The End of tourism time

It is the end of sightseeing and on Monday we start at one of the schools.  Definitely feel we have ‘done’ Angkor Wat and a three day pass was plenty.  But I am so glad to have seen it.  I was worried about all the tourists (apparently more than 2 million a year) but we have got used to them clicking away, lenses everywhere, ducking every selfie.  I was wondering how many photo albums we will be in, unwittingly photobombing.  If you waited for everyone to take their photo here you’d wouldn’t get to see much.   Taran decided to stay in a hammock to read or maybe sneak in a round of Plant versus Zombies, which has been a favourite on all our long journeys.  The last temple was called  Banteay Samre and it was completely empty except for a friendly French couple that we had bumped into three times before that day.  And there was thunder and dramatic light.  A wonderful and memorable send off. 

We also walked up to Kbali Spean today to see the river engravings behind two bus loads of Indians, who struggled over rocks and tree roots in their beautiful saris ripping the silk.  They were slow and at times very ungracious about accepting there were other people climbing up this path but then I forgave them everything when they started singing Hindi songs around the engravings at the top.  They were on a pilgrimage and very happy to be there. 

In the evening we went out into the centre of Siem Reap, which transforms into packed, lit up, hectic but lively tourist town and is completely unrecognisable from the day.  We were searching for a place we liked for its Greek salads as we wanted a break from egg fried rice and fish amok.  Kelty staring at his map and me getting dazzled by the mayhem we both failed to hear Taran getting upset by seeing a man dragging himself along the ground without any legs, a land mine victim (of which there are so many here and still continue to be).  Taran said he had a basket attached to his neck for donations.  Kelty and I had missed all this with only the Greek salad in mind.  A ten year old can really put things into perspective and travelling with Taran’s eyes we have learned a lot.   We had failed to do anything for this man because he had gone.  We all felt bad and discussed at supper (of course over our delicious Greek salad) what would be the best thing to do for this man if we found him again, who clearly every day and night drags himself along the ground to find money.  We could give him money but then what?  Does he have friends?  Does he have family?  How does he get through every day?  It is too easy when travelling in these places to see these people as part of the scenery and walk on by but Taran’s comments will make me stop and think a bit more hopefully.

On a more up beat note today Taran bought some new sunglasses.