Phnom Kulan

Images from the Kulan Mountain:
http://picasaweb.google.com/liamoutselou/PhnomKulan#

On the motorbike ride to the Kulan Mountain, a mountain holy to the locals here, I let my mind roam and run free in the countryside and rice fields. My driver today is a young man called Lihou, age 26, ecstatically just married and loving his job. Tim seems tired today; I think he might have had a heavy night drinking, so I am grateful when he suggests that his friend takes me to Phnom Kulan instead. I am not one to take unnecessary risks.

The journey to Phnom Kulan takes a couple of hours and is beautiful crossing the Angor park to the west. Kulan is not really a mountain but I guess you could use the term as it is quite high by Cambodian standards. The road uphill is quite bad but I am impressed at Lihou’s good driving skills.

Today I am really happy, almost grateful to be on my own. I leave Lihou behind in search of the Giant Buddha and the waterfalls. This is my day with nature. I can’t wait to explore this wonderful forest in search of the waterfalls. The gateway to the Pagoda here is imposing and guarded by two fierce tiger sculptures. Once again I am serene and calm. Monks recite readings on a megaphone, pilgrims pray and locals take different paths into the forest. Phalla advised me to come here during the weekend and follow the local people.  This is the best way to explore the place.  I follow a group of five locals into the forest. I walk through a village, again people here are quite poor but really friendly.  As I reach the village exit I hear the waterfalls and soon I enter the riverside area. There are huts, resting stops for the visitors, a hanging bridge to cross to the first small water fall and a path to the larger waterfalls.

At first I am reluctant to take my clothes off here, but Phalla has encouraged me to have a swim here. And the young Russians who I sit with are already in beginnings and speedos (ha ha!). I scan the area for monks: there are none.  I am free again.

I walk carefully on the stones in the shallow water of the small water fall lake. To reach the water fall it is best to walk in a straight line and then turn right as there are some really deep parts of the ‘lake’ in the middle, which you would like miss to avoid any accidents.

Descent to the larger waterfalls spot is possible through wooden steep steps. Every other step there is one missing but the children here prance like goatlings, going up and down. The waterfall site is spectacular and I am drawn to the water, like a dry toad. I swim to the water fall and cleanse my soul sitting on a rock as its water falls on me powerfully. Today is a day of rest and serenity. I get rid of the debris, I feel strong and no longer afraid to expect and want what I know is right for me. My conversations with Phalla and other strangers here have common strands and themes and help me embark on answering some of the most important questions that have been lingering on my mind for a while.

I dry myself in the sun; the sound of the falling water is a soothing lullaby and I fall into a beautiful sleep as the sunrays caress me. When I wake up I see two butterflies resting on my toes. A dragonfly circles me. I feel like a muse. This is the setting of myths and fairytales. I love nature and nature loves me. We work well together.

I walk in the forest and have no sense of time. When I am back at the riverside huts, I get my self sweet potato fritters and a waffle from a village vendor. Here I meet Peter. Peter is an Australian volunteer teaching in the same area as me. He teaches English and maths. He has been here since September. There are quite a few volunteering projects here but I don’t recall the name of the project that he works with (my concentration wanes when I am so hungry). I like Peter, he is very friendly. Lihou (my driver) approaches me stressed then relieved. ‘I thought you were lost’ he says. Then he disappears again.

The next hour is like a silent comedy movie scene with a happy ending. Lihou and I chase and keep missing each other at different entrances and locations in the forest. I despair as I think that he has left. I have no battery on my phone and stupidly I have not written his number down on paper (what an amateur mistake right)? But the locals here are wonderful and they get me on a bike to search the forest. Lihou and I eventually find each other relieved. He is very apologetic. I think it’s best to stick to an agreed plan. We had agreed he would wait at a spot. But he moved only because he cared and wanted to make sure that I am ok. Note to self: clearly agree a time and place with the driver next time. And from a traveller’s perspective it’s best to charge a mobile phone- this is why I have it anyway- emergencies!

But all is ok and we leave for our next stop. The Western Barray is a large ancient reservoir built by the Khmer empire.  Wikipedia tells me that construction of the baray probably began in the 11th Century during the reign of King Syryavarman I and was finished later under King Udayadityavarman II. The impressive feat of building a dam at the time creates a vast  artificial lake, which is full with water during the winter season. There is an Easter Barray but the water level there is now low.  We arrive just before sunset. I descent using the side steps alongside the Dam. ‘Barrang, barrang!’ shout the children and women in a friendly manner. There is row of huts with a narrow wooden lakeside bridge. There are three hammocks per hut. Here you can bring your food and book, company and family and enjoy the calm and water. There is no other tourist in the huts but me, hence the locals’ excitement. Good tip Phalla , thank you. I read my book, the novelty of the Barrang wears out and everything resumes its order. I observe children playing happily, mothers bathing their babies in the lake, whole families enjoying time together, grannies crossing the wobbly bridge with the assistance of the grandchildren. This is one aspect of good quality of life that the Khmer have. They have the time and the culture to allow them to spend as much time with each other. Their health system is not developed, perhaps their education can be improved and there are some horror stories here. But despite their poverty and deprivation these people have each other in a way that for example my parents can’t have me. And this is beautiful.

I return to Lihou. Time to return him to his wife. I think he is so in love at the moment. It makes me smile.  

As we ride back to Siem Reap through the sunset I suddenly feel that the bond is complete. I have Cambodia and ‘she’ has me.