Khmer Kaleidoscope - Walking With Angkor

Shifting quietly on my solid chair of dark wood, so as not to disturb my sleeping sister in the bed nearby, I find myself, yet again, mesmerised by the scene playing out below the wooden deck. The staff are wafting around the outdoor area, ensuring that everything is in its place. That everything is absolutely perfect. As always. Dedicated, passionate souls – each one of them. They move with grace, in and out of the main building, tending to chilled water jugs. Linen napkins positioned in exactly the right place, waiting for some hungry guest to unfold, before partaking of the feast to come.

Gentle perfumes suspended from the golden rays of dawn fill my senses with clarity. An abundance of tropical plants shroud the garden. The soil is rich. I can smell it. Fresh from last night’s rainstorm.

For a moment there, I shudder. A warmth fills my every cell. A sense of belonging. Complete gratitude engulfs me.  Gentle tears stain my cheeks. I am once again sitting on that chair. Once again my soul is resting on that exquisitely crafted balcony. Once again, I am finding absolute serenity and healing in this beautiful garden, as seen from what must be my favourite ‘home’ in the world. The Grand Old Khmer House. How is it possible that I am able to return to this mystical place – time and again.

As I let my thoughts wander, in a blissful state of calm, a gentle soul approaches the chair and carefully places a cup of coffee on the table beside me. “Enjoy it Miss Ingrid.” 

On this visit to Siem Reap, I love it even more. I belong even more. The energy of the simple town captivates me. Rejuvenates my body. My mind. My soul. I am happy when walking the streets, trying to absorb as much as possible, to later bury it deep within me – never to be lost. The strands of a history past embedded within the walls, penetrating deep, but no longer harmful.

I love cycling and getting covered in mud when trying to seek refuge from torrential rains. I love the earthy smell of that rain. I love seeing succulent green stems bowing under the weight of heavy raindrops. I love feeling more a part of nature than ever before. Siem Reap gives me this incredible offering.

Participating in a Nia retreat in such a splendid setting is a spiritual encounter in itself. To have the retreat led by the most capable and inspirational wellness success ‘story’ – my own daughter - takes the experience to a whole new level. These incredible retreats in Cambodia with Debbie leave me feeling whole, balanced and rejuvenated. Stronger in every sense of the word and equipped to take on the challenges to come.

During this particular retreat, those of us attending, shared a once-in-a-lifetime experience. One that not only enriched my life, but provided me with a deeper insight of what others hold sacred. It was an honour to witness what we saw that night.  Almost ethereal, the  opportunity left me thinking. Questioning.

The afternoon session ended with seventeen exhausted bodies lying in pools of sweat on the beautiful dark wooden floor of the outdoor Nia platform. The heavy raindrops, splashing down hard upon the floorboards, offered their joy of movement for us to share. We had worked hard. We had danced as though there was no tomorrow. The joy and laughter intermingled with tears. Happy tears for some. Healing tears for others. Small feet gently negotiated the spaces between our bodies, placing cool lemongrass-infused towels on the eyelids of the relaxing bodies. Small displays of love. 

Wearing the colour white as a sign of respect, we boarded a private bus heading to Angkor Wat. The excitement on that bus was tangible. We all felt as though we were about to partake in something very surreal. Something unique. Something deeply spiritual.

Usually, there is no access to Angkor after sunset. To enter the temple grounds after dark is a rare and unique gift. An aura of peace and gentleness embraced the temple complex. The light was golden as the sun gently kissed us goodnight. Shadows grew. Elegant and creating their own dance. Bidding farewell to the sun. The air was heavy with the aromas of distant wood fires and the burning of incense. 

Monks in saffron robes sat in rows upon the temple floor. Shrouded in absolute silence. Huddled together on the outer boundary of the temple, we sat in wonderment of the hundreds of people sitting united in silence. Each one clearly present and embracing a deep respect for oneness. Respect for higher powers – both human and spiritual. A time of togetherness. 

The chanting began. The hauntingly beautiful tones filled my cells, my body. My entire being experienced joy, warmth, belonging. The goose bumps along my arms and my back became almost unbearable. That cherished moment. To be there – experiencing what was no doubt, something utterly private and sacred– was an honour to say the least. It was also a time of deep reflection. A time to remind myself of the value of these humbling experiences.

 I looked across at Debbie, sitting there magnificent and proud, absorbing this magic. I looked at Karen, my sister, sitting so quietly and in awe of the scene before her. I was overcome by deep appreciation. My life. My family. The opportunity to be sharing this ceremony.

The Sacred Dancers of Banteay Srei, adorned in white robes of purity and fragrant flowers around their ankles, rose to their feet and moved like wisps of cloud. The magnificent display of fingers, each one in its own special position of worship. A religion. A dance. The Spirit of the ancient Khmer culture captured in perfect harmony between movement and prayer. Incense filled the temple. The dancers gave thanks to the gods as the gentle chanting of the monks began once more. The power of positive energies and love united, enveloping each one of us in that temple of Angkor Wat – on that full moon night when the skies opened up. 

Madame Ravynn is an amazing woman who held us captive at dinner one night with her stories of perseverence and of dreams achieved. She is the daughter of a Cambodian man and a Swiss mother. Madame Ravynn founded the Nginn Karet Foundation to provide aid and support to the poorest. In 2005 she was asked to teach the sacred traditional Cambodian dance to the children of the villages who have so little in life. Madame Ravynn gave them hope, love and the gift of purpose. 

The Preah Ream Buppha Devi Conservatoire was created in 2007. It provides financial support and training to over 176 children from remote villages. The dancing provides purpose and a tool needed to heal a violent past. The dancers dance in rivers, in temples and in the jungle. They meditate before each dance. Such beauty exits in the world today.

In Cambodia, dance is not only a form of entertainment. It has a far deeper meaning and purpose. It is sacred. It provides the channel to speak to the gods. It embodies culture, spirituality and dedication. To  personally witness this sacred dancing in Angkor Wat, was an experience I carry with me every day. It touched my soul.

Walking gingerly upon the rich, ochre-coloured soil, with only soft whispers between friends, we joined the masses in forming a ribbon of white. The reason for wearing the pure colour now evident. In front, the monks in their robes of saffron, deep red and mustard, proudly led the procession. In silence. In groups of four abreast, we followed, carrying candles. The ribbon of Man flowed along the narrow dirt roads, meandering gently around the bends. From our position somewhere in the middle, all that could be seen were hundreds of candles lighting the way. Humans swathed in ethereal light. Moving forward as one. To honour the ancestors on Pchum Ben – the Cambodian National Day. It was forty years since Cambodia fell to the Khmer Rouge. We walked that night in memory of those killed.

By now, it was dark. The thunder rolled. The heavens opened up. This was the signal for all to keep silent. It seemed as though we needed to hear the heaviness of raindrops falling on earth. Moments of cleansing. We treaded very carefully – barefoot - as this was a sacred ritual. In every person, I do believe we have the innate desire to be a child once more. This precious moment provided us the opportunity of finding the child within us. We squished our feet deeper into the thick, wonderfully slimy mud. At times, ankle-deep. Soft giggles erupted as we tried desperately to stay upright. Somehow the candles remained burning. The raindrops were heavy. A warm rain. Delicious in every sense of the word.

We slushed our way to the chosen temple. On either side of the tracks, the temples of Angkor watched over us. Nostalgic beauty exuding. The past making her presence known. Having those majestic temples quietly surrounding us, feeling the torrential rain soaking my skin and being at one with the candles and the monks, I felt that sense of belonging once more. I was experiencing the gift of Angkor at night. 

The monks filled the temple. The dancers encircled them. We respectfully filled the open sides. The moon made her entrance. She knew the value of her presence, thus adding an even deeper ethereal aura. Our eyes watered from the intensity of the smoke caused by burning incense. Glistening wet bodies and massive rain-soaked wooden beams were bathed in moonlight. More chanting resonated. Louder and louder. Drums joined – booming forth the power of rumbling sound. The rains fell harder. My tears fell softly.

A crescendo of human voices. The energy both vigorous and gentle.  On that hot summer’s night our emotions were taken to a new level. One on which I certainly experienced a greater sense of respect and love for the people of Cambodia.

Arriving back at Maison Polanka later that night, the drenched vegetation greeted us warmly. And there he stood in silence. My love. The Grand Old Khmer House looming in the background, watching over me and mine. 

The following day, the tall, elegant man with the beautiful face, standing upright and proud – hands clasped together in prayer – bid me farewell. I knew then that I will return to Cambodia. Time and time again.