Cambodia 2011 Peace Project Event (Part1 The Story)

PREVI HEAR JOURNAL 2011 ! The Peace Project
PREVI HEAR JOURNAL 2011 ! The Peace Project
axis facing the plains to
the North, from which
it is now cut off by the
international border. It
consists essentially of
a causeway and steps
rising up the hill towards
the sanctuary, which
sits on the cliff-top at
the southern end of the
complex (120 m/ 390
ft above the northern
end of the complex, 525
m/1,722 ft above the
Cambodian plain and 625
m/2,051 ft above sea level).
Although this structure
is very different from the
temple mountains found
at Angkor, it serves the
same purpose as a stylized
representation of Mount
Meru, the home of the
gods. The approach to the
sanctuary is punctuated
by five gopuras. (These are
conventionally numbered
from the sanctuary
outwards, so gopura five
is the first to be reached
by visitors). Each of
the gopuras before the
courtyards is reached
by a set of steps, and so
marks a change in height
which increases their
affect. The gopuras also
block a visitor's view of the
next part of the temple
until they pass through
the gateway, making it
impossible to see the
complex as a whole from
any one point.The fifth
gopura, in the Koh Ker
style, retains traces of the
red paint with which it was
once decorated, although
the tiled roof has now
disappeared. The fourth
gopura is later, from the
Khleang/Baphuon periods,
and has on its southern
outer pediment. The third
is the largest, and is also
flanked by two halls. The
sanctuary is reached
through two successive
courtyards, in the outer of
which are two libraries.’
It’s a heavy, exhausting
walk and the guys
words just go in one
ear and out the other.
Luckily Mao is holding a
dictaphone so that is why
I am transcribing it this
evening.
As I walk up I realize
one depressing fact. Our
traveling time is going
to eat into everything.
We can’t sleep on the
mountain. TAnd now they
are not letting us in any
case. We are going to have
to travel each day from
Sra ‘Aem to this site. First
by motorcycle for thirty
kilometers, then twenty
by open-top truck, then
another half-hour trip
climbing the mountain
on foot, then a crawl, then
we have to set the easel,
paints and painting up -
everything. It’s going to
be a “NIGHTMARE.” Forty
minutes, then ten minutes,
then another forty
minutes, then thirty
minutes, and then ten
minutes. I don’t want to
do the math. But I do. It
amounts to one hundred
and thirty minutes one
way. Thats two-hours-andten
minutes traveling one
way and so it will be four
hours a day. Fuck!
Here we are at last. I’m
looking at the sight of
area where we will put the
intended picture. It’s a lawn
. We are seven-eighths of
the way up to the main
temple.
I exclaim, ‘This is where
it should be! Perfect.’
The site is a lawn
sandwiched between the
first and second gopuras.
‘ So we are close to
heaven but not there yet!’
Mao says. I laugh! We move
the wood and easels into
the centre of the field which
Mao has assembled there
two days ago. I decide and
shout to the others,
‘This will be base camp.’
I want to film us
discovering the site when
it is virgin and direct the
two camera operators,
Sambo and Sopert, to
point the cameras, as we
descend a set of steps at the
fourth Gopura. As they do
this, a man with a sloppy
linen hat, dressed in an
ill fitting black suite and a
goofy smile is sitting cross-legged on the
sixth step of a stair case leading up top
the first Gopura watching us. He smiles
sheepishly.and watches our antics.
I think, ‘ He looks like ‘a kind of ‘ tourist.
Maybe he is impersonating one.’ At first I
ignore him, but at the same time he was
there in the
periphery of my vision, but our focus
was on doing an arrival. I can see he has
an old Kodak camera hanging from his
neck on a leather strap.
I have stopped thinking about the
strange tourist watching us and instead
we begin to reassemble the easels and pin
the image of the Buddha to the wooden
easel with a staple gun. I have already
sketched it with my helper in Laos five
weeks before. We prepare the wood for
painting and then search for the place to
erect the painting. We realize we need to
find someone to act as a security guard.
At this point the ill-fitting black suited
tourist walks over.
Without introducing himself, he
explains,
‘I am the security on the mountain .
The group and you two must stop what
your are doing and put your cameras
away immediately.’
He then adds, ‘I have telephoned my
superior. He will be here in a few hours.’
(By the way, this was being translated
by Sokkheng for me.)
I think to myself,
‘I guess these guys are like police
man and parking inspectors combined.
This is is his big moment to enforce the
law.’
We discover later that his name is
Mr Vanna. He has stopped us from
painting. He has called to ask his boss
what to do ands his boss will come.
Mr Vanna, after stopping us from
painting, he telephones to his superior.
Mr Banna then turns to Sokkheng who
has become the official translator of
thje crew, ‘He is now walking up the hill
towards us and in half an hour will be
here to give us his explanation. It will
take him only a brief amount of time to
get there. ‘
Half an hour later a middle-aged man
with brown sandals, dirty reflecting
sunglasses and a pale blue shirt arrives
half-an-hour later, huffing and puffing.
It takes him a while to get his breath
back and has to sit down on the grass.
It is a tense moment and the boys
look on with a mixture of anxiety and