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After nine days of travelling, Cambodia had already shocked and awed me in many ways. Its history, culture and Hindu lineage made me relate with the Khmer even more than would most people. But one thing I was definitely not prepared for….was the Pub Street. Just when the intellectual maelstrom from understanding Cambodia had ensured adjusting back to the drudgery of a routine life would be difficult, we went to Pub Street. The Temple Bar plays music loud enough to rouse the sleeping gods of Angkor and considers selling anything smaller than a pitcher of alcohol a shame. The street is lined with these pubs with people simply spilling over. As I sat waiting at Phnom Penh airport, my whole perspective about Cambodia had changed. The road trip from Siem Reap, again arranged by the very kind Tan, had passed by in a drunken haze. A splash on the face and a quick shower later…there we were, about to catch our ride home. And we were all exhausted, humbled and silent. We had come to understand the mysterious smiles of God's of Angkor and the almost mechanical, disenchanted way Khmers go about their work. In five years Pot managed to uproot Cambodia, bringing a thousand-year old glorious history to a complete standstill. The Cambodia that stands today, under its bustling night markets and throngs of tourists wowed by the sheer scale of the temples of Angkor is but a reflection of the magnificence it was.  Angkor itself is far removed from a city which was the largest pre-industrial town of the world sprawling over a 1000 square kilometres boasting of an elaborate infrastructure system across its urban wonders.
Angkor also had the most impressive water management systems insulating it from the vagaries of unpredictable monsoons. The only ancient city which came near this Khmer masterpiece was the Mayan city of Tikal, a 10th of the size of Angkor. And all of this, the Khmer managed when Paris was but a small hutment of 500 people. And here it was, more than 35 years after the Khmer Rouge…still struggling to find an identity, with only one constant witnessing it all: the Wat. As the Khmer say…the boat sails by, the shore remains. Click to read Part 1: Angkor Wat: the city of sleeping gods Click to read Part 2: From Angkor to Angkar
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