From the Bayon I walked north to the elephant terrace and Bauphon,
Phimeanakas and the Klengs, both North and South.
I stopped in the cool shade of the jungle and listened to a group of
Cambodian musiciaans. Land mine victims, all. I sat for a while,
listening to the jaunty music.
Out through the Victory Gate (ceremonial gate only used when the armies
were returning from a victorious war.) At Ta Keo I climbed up the
ridiculously steep steps, feeling appropriately humbled and small in
the approach to the temple mountain. Atop, I placed incense in
front
of the Buddha, bowed my head 3 times and said a prayer for the dead.
For my dad, for the 19,000 empty eye sockets at Cheong Ek, for all of
the Cambodians that were caught up in the series of wrong turns that
defines the last thirty years of history here.