ANDYBROUWER.CO.UK
CAMBODIA TALES 1999
The temples of Battambang
Leaving Siem Reap is always a wrench but
after a week's exploration, I was keen to discover in person what
Battambang had to offer, aware that only a trickle of tourists
had so far bothered with Cambodia's second city. With a wealth of
Angkorean ruins in easy reach, a still-visible colonial past and
the slow pace of life along the banks of the Sangke river,
Battambang was to be my base for the next three days before
returning to Phnom Penh.
The fifty-seater speedboat left
the Chrong Kniesh fishing village at the foot of Phnom Krom at a
little after 7am and sped across the open expanse of the Tonle
Sap lake with twenty passengers on board, the majority of whom
sat on top of the boat to enjoy the view. Once across the lake
and into a labyrinth of river estuaries, we dropped off and
picked up a couple of passengers until our path was
clogged with weeds and we were forced to find an alternative
route. Stopping to ask directions, the boat pilot eventually got
us back on track and we joined the Sangke river, with
stilt-houses and waving, half-naked children lining the
riverbank, arriving at the northern end of the city just after
midday. The usual three hour boat trip, which had cost $15, had
taken five hours.
Ob Philay, my motodub for the next
three days, drove us to the Teo Hotel, my choice at $10 per night
with air-con and en suite facilities. An hour later, we followed
the Sangke river north out of the city before veering off
alongside a much smaller
tributary, passing through small shady hamlets and ten kilometres
later, we reached the 11th century temple ruin of Ek Phnom. Under
an overcast sky, five cheeky young boys dogged our path as we
explored the ruins - two raised sandstone sanctuaries with a few
carved lintels of good quality still in situ and surrounded by a
laterite wall and a moat. As we rested, Philay took the
opportunity to tell me about himself - he was 44 years old,
married with two children and was a former military policeman in
Phnom Penh, who'd vacated his job quickly in the bloody aftermath
of the 1997 coup - before we moved onto look at the wall murals
in the modern wat next to the ruins. To round off the afternoon,
a leisurely ride back to the city was
punctuated by
short stops at pagodas along the route including the modern wats
of Peamek, Kdol, Slaket (where I had a long conversation with a
nun, translated by Philay of course), Ruol Daun and Piphit. A
walk around the central covered market, a quick stop at Wat
Damrei Sar and then a stroll along the riverfront at dusk
preceded an evening meal back at the hotel.
Day two in Battambang began with
an 8am start as Philay and I headed out along Route 10, the road
which ends at the former Khmer Rouge stronghold of Pailin. Large
trucks and pick-ups kicked up blinding dust as we drove past the
Phnom Sampeou and Kamping Puoy (a large man-made reservoir popular with locals)
turn-offs, after which the road deteriorated into a series of
bone-shaking potholes and craters. Nearly thirty kilometres from
Battambang, we reached the village of Snoeung, where a solitary
sandstone temple (Wat Snoeung West) stands to the side of the
main highway. The sanctuary, built in the late 12th century, has
three elaborately carved lintels of exceptional quality. In the
shadow of the adjoining modern wat, three large crumbling brick
towers form Wat Snoeung East, open to the elements, with one
carved lintel and decorated pillars at the entrance to the middle
tower.
Retracing our steps back to Sampeou
village, a right fork along a sealed road took us to the foot of
Phnom Sampeou ('ship mountain') and a flight of 700 steps,
winding their way to the top of this rocky outcrop. A strategic
battleground between Khmer Rouge and government forces for much
of the past decade, the hill has a series of cave grottoes to
explore, lined with Buddhist shrines and statues - a 200 riel
note bought me a candle from an obliging nun in the absence of a
torchlight - before more stairs took us to the main temple
complex at the peak. The view over the surrounding countryside
was quite breathtaking and Philay pointed
out two
nearby hills, Phnom Krapeu ('crocodile mountain') and Phnon
Banan, our next destination. The modern wat housed colourful wall
paintings depicting the life of Buddha, a host of statues and
half a dozen friendly monks. Nearby, a large stupa was guarded by
a disused artillery field-gun, allegedly surrounded by landmines.
Philay confided that he'd worked
in the fields at the foot of Phnom Sampeou during the 'Pol Pot
time' after his father (an army colonel) and mother (a teacher)
had been taken away and never seen again. Poignantly, he
suggested we follow a rocky trail through bushy undergrowth to
see a permanent reminder of the atrocities committed by the Khmer
Rouge on another part of the hill. Ten minutes later, we reached
a small wat, which he explained had been used as a prison and
torture centre in the late 1970s. Nearby, a staircase led down to
an underground cave where a small wooden platform contained a
pile of human remains, victims of the Khmer Rouge who'd been
pushed to their deaths from the cave's skylight high above us.
Next to the platform was a brightly painted six metre reclining
Buddha. Another path took us to a smaller cave which housed a
substantial collection of skulls, bones and clothes in a
makeshift memorial. This led onto more subterranean caves which
Philay assured me contained poisonous snakes at the very least.
Our route off the hill was via a gently sloping rocky track, at
the bottom of which we stopped for refreshing coconut milk, met
some playful children and had a chat with some workmen preparing
to carry wooden telegraph poles, by hand, up the 700 steps - a
daunting prospect.
Leaving Phnom
Sampeou behind us, a straight road built by locals working for a
World Food Program 'Food for Work' project took us back in the
direction of the Sangke river. Passing a couple of small
villages, with stilt-houses on either side of a more-typical
bumpy unsealed road, we moto'd through the grounds of an
abandoned school to the foot of Phnom Banan, some 25 kms from the
city. A steep 150 metre laterite staircase, with decorated naga
heads and broken lion statues lying in the grass nearby, led to
the 12th century temple on top of the hill. I was accompanied on
the climb by Poly and Seun, two local teenagers keen to practice
their English, learnt at the pagoda school nearby. At the summit,
five laterite and sandstone towers, in varying stages of ruin,
make an impressive sight, as does the view from the hill-top. A
couple of towers were surrounded by thick vegetation and were
difficult to visit, whilst the central shrine housed a batch of
modern statues and broken linga pedestals. Sandstone lintels
above the doorways to this tower were in good shape, although the
beheaded apsaras on the walls had fared less well. A camouflaged
artillery gun reminded me that Phnom Banan too, had been on the
frontline of the civil war for many years. It was a bumpy ride
back to Battambang,
running parallel to the Sangke river for
much of the way and passing through a host of small rural
villages.
Back in the city centre by 2.30pm,
Philay dropped me off at the provincial museum on the waterfront.
I toured an exhibition of photographs which occupied one building
and admired five intricately carved lintels surrounding a second
building next door. This allegedly contained a collection of
statues and carvings but the Museum Director had gone to Phnom
Penh and taken the only key! Well, this is Cambodia
afterall. A quick visit to the busy market area and a leisurely
stroll around the city's streets allowed me to photograph some of
the faded ocre and yellow buildings, with blue wooden window
shutters and wrought-iron balconies, a lasting reminder of the
city's colonial past as a French Protectorate.
Determined to make the most of my
time in Battambang, Philay and I set off at 8am on my third
day in the city with Wat Bassaet as our main objective. This 11th
century temple is located some twenty kilometres northeast of the
city centre, as we crossed the narrow bridge over the Sangke
river and out along Route 5, the main road to Phnom Penh. The
Govenor's Mansion and the towering ten metre tall golden kneeling
figure of King Kron Nhong and his magic staff (legend has it that
he threw the wooden staff from Angkor and where it landed is now
present day Battambang = 'lost staff') merited photo-stops until
after a few kilometres we took a left turn along a shaded road in
good condition, running alongside a small creek with wooden
houses and no motorized traffic to speak of. After an hour and a
brief stop at the main wat in the village of Tapon, we reached
the ruined temple of Wat Bassaet, quietly nestled next
to a banana
grove in the grounds of a nunnery.
As at all the Angkorean sites near
Battambang, I was the only tourist in the vicinity. In fact,
during my time in the city, I did not see another obvious tourist
or traveller, only westerners working for the numerous NGOs that
frequent Cambodia's second city, and missionaries.
Wat Bassaet has two main sanctuaries, both in a ruined state with
one in imminent danger of collapse. Sandstone blocks and lintels
lie haphazardly in the bush and the remaining lintels and
frontons still in situ, showing carved Rahu monsters, have been
painted blue and yellow by the local monks. A laterite pool full
of slimy green water was a stone's throw away, as was a series of
sandstone pillars, windows and carved blocks, lying scattered
throughout the grounds of the nunnery, their living quarters and
meditation area. We left after nearly an hour to return to the
city by an alternative route, retracing our steps to Tapon
village and then onto Norea, where we stopped to inspect a giant
seated Buddha just off the main road. The remainder of the
journey was along unsealed and bumpy roads, past farmers
harvesting rice in the fields and semi-naked men fishing in the
roadside ponds.
For the second half of the journey, we
moto'd alongside the muddy brown Sangke river and stopped at
various modern wats en route. These included Wat Balat, Sophy, Po
Khnong and Po Veal, where a small museum was closed for
renovation and a group of young monks were fixing an awning and
microphone system ready for a party later that day. At the next
two stops, Wat Kandal and the colourful Wat Sangker, I was
quizzed at length by two friendly young monks eager to practice
their remarkably good English on me. The usual questions about my
age, nationality, job, marital status, reason for coming to
Cambodia, etc were quickly exhausted before we moved onto
discussing a myriad of other topics, like Christianity, Buddhism,
Angkor, NGOs, girlfriends, music and even football. Thirsty after
so much talking, I accepted an offer of tea but politely declined
to share their food. Instead, I parted company with Philay and
walked
back across the river to the market area.
The Heng Lim, yesterday's eatery, was closed so I chose an
un-named restaurant near the Paradise nightclub for some late
lunch and later, an evening stroll amongst the busy stalls,
drink-stands and makeshift cafes set up along the riverfront.
I flew back to Phnom Penh in the middle of the following afternoon. I'd been due to leave on the 8.20am RAC flight but was informed on arrival at Veal Baek Chan airport that it had been delayed until later that same afternoon, time of departure unknown. To fill in the time, Philay took me on a ride around the city, I visited the market again where I encountered a handful of amputee beggars for the first time, and returned to my comfortable room at the Teo Hotel, where the Manager, Pheng kindly allowed me access to my old room to rest and snooze. Refreshed and well-fed, the 3.40pm flight, with eleven passengers, two cabin crew and two pilots, lasted forty-five minutes before we touched down at the capital's Pochentong Airport.
Click here to view more photographs of the ancient temples of Battambang.
My travelogue from a return visit to Battambang in 2000 can be read here.
Cambodia Tales : Messageboard : Next : E-mail
The contents of this website cannot be reproduced or copied without permission of the site author. © Andy Brouwer 2005