Step Onto My Elephant: Cambodia

There has been some confusion over what exactly the Cambodia trip was . . . and what exactly Cambodia is, so I’m here to straighten a couple things out.

Cambodia is a country west of Vietnam where some of the fighting in the Vietnam War took place. More relevant to my adventures there, though, it is home to the ancient Angkor ruins, which I will talk more about soon.

My trip to Cambodia took up my Vietnam time. Instead of spending 5 days here in Vietnam, I left on the second day, flew to Cambodia, stayed two nights at an (amazing!) hotel, and flew back to Vietnam on the third day. Just so you know, this blog only addresses the Angkor/Cambodia experience. The Vietnam goodies will be addressed later. Okay? Okay.

So here we go.

Travel with me . . .

                     . . . to Cambodia.

The trip starts on 50 minute plane ride over. You know the peanuts we get served on the U.S. flights? Ha! Forget that! We were served delicious sandwiches even though there was barely enough time to pass them out, eat them, and dispose of the trash. We were off to a good start.

I’m going to fast-forward a bit because I want to get to the good, important stuff. So here’s part of my Cambodia trip on hyper speed:

After flying over a freakin’ huge lake that we couldn’t really figure out if it’s a lake or something else (it was a lake) we land at an airport that looks like a Disney Land attraction. The buildings are small-ish with pointy roofs. I’m not very good at describing it, but this is the fast forward section, so I’m not going to stress too much about it. From there we took a bus to our hotel. Oh. My. Gosh. Nicest hotel I’ve ever seen, much less stayed at. Big, comfy beds; bathroom the size of my cabin; beautiful view; slippers and bathrobes. The works. So we drop off our stuff and then head down to the dining room for food. At the buffet I fill my plate then I go around the corner to sit down – only to realize I had only helped myself to a PORTION of the buffet and there was actually practically a whole other room full of food! Wow! So, obviously, I get some more food. Delicious – absolutely delicious.

Then we head out in a bus to the temples.

Do you remember how my South Africa blog was less what actually happened and more my thoughts on it? I’m going to transfer over to that. But I just realized that in order to do that and for you to realize the spiritual significance of the Angkor ruins to me, you need the background of my funk.

I don’t know why, but for a couple days leading up to Vietnam and even while I was IN Vietnam on the first day (which I’ll write about later), I was in a bit of a funk. I would move through the motions of the day without emotional investment, I was tired all the time, not very talkative, and mostly just wanted to sleep. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me, either, which was especially troubling. I’m a good problem solver. When there’s a problem, I can solve it. Or at least having a problem gives me something to work on. But I didn’t have a problem to that could be solved; I didn’t have any reason at all for being down. For some reason unbeknownst to me I had morphed from Tigger to Eyore, are I couldn’t change back. Kind of like (and forgive me for the analogy) when Jacob from Twilight morphed into a werewolf and then couldn’t morph back because he was so angry. . . or something like that, I don’t really remember.

Point being, I was in a funk and I couldn’t get out of it. So I decided to just accept it and wait it out.

I went into the Cambodia trip with that mentality. I don’t know how I could have ended up with a group of people that I didn’t know after all living on the same boat for three months, but that’s what happened. When we boarded the bus for the airport (at 0530. Ahh!) I noticed that I didn’t really know anybody. On top of that, I didn’t have the particular desire to meet anybody. I was fine with not having anyone on the trip; my funk left me a little anti-social. I decided that Cambodia would be my own personal adventure, and I asked God to be my travel buddy. I didn’t need or particularly want anybody else.

So at the airport when three other SAS kids run in late just before we board the plane. They had overslept, missed the bus, and caught a taxi to the airport. One of the girls personifies the USD stereotype, which I’m guessing means a lot more to me than it does to you. Let me put it this way: When I introduce myself, I say, “I’m from California but not San Diego.” On this boat, the USD stereotype is not particularly flattering. Anyways, here she was. She overslept and almost missed the flight but still found time to do hair and makeup before making her way to the airport.

But it didn’t matter that she and other people still drunk or hung over from the previous night were there, because I was traveling on my own. Maybe not physically on my own – I would have to share a bus with them – but this was my own adventure.

At least that’s what I thought.

And then at the hotel we got our room assignments. Guess who I was roomed with?

Yep. USD.

Great.

But I had already given control of this trip over to God, so I figured that if this is what he wanted (for some reason that I really didn’t understand), I would go along with it.

Much to my surprise, it ended up not being a problem at all. We actually got along quite well. I wouldn’t describe us as “friends,” but we are definitely compatible roommates, which is more than I expected. So even just in that interaction God pointed out how judgmental I had been.

(Wow, and now I’m putting my flaws up online for the world to see. Sometimes I forget that this is public . . . Oh well. I think the world would be a much better place if everyone stopped trying to pretend they were perfect. So there you are: Lila is flawed. Judgmental at times. Human. Shocker.)

I love it when God points out where I can live better for Him.

But back to the story. This is where I catch up to the story I had already started.

On the bus to the temples.

Driving on the bus, I’m absolutely blown away by the scenery outside. Picture lush, green beauty. Trees, bushes, grass. Everything was so green. It’s not where the “good cheese comes from happy cows, happy cows come from California” cows live. This is green grass interrupted by green trees obstructed by green bushes overgrown with green who knows what. The physical embodiment of the word “lush.” Beautiful.

So there I am, sitting by myself because I’m anti-social, looking out the window looking at the beautiful, green growth.

Then we pull into the first temple. Angkor is an ancient city, and Angkor Wat is just one of the temples within the city. Granted, Angkor Wat is a pretty big (500 acre) temple, but it’s still just one temple. We were at a different temple: Ta Prohm. Ta Prohm is the only one of the Angkor temples that has not been cleared of forestry and the plants that have grown over the temples. I didn’t really think much of that fact as we walked into the forest towards the temple, cicadas screeching in the background.

The trees impressed me. They reminded me of the trees in Spain that I couldn’t walk by without climbing. Except these trees were unclimbable (probably even for you, Stuart). The first branch started maybe 60 feet up where the tree exploded into a firework of greenery. Before I thought I wanted a Spanish tree to be planted in my honor if I died, but now I might be switching. These trees were incredible.

But then I saw the temple.

The intricately detailed temples were now falling apart. Trees grew on top of and in between them. The guide explained that the trees growing in and among the temples contributed to holding them together.

God couldn’t have whipped me out of my funk any faster.

Here were temples that, although may have looked more magnificent in their time, I thought could have looked no more beautiful. And it wasn’t the temples in and of themselves that were beautiful; it was the trees combined with the temples that produced such a heart-stopping scene. 

Here were temples that had been forgotten for hundreds of years. They had slowly been crumbling and breaking away. Their brokenness was not due to a bomb being dropped or some major event that caused their destruction. Their brokenness was the result of the simple wearing and weathering of time. It was a part of nature. Nothing lasts forever.

But in their brokenness, the trees came in. The trees brought life to structures that had been vacant and forgotten. The trees brought strength to weakness. They strong embrace of the roots held together what was crumbling apart. The massive trunks gave the temples a sturdy support to lean on. Because the temples were broken, they could be enhanced by the strength and wholeness of the trees.

I’m guessing you can see where I’m going with this.

I am those temples. I was broken, not for any particular reason. I was just tired and worn down. On top of that, I was frustrated with myself for being tired and worn down. I felt like it was wrong to be broken; like I should have been able to hold myself together. Like, since nothing bad actually happened, I wasn’t justified in my feelings and I was somehow failing by not having logical emotions.

But that’s not the case. The temples showed me that it’s okay to get worn down. It’s a part of nature. Being tired or broken does not mean I’m failing, and on top of that, it makes way for something greater than myself to come it.

God functions as my trees. When I am falling apart, His roots wrap me in a strong embrace to hold me together. His trunk gives me something to prop myself up on. He brings life to my vacancy and strength to my weakness.

And it is because I am weak that He is able to show His power and love. If the temples were able to hold themselves together, they wouldn’t need the trees. If I hadn’t been broken, I wouldn’t need God to hold me together.

And on top of that, the tree roots braided into the stones of the temple showed me how beautiful brokenness can be. I think our society (and I’m a perfect example of this) is scared of being broken. We always feel like we have to act like we are fine. Like we can hold our temple together ourselves.

But it’s okay to be broken.

It’s okay to need someone else to support you sometimes. It’s okay to reach out and depend on God or people in your life.

We shouldn’t be so scared of being weak, because only when we are weak do we give the great forces in our life the opportunity to show their magnificent power. And I think that power is beautiful.

So, like I said, that whipped me out of my funk pretty quickly. Suddenly I was a transformed person; back to being Tigger. Not that there’s anything wrong with being Eyore every once in awhile, but for me Tigger is a more natural state. And I was back.

The world was lighter, the people were nicer, and everything was even more enjoyable.

From Ta Prohm we went to Angkor Wat, which you may have seen in pictures. It was . . . huge. Surrounded by a moat and absolutely magnificent. No spiritual awakening here, but still incredible. We (yes, this was no longer a solo adventure for me) had fun exploring the temple. I really don’t know what else to say except that it was truly magnificent.

Then we went back to dinner with a culture show of dancing. This is the type of dancing with the girls whose fingers bend way back. Weird.

The next morning we’re up and at Angkor Wat before the sun poked its head out. And when it finally did poke its head out. . . wow. Incredible.

Sunrise at Angkor Wat. If you ever have the chance to see it, don’t miss it. We watched it from the reflecting pool, which reflected the entirety of the main structure along with the clouds painted a pinkish orange by the rising sun. It looked exactly like a watercolor that you would skip buying because it didn’t look realistic.

After sunrise we returned to the hotel for a huge buffet breakfast, and then we headed back out to visit more temples. We saw six different temples before lunch, each one (in my opinion) drastically different from each other. The first had lots of faces that faded into the rest of the temple. The second had. . .

. . . elephants! Live ones! Which I rode! Hurray!

And by “rode” I mean I rode them, fed them, hugged them, and played with them. Check that off the list of things to do in life.

To get onto the elephant you had to climb up these stairs spiraling up a tree to you get to a platform maybe twelve feet up. Then the elephant “pulls up” to the platform. There’s a guide on it sitting behind the ears of the elephant and a bench like thing behind the guide. Standing on the platform, I watched as the elephant and guide positioned themselves so we could climb onto the bench.

“Step onto my elephant.”

The words of the guide are going to stick with me for a very, very long time. When or where else will someone say that to me? I actually started laughing when he said it. And then I stepped on. I placed my foot firmly on the elephant’s back and pushed myself off the platform. Fully standing on the elephant, I turned and sat down. The ride was way more jerky than I imagined it would be. It was practically an ab workout just to keep myself steady. Forward, backward, forward, backward.

We circled one of the coolest temples. I’m excited to show you pictures. When the elephant deposited us back at the tree lined stairs, we climbed off, purchased a bushel of bananas for a dollar, and fed them all to the elephants. By the end, I was covered in elephant slobber. . . Or at least I hope it was slobber. I would much rather be covered in slobber than snot. It came from the trunk, but he was sticking his trunk in his mouth, so it really could be anybody’s guess. . . I’m sticking with slobber.

A couple more temples and then luch. By then a lot of people were “templed out.” Mainly the same group that was still drunk/hung over the previous morning. So instead of returning to the temples in the afternoon, they went back to the hotel for drinks, massages, and pool time. Our smaller group returned to the temples.

I love those temples.

Now with a smaller group, all of whom really wanted to be there, the temples were even MORE fun. The first one we could climb to the top of, where we imitated statues of lions and such that had long sense crumbled away. The next one we (very respectfully) took pictures on top of the 1,000 year-old elephant statues. I have to take credit for being the one to figure out a way to climb on them. =-) Then we went to one that was surrounded by swamp overgrowth, which was really cool. And the next was one in the middle of this big body of water that we had to walk on propped up planks only a bit wider by 2x4’s to get out to. And finally there was one more that had some of the same elements of the first one overgrown with trees, but this one wasn’t as green and didn’t have nearly as many. It was definitely a different feel. Less magical and more . . . fun, I guess is the word. But maybe that’s just because we were all in a silly picture mood.

And that was it for the temples. We went back to the hotel, hit the buffet line (oh my gosh! So good!) and then headed out to the night market. The market was fun: shops and such. Nothing that unusual or worth going into detail about, especially since I have more still to talk about.

In the morning we headed out to Tonle Sap Lake where we boarded a small boat to take us to see the lake village. Obviously I immediately notice that the top of the boat was really flat and looked like exactly where I wanted to be. Within minutes of the boat pushing off from the dock, that’s exactly where I was.

It was literally a floating village. Like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Schools, markets, houses. . .  all floating! There was some bushes and greenery, but there definitely wasn’t any land. And they weren’t like the house boats you see in the US. Floating shacks might be a more accurate term. And everyone was moving from place to place in smaller, more adaptable boats, some filled with food or fish or other goods.

It was so cool!

I can’t wait to show you pictures!

Then we went back to the hotel, got checked out, and headed home.

      . . . uhh, by home I mean the ship. 

I love Cambodia.