Dinner was at Marum. Marum Restaurant is a modern, wooden structure with a lush, tropical courtyard illuminated by string lights and table lanterns. At night, Siem Reap gets cool enough to tolerate, so we sat under what I think was a lime tree and ordered some modern fusion. We started with a jackfruit and lotus hummus that was a little dry, but tasty. For the main event, we split stir-fried beef with tree ants, which is a local specialty. It tasted like regular stir-fried beef, only the tiniest bit crunchier. Ants don’t really have a taste. Also, they’re a carbon-neutral source of dense protein, so stop judging. We finished our meal with mango sticky rice–this time made with dark sticky rice, which seems to be the convention in Cambodia–and a pandan cream sauce. Pandan is a leaf that tastes a bit like vanilla and is used as a dessert flavoring in Southeast Asia. We first learned about it in Arm’s cooking class in Chiang Mai, but I hadn’t seen it anywhere since, so I was happy to find it on the menu. I made friends with a cat while Aaron got the check, and then we split to make our show on time.
We had tickets to Phare, The Cambodian Circus. We made our way to our seats in an intimate arena-style theater. The show was even better than I had expected. There’s a lot of signs for it around the town, so I was afraid it was a bit of a tourist trap, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. These were genuinely talented performers and acrobats (they weren’t bad on the eyes, either), executing genuinely challenging and awe-inspiring feats of dexterity. They juggled fire, rode unicycles, walked tightropes, balanced on all number of precarious things (including each other), climbed ladders leaned against nothing, flipped, jumped, contorted, and danced. I was impressed both by their talent and their range. Each performer seemed to be a master of several different arts. As well, you could tell they were all pushing themselves; some of the more difficult acts had moments of slight clumsiness that let us know they weren’t only giving us their most polished stuff. These moments only added to the intimacy, though, and pulled me into the show. I found myself rooting for them, when they indicated some upcoming, extremely difficult feat to the audience. When the tightrope walker had a unicycle brought to him, it took him a full forty-five seconds to psych himself up for the balancing act. We were all clapping and cheering him on. The whole show had the feel of a party. The performers made you feel like you weren’t just watching–you were invited. Aaron may have enjoyed it even more than I did. After, he was Googling when the next show was, so we could see them once more before we left.
We awoke early the next morning to meet our van driver and fellow tourmates. For Valentine’s Day, we had decided to celebrate by visiting two of Siem Reap’s most famous temples with a tour our hostel had organized. After yet another hassle with Visa at the ticket counter, we were driven out to Banteay Srei. Banteay Srei is an ancient Hindu temple outside the main Angkor temple complex. Built in the 10th century, it is dedicated to Shiva, and known for its intricate stone carvings. Every inch of every pink, sandstone structure was covered in them. The temple itself was small and many sections were roped off. It’s also not all original; when the temple was restored in the 1930s, several replacement stones and figures had to be made, including the interesting guardian monkeys outside of the central building. Nonetheless, we enjoyed our first Angkorian temple, and it whetted our appetites for more.
After an unremarkable lunch, we got what we were after: Beng Mealea. This is a giant, ruinous (but not ruined!) temple, also outside of the main park. Half of it is just heaping piles of gigantic, stone bricks. Tree roots strangle several of its doorways. A spider the size of my fist had set his trap in the corner of a window opening. Aaron and I spent a couple of hours exploring its labyrinthine halls and courtyards, climbing up its piles of deconstructed buildings, and under its still-standing archways. Everywhere we looked, nature was reclaiming the land. Nature was also about to reclaim me if I didn’t get some A/C ASAP. By the time we were done exploring, it was 95 degrees and my head was throbbing. I spent the ride home miserable and heat-sick, desperately pressing a plastic water bottle to my face. But I’d do it again, because Beng Mealea was unforgettable. It felt like a fever dream, like I’d stumbled into an Indiana Jones movie. It was oddly romantic, also, sharing that adventure with Aaron. A perfect Valentine’s.
Hanoimoon 