.  I had seen it with an unwanted sidekick previously, so I wanted to be with the temple without personal interference.  So I quickly hopped on my bike and speed off to Preah Khan.  On the way out-and I am so sorry that I didn’t take a picture-I saw the biggest pig I have EVER seen.  It was literally the size of a cow.  I laughed and told myself that if I saw it on my way back I would take a picture (I didn’t).  Through Angkor Thom and out on the trail of the Great Circuit I went, passing under and out the northern gates of Angkor Thom, where the “churning the sea of milk” balustrade was much the worse for wear. (The asuras now outnumbered the devas, which would have very much changed the story).  An uneventful ride led me to the Preah Kahn, the Sacred Sword temple.

After showing my pass to the guards, I headed down the sandy path to the Western entrance.  From here, I proceeded into the main temple grounds.  In the rising morning sun, the temple was incredibly peaceful.  The only sound were the birds, insects, and my booted feet stepped over the stones.  Without my guide, I was free to explore as I would like.  In one of my jyotish readings, Katyayani Poole told me that part of my chart indicated a preference for “wandering the jungle chanting mantras.”  There’s a good deal of truth in that.  If no one had ever shown up there, I could have spent a very comfortable and pleasurable day exploring each and every stone and drawing of the temple.  In fact, as I was walking, I discovered a cast-off stone structure that looked like a statue of some divine figure that had once been set into a wall.  To give you a modern image-remember in Star Wars Episode 6 when Han Solo was frozen in carbonite?  He was mounted into a wall in Jabba’s palace.  That is what this piece looked like.  I thought it amazing for this piece of sacred art to just be sitting there, waiting for someone to catalogue it, rebuild it, something.

I took a fair amount of pictures at Preah Khan.  Eventually, my solitary reverie among forest and stone, by the arrival of the Buddhist caretakers, and a man in a police hat who started to tell me about the room in which we were in.  I politely cut him short, knowing if I let him continue, I would become agitated, and I didn’t want that to happen.  I walked away towards the north gate of the temple. At this gate, I circle around to the impressive East gate, to note how people were intended to see the temple.  From here, I walked back through the temple, and located an image of Vishnu reclining on Ananta, attended by Lakshmi.  After honoring them, I walked back to the front of the temple, and headed back to my bicycle.  It was close to 8:15, so I decided to head back to Hanumanalaya for breakfast.

On my way back, I stopped at the terraces to see if I could find the leper king statue, not yet knowing that I had found it (see previous post).  Bemused at where this standings statue might be, and with the morning sun starting to irritate my pitta nature, I biked back to Hanumanalaya.  When I arrived, I checked my laptop for messages, and found one from Patrick saying that everyone at Burning Lotus wanted to say hello.  I audio connected to him at Burning Lotus, and then we talked for a bit after I was done with breakfast and he was back at home.

Around 10:30 or so, I headed out again, determined to see the “Tomb Raider” temple, Ta Prohm.  On my way out, I stopped at two small temples, Chau Say Tevoda and Thommanon.  One of the few things that I find frustrating with the Buddhist retrofit of previously Hindu temples is that they seal in three of the four doors.  In Hindu temples, the statues of the Gods are put in rooms that are opened to all four directions.  In Buddhism, only the door leading to the Buddha is left open.  In the pictures from temples, you can see these fill in walls, usually with four blocks on them.  Because of my Vedic bent, I wish they had left them open.

While I was at Chau Say Tevoda, I was chased down by a woman carrying three sticks of incense.  Evidently, the Buddha was still hard up for American dollars, and had come to find me in the form of this slight woman.  She handed me the incense and led me to the Buddha.  I waved the incense as she asked, and to forestall any language barrier issues, I left some money on the donation plate.  After these two startling incidents of forceful karmic robbery, I decided to head to Ta Prohm, where I suspected that Buddha would find me again.

He did not but I was pestered by a young girl selling booking on Angkor Wat and Pol Pot while I drank fresh coconut water.  After my refreshment, I walked through Ta Prohm.  It was indeed the Tomb Raider temple, and Ta Prohm, unlike the other temples, was being consumed by the forest.  This fact gave it a kind of dreamlike quality. I would have loved to see it first thing in the morning, completely devoid of other people.  It is completely and totally ruinous, with large piles of rubble within the temple making it impossible to see certain rooms.  I scrambled with glee over the stones, tempting fate that I would be caught by some overly concerned representative of Apsara.  I wasn’t going to find some hidden treasure like Angelina Jolie, but it awoke my sense of adventure (and naughtiness).  I found the Tomb Raider tree, and braved remonstrance by crossing the rope and taking an up close picture (don’t tell!).

I continued to wander around Ta Prohm for a some time, and then decided to return to Banteay Kdei to see Kwan as I promised.  She saw me and smiled.  I bought a few items as gifts for family and friends back home, and then sat a had more coconut water and meat.  There were about 5 other Cambodians there, and I listened to them talk.  I think some things were said about me, which of course I did not understand.  The one thing this experience taught me was to not leave a person out of a conversation.  But, on the other hand, it was pleasant just to sit and listen to them banter while I ate my coconut.  After some time, I bade them farewell, promising to come back tomorrow (said without a smile).

I biked back to Hanumanalaya, and finished my blog of the events for yesterday.  I then showered, and headed into town for a nice dinner at the Blue Pumpkin, ending with an ice cream sundae (yum!).  Although I intended to walk around the market, I decided to head back to the hotel, and write this blog entry.  I started the many photos uploading to Facebook, and turned on Yungchen Lhamo’s album Ama to accompany me as I write.  I am not feeling as fatigued as I did yesterday, perhaps because I did not work as hard today as I did yesterday!

The plan for tomorrow is to tackle Phnom Bakheng, Prasat Kravan, Preah Neak Pean, and Eastern Mebon.  My Angkor pass expires on Tuesday, so I preparing to wind down my temple viewing.  What an amazing experience it has been!

According to Lonely Planet, there is a point where the average visitor to the Cambodian temples experiences “temple fatigue.”  I would imagine this is the point where you can’t take one more apsara, buddha, or lingam without going on a crazed rampage.  This crazed rampage might be marked by buying all the postcards from the local children and then attempting to sell them yourself to tourists.  Imagine, if you will, the chaos.

I didn’t quite experience that type of temple fatigue today.  However, I did experience physical fatigue brought on my a whole lot of sweating and climbing.  Today’s adventures led to me to explore Bayon, Baphuon, and the surrounding areas.  I realized in my earlier posts that I had confused Bayon and Baphuon.  Bayon is the kingdom of many faces.  Baphuon is practically speaking unseeable, since it has been under restoration work for over 10 years.  Consequently, wherever I mention Baphuon, strike it and replace with Bayon.

The day began as usual — arising at 4:30 AM and heading to Angkor Wat for prayers at the statue of Vishnu and praise to the Buddha.  I learned later in the day that the statue of Vishnu to which I was directing my mantras once sat in the main chamber at the center of Angkor Wat.  Ancient pilgrims would have transversed space and time through the sacred geometry of Angkor to arrive at the great preserver of the universe.  After my prayers, during which time the caretakers of the areas just arrived, I headed out to the Buddha.  The sun was rising, but the full moon was still in the sky, inspiring a beautiful dichotomy of the Western moon and the Eastern Sun — a true moment of hatha yoga!  After a brief moment of silence at the Buddha, I headed off to Bayon.

I had visited Bayon the previous day, but I have discovered that it is almost essential to visit key spots before the tourist crush.  90% of people spend their temple hopping morning at Angkor Wat for the dramatic sunrise. (I’ve actually never watched the sunrise-I’ve been praying.  They’re temples, people!)  So I had Bayon to myself for a good deal of time, which was amazing.  Bayon’s layout feels so much more compact, compared to Angkor, with the second level feeling very much smashed in between the first and the third.  When you climb to the third, however, there is the spacious of the sky and faces everywhere.  According to Lonely Planet, they are the faces of the Boddhisattva Avalokiteshvara made to look very close to the face of the royal patron, Jayavarman VII.  When I saw them, I thought they were the faces of asuras and devas, which I suppose is somewhat close.

I wandered around the beautiful third level, tempted to climb out to the faces that were near the edge of the third floor.  However, both my fear of being caught and my respect for the structure prevented me.  As people began to arrive, I descended and walked the first floor, which was filled with long reliefs depicting scenes from the king’s life.  I simply love scrambling through these temples to get closer to the temple carvings and reliefs.  So I explored and took pictures of these amazing images.  I ended my second visit of Bayon by climbing to the top of the library, and walking around the edge of it.  The climb up was easier than the climb down, so I carefully made my way down the short, narrow flight of steps and then proceed over to Baphuon.

Baphuon looks impressive from a distance, but like some of the Angkor temples, it is completely inaccessible. Evidently, they have been working on it for some time, and my hope is that it is done before I die, because it looks incredible.  I circumambulated the building, but there was little to see.  An promised view of a Buddha failed to materialize, so I left the complex Buddha-less.  I will say that entry bridge is very scenic though.

I cut through the all of Baphuon and found myself in a small commerce area, which I quickly moved through to prevent the inevitable sales pitches.  This was Phimeanakas, the Celestial Palace.  Not so celestial anymore, but a wonderfully thrilling climb up a step set of stairs to reach the top.  I was immediately accosted by a young man who insisted on giving me a tour punctuated with anecdotes that I really didn’t need to pay for.  While I understand the intention behind it, and I am compassionate towards the general poverty, I am here to visit these temples because they are temples.  Since it is a spiritual pilgrimage for me, and I want to experience the temples in peace, the constant nagging for tours or being absconded by a somewhat informed local becomes aggravating.  I escaped by paying him a dollar, to which he commented that he knew I had another dollar.  Since throwing him off the top of the building would probably spark an international incident, I explained that the dollar was for water, and then left.  I descended Phimeanakas sans pictures and with a touch of annoyance.

From there, I headed to the terraces that are in the area.  These are the Terrace of Elephants and the Terrace of the Leper King.  The terrace of the elephants was obvious (look for the terrace with all the elephant carvings), but the terrace of the leper king threw me for a loop.  I blame Lonely Planet which used the term “stands” in its description of the statue.  I in fact saw and photographed the leper king, which was a reproduction of the original (he looked way too fresh to be original).  There were several small temples in the area that I clambered around.  I didn’t check for any of their names, because they are mostly ruins, with little in the way of carvings or architectural notes.

I decided from here to follow the “Little Route,” which completed a smaller tour of the temples than the Grand Route.  The little route, including the distance already covered from Angkor Wat was around 17km.  I headed off on my journey, feeling a little bit of road fatigue from all the biking, but excited to see what the little route contained.

After a few kilometers of biking, I came to Ta Keo.  My only comments on this is that it is hell to climb, but you get to talk with God at the top.  It’s actually a fairly boring temple architecturally, but the climb is killer, and the view spectacular.  I was climbing up, I decided to do the Sri Rama mantra both to cleanse my karma and ensure a positive rebirth should I fall during the climb.  Stairs like these are marked with signs that say “Climb At Your Own Risk.”  They do mean it.  I was surprised that they hadn’t put in a stairway, but perhaps there was one at another part of the temple.

Having braved the climb to the summit of Ta Keo, I headed down and back on the road.  In a short while, I found myself at a place I recognized.  I was a little surprised, expecting the junction of the Grand Route and the Little Route to be farther along.  Nevertheless, I turned right and found myself passing by Bantey Kdei, an old Buddhist school/ashram.  I decided to dismount and head in.  I was assaulted by the usual group of young girls looking to sell me something.  I fended them off and headed into the structure.  The area felt surprisingly peaceful, as if the energy of the ancient school was still there.  I wandered amidst the stone, enjoying the peace and quiet.

As I exited, I was again attacked by the young girls.  For some reason, I decided to banter, and was rewarded by the quick wit of a young girl named Kwan.  I told her I would come back tomorrow, and she said that I was lying.  I asked her how she knew (I was), and she said then when I smiled and said it, it was a lie.  Impressed with this analysis, I repeated the fact that I would come back with a straight face.  She laughed.  By this time, we were joined by a girl selling books.  She joined in the fun.  We bantered back and forth for a bit, and I told them that I was going but I would come back.  The girl selling books asked me to pinkie promise.  I was entirely amused and surprised by this gesture, so I pinkie promised and left Bantey Kdei.

From Bantey Kdei, I decided to headed back to Angkor Wat to meditate at the statue of Vishnu.  As I entered the sanctuary, I decided to sit in the window sill, since hordes of tourists were wandering through.  From my time sitting there and watching, I can make the follow observations.  First of all, white people think of Vishnu as a photo op.  One gentleman in particular stood along side the statue as if Vishnu were some Cambodian worker they grabbed to provide proof that they were indeed in Cambodia.  The French-toujours les Français!-took pictures of Him as if he were Jerry Lewis.  On the other hand, many of the Asians showed him deep respect and reverence as if he were the Buddha.  This, of course, impressed me-it’s a temple, people!-but it also amused me because Vishnu is not Buddha, and vice versa.  Of course, some believe that the Buddha was the last incarnation of Vishnu, but I don’t think any of those people are actually Buddhist.  I watched their reverence with respect, noticing the different actions they took.

I took a few moments to meditate there in padmasana.  The old gentlemen who was there previously was there with me, and we both sat quietly.  I got up from my meditation, lit incense to Vishnu, and placed it in the offering bowl.  I then went and bowed before the old man to show my respect.  He grasped my hands and spoke to me in Cambodian, which I did not understand, but I hope that they were positive.  From here, I left Angkor Wat to return to Hanumanalaya.  Once again, I enjoyed a soothing dip in the pool, with the blessing of water flowing from Ganesha’s trunk.

I decided to shower and head into town for dinner at Soup Dragon.  On this trip I finally figured out how the streets worked, and avoided a useless circling of the main area.  Feeling pleased with myself, I settled into a meal of spring rolls and Khmer soup.  Way too much food with a  1.5L mineral water for $8.50.  Fabulous!  Stuffed, I wandered the streets for a moment, and located the main gay bar, Linga Bar, in the alley.  For those who don’t know, the linga are the phallic statues found in Hindu temples.  They symbolize fertility, and represent Shiva.  I appreciated their subtlety, since Hard Phallic Object Bar might have been a little over the top.  In passing by Linga Bar I also located the other two gays vacationing in Siem Reap.  Feeling that three of us together might have caused a spontaneous explosion of musical numbers, I decided to grab my bike and head back to Hanumanalaya.

Tired from my day, I crashed, failing to even get past the first page of “The Spiritual Brain,” my newest reading material.