Cambodian Temple Architecture For Dummies

Cambodian temples tend to be built in concentric squares. You have a moat, an outer wall with a gate, then internal "galleries" (roofs with columns supporting them), and then temples in the middle.

Angkor Wat layout/floorplan, image from Wikimedia Commons

The isolated buildings on the left are referred to today as "libraries." I may or may not have get around to writing about them some other time. Everything between the outermost wall and the edge of the image is a moat, by which I mean an actual water-filled moat, not the dry ditch common in European castles:

Angkor Wat from the ground, our photo

Angkor Wat from the air; again, thanks to Wikimedia Commons. See why we opposed SOPA/PIPA?

Khmer architects dug moats not for defense against attackers, but from defense against nature. In Cambodia, you have a rainy season so intense that Tonle Sap lake, the largest freshwater lake in Asia, goes from ~2,700 square kilometers and 1 meter deep to ~16,000 square kilometers and 9 meters deep. That's 141,300 cubic meters of water, or basically adding Lake Ontario.

So the moats get dug up for two reasons: one, you move the land you dug up into the middle, to support the weight of the huge temple you're about to build. Otherwise, the thing will sink into the ground under its own weight. Second, the moat provides a drainage location for the huge amounts of rain which come down during the monsoon season. They may also have theological significance, as many temples reference the Hindu myth of the churning of the ocean of milk. I have this idea that the conversation between the kings and their designers went something like this:

Architect: Which story would you like for this first temple, sir?
King: ... What about that ocean of milk story? That's a good one.
Architect: Very good, Your Majesty. And the temple to honor your parents?
King: You know, I've always been fond of that churning story.
Architect: I see. Well, we can do that. Have you thought at all about your mausoleum temple?
King: (thoughtful pause) The ocean of milk?

Moat outside Bayon Temple, and creatively frustrated architect.

According to our guide, the reason that there are so many temples in Cambodia was that basically every time the king changed, the new king had to build a whole new capital with its own set of temples. So my guess is some of the early temples actually did sink, and that's how they learned what not to do. Reminds me of the point my high school US history teacher made, that by the time of the Constitutional Convention. the US delegates had written multiple constitutions for each of the original 13 states and also national constitutions. They were the world's leading experts on Constitution writing. Same with Khmer architects and swamp temples.

The concentric squares shown in the Angkor Wat drawing are like layers of a layer cake. As you go up, you go up to the surface only; There is no "inside" of the buildings (like an Egyptian pyramid). The middle section of the cake is just cake. If you hollowed out the supporting ground (the cake part) and filled it with, say, Mystical Treasure Traps, or Tunnels o' Death, the cake would collapse in on itself due to the weight of the cake topper. (So yes, Eddie Izzard fans, it does all boil down to cake or death.)


The inside of the temple structures are often different from the outside in one way, which is in materials. To go back to the cake-and-frosting metaphor (am I hungry or what?) the cake is a substance called "laterite," which is essentially clay which bakes into a hard stone brick when exposed to air. It is porous, cheap, and locally available, just what you want for the bulk of your construction. The porousness helps with the drainage, as water seeps into the stone, down through the building, and out into the moat.

Laterite (spongy-looking rock to the right of the door)

Laterite used as interior, visible behind sandstone

But laterite, like cake, has no nice surface. Imagine making frosting roses out of cake itself - it would crumble. (Many older, smaller temples were just made out of brick, which has the same advantages of laterite but is better for smaller buildings. It has the same disadvantage of being very difficult to carve).

Which did not stop them from trying.

So detailed carvings had to be made out of something different different. Early on, that choice was stucco, which was plastered over the brick or laterite and then carved:

Lolei Temple

Stucco, brick, and Justin.

Later, sandstone came into use. Sandstone comes in many beautiful natural colors:



Which can be used to decorative effect:

It is also comes from very far away, and is very heavy. Chhaiy told us that the most popular method was to ship it on bamboo rafts in the rainy season, but it could also be loaded and moved via elephant.

There is one final danger with sandstone: the carving may be so precise and detailed that it seems real.

 

One of these photos is not of sandstone. Can you tell which?

Puttering around Siem Reap: Institute for Khmer Traditional Textiles

Poor Justin has either caught whatever I had in Fukuoka, or has started from scratch with something indigenous.

If we had read our Cambodian fortunes, we would have seen this coming.

Fortunately, we had set up our schedule to have some days off, and we moved one of them to today to allow him to rest. There are two bad things about Justin being sick. The first is that Justin is sick, and that sucks. The second is that without somebody paying attention, this is what I eat for lunch:

Fried bananas and vanilla ice cream. Indescribably good.

We've loved our hotel here (the Bunwin Boutique Hotel), not in the least because it has its own tuk-tuks (little carts pulled by motor scooters) and they provide you with a cell phone so you can call the hotel to be picked up or dropped off anywhere you like for free. We took motorcycle taxis around the Philippines but it always feels awkward, because I hate worrying about the price and haggling and wondering if I'm actually being taken where I want to go. Without the Bunwin tuk-tuks, I probably would have sat around the hotel all day. I'm not that confident going around by myself - I'm still not entirely convinced I'm an adult who should be let out on her own, and I'm always shocked when school trips come around and I'm the chaperone. So it was kind of a big deal for me to strike out on my own without Justin.

I went to the Institute for Khmer Traditional Textiles here in Siem Reap. The institute, like many Cambodian buildings, is a second-story only built up on stilts. The ground floor is really just a shadowed portico. That's where the workshop is; upstairs is a shop. There isn't a tour guide or anything, but you can read about the process and they have a DVD in English and Japanese.

The mission of IKTT is to preserve and grow the knowledge of Khmer textiles, which was nearly wiped out in the Cambodian Civil War and subsequent genocide. Permit me a history teacher detour for a moment (and my genuine apologies for the fact that this topic deserves more detail). Cambodia was part of the French colony of Indochina before World War II. Japan took over Cambodia during the war and put the monarch, Norodom Sihanouk, back on the throne. The king held on until 1970, when he was deposed by a military coup. To make matters worse, the US was bombing Cambodia as part of the Vietnam War. Within Cambodia, civil war broke out between rightist forces and the Communist Khmer Rouge, which took power in 1975. The Khmer Rouge and its infamous leader Pol Pot immediately set about trying to make everybody miss the good old days of civil war and bombing by instituting what is now called the Cambodian Genocide.

I am not going to be able to do the subject justice in this post, but the basics are as follows. Approximately 1 out of 5 Cambodians (somewhere in the area of 1.7 million) died in the Genocide (the notorious Cambodian Killing Fields are Cambodia's second most visited attraction, after Angkor Wat). You can see this impact statistically on the population pyramids of Cambodia - watch for the devastated red birth cohort of the 1975-9 period.  Main motivating factors appear to have been Communist ideology (targeting urbanites, religious people, intellectuals, etc) and nationalism (targeting ethnic minorities). For more information, I suggest the Yale Cambodian Genocide Program web site.

Vietnam invaded and occupied Cambodia in 1979. Eventually, under the UN, Cambodia negotiated its way to elections. To return to textiles, UNESCO brought a Japanese silk expert named Kikuo Morimoto to Cambodia to find out what, if anything, had survived of the traditional Khmer textile industry. The answer was not much. The Khmer Rouge had destroyed silk-weaving equipment and forbidden the teaching of techniques. Famine and displacement had devastated the trees and other natural infrastructure. Morimoto was able to identify a few very senior senior citizens. He began building on this knowledge, supporting apprenticeships by younger women and, a few years ago, buying land outside of Siem Reap for a village and farm complex to sustain silkworms and the plants which provide natural dyes. Today, IKTT employs nearly 500 Cambodians at various stages of the silk production process, and maintains good fair trade standards. Mothers are allowed to bring their children to the workshop - I saw a lot of kids running around or napping in hammocks while their mothers spun silk.

Here you can see the raw silk. Cocoons on the left, finished silk on top, and on the bottom, the raw gold silk which has not yet had the protein outer layer stripped off. It feels crunchy, like horsehair, while the ivory-colored finished silk is smooth as... yeah. You know.

Top: Dyed yellow from a plant called Prohut; bottom: dyed brownish pink via coconut

Red and purple come from the nests of the Lac insect

The grand product of IKTT is Cambodian ikat. Instead of these single-color threads, ikat involves dying a white thread multiple times to create a pattern on the thread itself. Basically, the threads are tied with bits of banana leaf, which cover up parts of the thread and keep them white. You dye in a certain order, retying banana leaf as necessary, until the thread is colored in such a way that it will produce a pattern upon weaving. The complexity and mathematics of this are mind-boggling.

White silk with banana ties

Multicolored threads being woven on a loom

 As you might guess, the products in the upstairs shop are amazing but priced to reflect this process. An ikat scarf is in the US $50+ range, while some exquisite wall hangings are priced upwards of $500. You can find cheaper items in monochrome or in handkerchief size.

So do I recommend a visit to IKTT? For two types of people: people who like to know about hand-production of textiles, and people who would like to own spectacular examples of hand-produced textiles. Since neither of these is Justin, it's just as well I went without him.

Please wish Justin a speedy recovery, as we have more temples we hope to see tomorrow!

Sunrise at Angkor Wat

Justin and I got up early this morning to go to Angkor Wat to watch the sun rise over the temples. Cambodia time is two hours behind Japan, so getting up at 4:30 AM (6:30 AM Japan time) wasn't exactly a dream, but for one of the great sights in UNESCO World Heritage, it was totally worth it.

We decided to go with a guide here, and it was definitely the right decision. Our guide Chheiy (I feel bad that I'm probably spelling it wrong; it's pronounced "Chai") picked us up at the hotel with a van at 5 AM and we drove out to the temple complex. Angkor Wat has five towers: imagine a square, with a tower in the center, and another tower on each of the four corners. From the front, it looks like there are only three towers. This is the view shown on the Cambodian flag. (Cambodia, for trivia buffs, is the only county to feature a building on its national flag).

Angkor Wat

However, there is a spot from the moat around Angkor where you can force perspective such that you see all five of the towers. This is where we went with our guide. Cambodians are enterprising, and local merchants had set down mats right along the waterline and reserved them for people who bought drinks from them. I felt like getting cheap and staying where we were, but fortunately Justin decided that $5 was worth it. We ended up with a spectacular spot right on the water, where nobody could get in front of us and mess up our photographs of the reflections, which is great, when you take a look at what would have been between us and the water if we'd stayed where we were:

Pictured: Every tourist in Siem Reap

So here's a time-lapse of our morning experience. First, it was dark. (This is to be expected). The bright-ish dot right over the temple is a beautiful crescent moon. 

The sun started creeping up over the horizon between 5:30 and 6 AM.

This picture is dorky, but it is evidence that we were there.

It was a long wait for the full sunrise but sometimes I think that's good for you. Angkor Wat has been around for eight hundred years. It was probably appropriate for me to sit for an hour. Plus, we got to watch little frogs and bugs bumbling about. Who needs television?

If you look closely, you can see a dragonfly in the foreground.

And then it happened!

Wait for it.... (Hum Also Sprach Zarathustra if it helps)

bum.... Bummm.... BUMMMMMMMMM!!!!

On the main causeway, we were able to squeeze in a couple of pictures of the sunrise alignment. See, Angkor Wat was built so that the sun would come right up the side of that main temple on the spring equinox. And through a brilliant and complete lack of planning, Justin and I were here on the spring equinox. Look at that sun go!

I think it rests on the exact tip of the temple after it rises a bit more, but I only learned that when I came home now. Plus, photographing the sun was starting to burn out my eyeballs, so maybe it's just as well we didn't stay and end up like Galileo.

Sunrise over Angkor Wat temple... that's one more thing off the bucket list!

Happy Birthday from Siem Reap!

Today was my (Nana's) dad's birthday. Since I couldn't be there to celebrate, I thought I'd send a little message from Cambodia. I'm standing at Lolei temple in the Rolous group, in front of a nice temple built by the king for his father. If you're keeping score, this was built around 892. If your offspring is the king, you get temples that last 1,200 years. If your offspring is the history teacher, you get a goofy photo.

But Cambodia, it turns out, is a pretty friendly place. Throughout the course of the day, I met many locals, all of whom wanted to join in wishing Dad the best. Here, for instance, are some well-wishes from a lion statue guarding Lolei.

Nandi, the bull, is the faithful steed of the Hindu god Shiva. He also wishes Dad happy birthday.

As do all nine heads of the snake god Naga.

This fish lives in a koi pond at the Butterfly Garden restaurant. He sends his best.

By afternoon, word of this auspicious day had spread to Angkor Thom, the big walled city. The causeway into the city is flanked by demons and gods tugging on the body of a snake, as part of the Hindu story in which they "churned the ocean of milk" to produce the "nectar of immortality." I'm not totally sure how that worked, but they were very busy, so it was awfully nice of them to take a moment out of churning to send birthday greetings.

Demons

Gods.

That's some nice churnin' there, boys.

Angkor Thom is famous as the home of dozens of towers of four-faced statues, which could represent the four faces of the Hindu god Brahma, or also the Four Noble Truths of Buddhist thinking. The king who constructed it was playing it safe and not taking sides, theologically. When we took this picture, a neighboring tour guide nodded thoughtfully and said, "This is a happy smiling statue for your father's birthday. Your father will certainly have good fortune."

Both the Hindus and Buddhists could agree on Dad's birthday.

On the Terrace of the Gods, unfortunately, Indra, the King of the Gods, couldn't make it, but he had his three-headed elephant Erawan bring a note.

A dancing Apsara, or Hindu/Buddhist angel/nymph, gave a special performance for the occasion.

The king and his concubines appreciated the excuse to party.

And last but not least, the crab says hi.

So there you have it, Dad: a birthday widely celebrated. Hope it was a great one!

Welcome to Siem Reap!

After a long day of travel capped with a breezy night-time tuk-tuk ride across town, Nana and I have arrived at our hotel in Siem Reap.

Bonus: a gecko in our room to keep us company at night! Go, little gecko! Eat every bug you see!

(PS: Didn't publish last night for some reason. Let's try again!)

Busan - Busan Until The End of Time

Hour three. What little sense of self I had to begin with has been replaced with a volatile mix of K-pop and processed cheese food. Having found no sustenance in this God-forsaken desert, I have resigned myself to walking the terminal until the heat death of the universe, or until our flight to Siem Reap departs. Whichever comes first.

The man at the top of the jetway had offered us a devil's bargain: leave the airport, strike our for downtown Busan, and come right back as soon as we'd arrived, or set up camp in the terminal for the next several millennia. Posterity will no doubt know by now the sorry course we chose.

I would tell you precisely when the nameless man approached us with the offer of a sandwich - a crustless square of white bread enclosing two limp leaves of lettuce, cheese food, and a thin slice of Spam - but already time had lost all meaning. The look in the man's eyes was almost apologetic, as if he had looked into our futures and knew full well what lay ahead.

There was nothing for us but to eat, and nap, and walk the terminal, wondering how things had come to this. How, in the course of human history, had such a thing become possible? An airport terminal without a restaurant? With two acres of duty-free shopping, but nary a bookstore in sight? Such is the curse of modern living: bearing the weight of history's mistakes on our backs. In the meantime, there is nothing but waiting, and hunger, and the pop stylings of BigBang fading into static in the recesses of our minds.

(Still, seven hours in the Busan airport - well worth the money we saved on our flight.)

National Branding

Yesterday was my first sick day in 3.5 years of teaching, and it definitely irks me to have to take two in a row. But thanks to a a massive stomach flu, I'm now in that really obnoxious phase of recovery in which you feel totally fine and ready to go, and then you try to stand up and have to spend the next hour taking a nap.

So to celebrate my immobility, I have researched a blog post on "national branding" for three places we have recently lived: Japan, Scotland, and South Korea.

What is national branding? Well, people argue about whether or not it's really a thing, or if it is a thing, whether or not it really needs a special term. But overall, it just means what you think of when you think of a country - or even if you think of the country at all. Would you stereotype it as friendly? Unstable? An interesting place to visit? This is a big topic of interest for Korea, and you can read two interesting articles about Korean national branding here (.pdf) and here.

One company makes a business out of attempting to quantify a national brand. The annual Anholt GFK-Roper National Brands Index  collects data from 50 countries about each of the other 50 countries on the list in six key areas: exports (do you like their products?) governance, culture, people, tourism, and immigration and investment. New Zealand has posted its full report online so you can see a sample here. (It's a .pdf, just so you're warned).

This website lets you play around with survey responses on individual questions, and if you're a geek like me, this can keep you entertained for a couple of hours on the sofa while you try to work up the nerve to walk to the bathroom. The data is out of date - I've put the 2009 numbers first and the 2008 numbers in parentheses - so it doesn't reflect recent movement, or for instance anything related to the 2011 Tohoku quake. Here are the indicator rankings for American perceptions of the countries where Justin and I have lived:

US Opinion Of	Korea	Scotland	Japan
People	32 (41)	9 (6)	18 (12)
Products	23 (26)	16 (12)	2 (2)
Government	27 (34)	8 (7)	19 (16)
Tourism	39 (45)	11 (6)	13 (13)
Culture	36 (34)	14 (14)	7 (3)
Immigration and investment	25 (34)	12 (11)	15 (9)

So what's going on with this?

First, Scotland has high rankings out of proportion to its size or economic impact. I'm going to chalk this one up to good old fashioned narcissism: many many Americans have Scottish heritage. Americans like Scottish accents (see Shrek, Sean Connery.) Americans all know about tartan, and whisky, and Braveheart (even though what they know is probably wrong). Plus, why not rank Scottish people and Scottish culture highly? Indirectly, it might be a pat on the back to yourself!

Second, Korea has low rankings out of proportion to its size or economic impact, although it is making some significant upward movements. I attribute this to the fact that Korea is still not well known internationally, and what it tends to be most famous for (the Korean War) isn't that great. Also, whenever North Korea messes around, the name blurs back onto South Korea.

The obvious thing for me to do next is to give you my own rankings for these countries, but that's quite hard. Please understand that my purpose in this blog is to give some information and to be funny. My experiences are mine and limited, and I don't intend to stereotype. Just to be fair, I'll throw in the US. (I can rank it for Tourism because there are questions like "The country is rich in natural beauty" and "The country is rich in historic buildings and monuments." Similarly, Immigration questions include things like "Good place to study for educational qualifications" and "Quality of life." For full questions see the New Zealand .pdf linked to above.)

People:
Koreans: When you're in, you're so in that they will take you on vacation. When you're out, you're so out that they will run you over with a luggage cart.
Scots: The survey allows you to rank based on "fun." Scots are fun. Sometimes they are a bit too fun. It is the only place in the world where I have seen a businesswoman passed out drunk on the sidewalk at six PM on a Wednesday.
Japanese: Extremely polite but can be very bureaucratic. Whatever you do, do not sign a paper in blue ink.
Americans: Like golden retrievers, all Americans want is to be happy and to do good things. But sometimes we try so hard that we knock over your lamp and you kind of wish we hadn't tried to help in the first place.

Tourism:
On the whole, I think there are fewer things to see in Korea than in some smaller countries. Not necessarily Korea's fault (a civil war will really ruin your historical monuments) but still a fact. I am also biased by the fact that I have a pepper allergy and I just can't get by on Korean food. I enjoyed traveling in Scotland, but it does get pricey and can sometimes be kitschy. Overall, though, I really enjoyed traveling in Scotland, especially in the more unusual areas like Shetland and Orkney. I am still sorry I never made it over to Glasgow. I could travel in Japan for the rest of my time here and still not run out of things I want to do and see. America, like Japan, is so big that it would be hard to get bored. The US has a stronger showing in natural heritage than in historical stuff because of its youth.

Culture:

Korea and Scotland both suffer from a bit of cultural schizophrenia: there is 19th century "traditional heritage" culture (Korean hanbok, Scottish tartans etc) and then there is today. I think both the Scots and the Koreans struggle with how to be both "modern" and "local." America doesn't have this problem because it doesn't have traditional culture (witness Miss America's struggle every year to come up with national dress) so it's just modern. Japan, on the other hand, fascinates me with its ability to abstract out traditions (proportion, texture, space, etc) and apply them to modern ideas (architecture, fashion, food, etc).

Lastly, immigration:
Korea was the hardest place for us to live, mostly due to health reasons (my pepper allergy and Justin's asthma). Korea is also still quite insular in many ways - there are more foreign food restaurants near us in Fukuoka (pop. 2.5 million) than in Seoul (pop. 10 million). Scotland was surprisingly frustrating. Lease structures are very weighted against foreigners, and the bureaucratic and government structure is willfully inefficient. (Witness the fact that while New Zealand just distributed the original National Brand Index reports, the Scots retyped the entire thing to create a minimally-annotated but much harder to read final version). On the other hand, we didn't have anybody to help us in Scotland (like the assistants provided by international schools) so maybe the other places look artificially easy. Japan is very easy to live in. It is expensive, but everything works. The language barrier is quite difficult and it has much less English-language support, but that may be related to being in a provincial city rather than Seoul. As for America, I'm out of ideas. I did just have a fever. I think I'm doing pretty well to get this far.

Just for fun, here is the self-perception data. Unfortunately, I couldn't separate out Scotland (I suppose the survey data didn't distinguish between UK and Scotland when surveying respondents) so I added the US instead. (According to the Scotland survey above, the Scots ranked themselves 1st in nearly all categories.)

Own opinion of	USA	Korea	Japan
People	1 (1)	1 (1)	1 (1)
Products	1 (1)	1 (1)	1 (1)
Government	1 (2)	20 (24)	5 (7)
Tourism	1 (1)	3 (5) (France #1)	1 (1)
Culture	1 (1)	5 (5) (France #1)	4 (5) (USA #1)
Immigration and investment	1 (1)	1 (1)	1 (1)

Well. I don't think we need to worry about America's self-esteem any time soon, do we? But South Korea and Japan - stereotypically self-effacing - ranked themselves quite highly as well. Apparently all three countries have the best people, the best products, and are the best place to live!