Part way through the trip I started talking with a Buddhist Monk who was sitting on the seat in front of me. After chatting for a while he asked if I'd like to spend a night with him and his monks at his Temple an hour from Phnom Penh. He said he'd show me round and introduce me to his novices who'd appreciate someone to practice their English with.
After accepting the offer we got off the bus early and arrived at the Temple. I dropped off my bags in one of the buildings which was their sleeping quarters while passing a few monks on the way. They were trying not to stare, but would occasionally glance over and smile.
We then headed down to meet the 'Chief' Monk, or 'Head' Monk, I don't know what they call him... anyway, he was really old and we had to address him by kneeling down and praying three times. After which a nun (old, old lady) poured us a cup of tea and I sat and drank with him in silence as he spoke no English and my Khmer's a bit rubbish.
Before and after drinking tea with the chief we had to wash ourselves by scooping water from this massive ceramic pot and use it to clean our face and body. I later realised that this is how most Cambodians wash, and do so two or three times a day.
From there My Monk took me for a guided tour of the temple grounds. There were animals all throughout the area, I stood on a kitten at one stage. I wasn't allowed to enter the first building which was a dining hall where the Monks "eat rice" which is the literal translation for the Khmer term for eating a meal. But in their case it is literal as they do, only, eat rice... as well as a few vegetables.
The next visit was the main temple, it was big and beautifully decorated. Once inside we had to approach the statue of Buddha and again kneel down to pray three times. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling with bright paintings depicting different stories featuring mainly Buddha, but also Brama and Bramas, which according to My Monk weren't as cool as Buddha. Outside were two massive flagpoles that he called black-buddhism (don't ask me what that means) Lightning was starting to flash from all directions at this stage, and he explained that it would sometimes strike the flagpoles.
We wandered around the rest of the grounds where he showed me the nuns shacks, these were tiny rooms made from corrugated iron that sat upon stilts. The nuns would make rice in the morning and meditate in the afternoon. We had to be quiet as they were meditating as we walked past. Also around the outskirts of the grounds he showed me tombs which he called stoppers (I think to stop bad spirits from entering the grounds).
We wandered back to the temple where we were met with a moto (scooter) driver who had just come back from the markets where he'd been to buy me dinner. I ate the bag of beef skewers and coleslaw on the temple steps while monks started to gather round. It didn't seem quite right eating beef at a Buddhist temple...
We sat for a while and chatted in English, although the Monks were novices their ages ranged from what seemed to be 12 to 80. Some could speak a little English, while others none at all. They gave me a childrens learn-to-read book which we read together, I helped them with some pronounciation while they taught me some words in Khmer. Night started to fall as we were sitting there and I was really surprised when one of the monks pulled out his cellphone to light up the page, cellphones seem very un-monk like!
It became too dark to keep reading so we walked back to the sleeping quarters. The lightning was becoming more and more intense. It was surreal.
At the time I couldn't help myself from constantly saying "wow" to the flashes of lightning, and earlier I had been saying "wow" when My Monk was showing me the around the Temple. It was quite funny when the next day he would show something and ask "wow?"
My Monk described himself as'"My Monk" apparently his name was Mr Sella, but he always referred to himself as "My Monk"... I suppose it makes sense in a way but it confused the crap out of me as I originally thought he was referring to his novices, i.e. "My Monks". Or even at one stage I thought he was saying "My Mum". Got there in the end.
My Monk was generous enough to offer me his bed (solid wood) while he arranged a hammock beside it for himself. However, before blowing out the candles we were again visited by the group of novice monks. I was offered a coffee which I declined but later noticed a boy drinking his coffee, cold, from a bowl with a spoon... We discussed Cambodia and how it was so poor, what New Zealand was like, how much money i earnt a month! and a pile of other topics, the only topic that wasn't brought up was the country's history. They had a big book on Angkor Wat which one monk got me to read from, I think a few of the words may have been a bit too advanced for his English, such as "Neolithic". They were there for hours and only left when I finally laid down and closed my eyes.
We awoke around 6am with the everpresent monks making thier way into the room again. We bathed again, but this time with bottled water and went to meet his friend, the moto driver, for a tour around the province.
Our first stop was a couple of old Temples and schools where we met some of the locals, this was when he started asking: "Wow?" It was good to be away from the main roads as I could start to see the country and people as they are rather than stall after stall that you see on the main roads. One moto drived beside us with what must have been close to 100 dead chickens hanging upside down all round the scooter. I'm sure a couple were still alive too.
We then boarded a ferry which landed us on a rural island. My Monk bought me some orange beef jerkey on the ride and I noticed it was 'Red-Bull' branded ... I guess it's a by-product from the taurine they use.
The island was nice, it was a lot quieter than the mainland. Occasionally I would mention to My Monk that it was very peaceful and he would give me a strange look. I think he thought I was referring to peace as the opposite of war.
We visited a few temples, one with a massive reclining buddha inside which was amazing. I prayed to it again, but this time my back-pack kept hitting me on the back of the head which was annoying. We fed some giant cat-fish and I met an undertaker. At one stage I needed to take a piss, I did, but stayed as close to the road as possible as to avoid standing on one of the many landmines that are still sprinkled throughout the country.
On the way back to the temple we passed the scene of a crash where a lady was standing on the side of the road looking absolutely distraught. I didn't see what had happened but a lot of families ride together on their moto's (I've seen six people on one scooter!), usuallly the baby will sit at the very front. I hate to imagine who could have been hurt or killed in the crash.
The strangest thing of all would probably have been the Porsche Cayenne that drove by us on the island. I suppose it's the same in all poor countries but the disparity between rich and the poor is crazy, although the rich seem to be Chinese Cambodians rather than the Khmer.
Before being dropped off at Phnom Penh we stopped at the drivers house for tea. There were four or five children as well as two parents, a sister and grand-parents living in a tiny shack. We sat and watched a chinese super-hero soap opera on their TV that was running from car batteries. Although I did see the grandmother pick up a baby bottle from a dirty brown puddle and wash the crap off (in that same puddle) before putting it back on the table. That was a bit grose.
That was all.
