Bleeding Rouge: Lessons from Cambodian History

By Supriya Savkoor

There are novels that take you to a fictional world you feel you’ve been to, with fictional characters whom you feel you know personally, even wondering what happens to them after you close the book. Then there are novels that you have to read—the ones that plunge you in a time and place that open your eyes to realities so large, you are changed by them.

If you read my post from 2 weeks ago, you know that, for me, a stunning example of such a book is In the Shadow of the Banyan, a somewhat fictionalized version of author Vaddey Ratner’s childhood in Pol Pot’s Cambodia. Books like these make you realize that human history is vastly more bizarre, more tragic, and more perplexing than any plot an author could conceive.

This incredible novel made the Cambodian genocide so real for me, in a kind of “no way could this have really happened” way, I gobbled up all of Ratner’s interviews, as many articles about Cambodian history as I could read, and even watched a couple of documentaries about the country. Heck, I even went online, googled “Cambodian people” to see their faces and find out, a generation later, how they’ve been holding up.

Anne Frank’s diary had been required reading in my eighth-grade English class in Texas. That first time I and my classmates learned about the Jewish Holocaust, we all turned to look at each other in utter disbelief, as though the teacher might have made the whole thing up. I learned a little more about the holocaust in high school, but that was the sum of my education about this facet of history. The takeaway for my young self back then was that, however catastrophic and appalling I understood this act of genocide to have been, it was the type of event that couldn’t happen again, definitely not in these modern times when we humans were supposedly smarter and more civilized than generations past. After all, photos from that era were in black and white, the police and SS uniforms looked like something out of a Charlie Chaplin movie, as did the Führer’s goofy mustache and bizarre Nazi salute, which made him seem more like a caricature than a real person.

Of course, we all know  genocide and other mass atrocities occur all too often—anywhere, anytime. Consider Rwanda, Bosnia, Somalia, Sudan, Iraq, Libya, and now Syria. And just as often, we tend to avert our eyes and keep ourselves blissfully uninformed. Educators can and should change this, and making Ms. Ratner’s powerful novel required reading in history classes (not just the specialized ones, but the general ones) would be a great first step. No other novel in recent memory so aptly drives home the tragedy of such large-scale injustice—as well as the need for us to harness our collective responsibility and strength to prevent and end them.

Tevodas, Rakshasas, and Other Cambodian Lore

By Supriya Savkoor

A couple of months ago, my book club chose to read a novel that I hadn’t yet heard of—In the Shadow of the Banyan, by Cambodian-American author Vaddey Ratner. I must have been living under a rock not to have heard of this critically acclaimed first novel, but I’ll admit, I was ambivalent about this choice as I knew it would require some fortitude to read. It's set against the backdrop of Cambodia’s darkest hour—the 1970s, when the Khmer Rouge systematically decimated about half of its own people, through torture, starvation, and, most of all, outright murder. And yet I soon discovered this semi-autographical book is extraordinary, as uplifting and hopeful as it is heartbreaking.

As I’ve told nearly everyone I know, this important book has so many complex facets and layers to it that schools and universities should be adding it to their required reading lists. Which subject? Take your pick—history, psychology, sociology, ethics, religion, spirituality, politics, cultural studies, philosophy, literature, even poetry.

And add one more to that list: mythology, which also happens to be the topic of the week here at Novel Adventurers. (Oh, but how I would really love to expound on all those other topics!)

Ratner’s story led me to a startling discovery—that many aspects of Cambodian civilization were influenced by Hindu myths, legends, and folklore. It’s startling because, while the faith of nearly all Cambodians is Buddhism—a faith that also hails from India, but has morphed into the local cultures and more or less lost its “Indianness”—I could not have conceived of a Southeast Asian culture that's seemingly so different from Indian culture, yet so closely aligned to it. Especially when it comes to ancient Hindu mythology, which is still very much alive in present-day in India and, it seems, in Cambodia as well.

Ratner seamlessly weaves in mythical characters that are often as real as her human ones. She also infuses her story with poetic metaphors such as my favorite, the one about the Reamker. 

A mural that shows a scene from the Reamker at the
Royal Palace in Phnom Pen, Cambodia. (Photo by hanay)

Hopefully, it’s no spoiler to tell you about the beginning of In the Shadow of the Banyan. We enter the privileged world of our protagonist, seven-year-old Raami, a Cambodian blue blood. Surrounded by her loving family, Raami enjoys all the joy and magic of an innocent childhood. While sitting under a banyan tree (an image evoking the Buddha) in the courtyard of her family’s palatial home, Raami begins rereading her favorite book, the Reamker.

“In time immemorial there existed a kingdom called Ayuthiya. It was as perfect a place as one could find in the Middle Realm. But such a paradise was not without envy. In the Underworld, there existed a parallel kingdom called Langka, a flip-mirror image of Ayuthiya. There, darkness prevailed. Its inhabitants, known as the rakshasas, fed on violence and destruction, grew ever more powerful by the evil and suffering they inflicted.”

I include that passage because, on several levels, it fills me with awe.

The story of the Reamker is surprisingly familiar to me, one that I too had read many times as a child of about Raami's age. It’s the Cambodian version of one of India’s best-known epics, the Ramayana, one of Hinduism’s most sacred texts and one of India's most popular mythological legends, comparable to Greek and Roman mythology. Hailing from ancient times, the Ramayana, is filled with a pantheon of gods and goddesses who have inexplicably human desires and weaknesses. It's part of the traditional Hinduism belief system, while for some (even in India), it's a colorful story steeped in philosophical themes combined with the magic of mythology.

A view of Angkor Wat, the world's largest
Vishnu temple, in Angkor, Cambodia.

The story of the Ramayana/Reamker is also a brilliant metaphor for Ratner’s novel. As the title(s) of the former imply, it's the story of Rama (aka Preah Ream), whom Hindus believe to be a human avatar of the Lord Vishnu. As the story goes, Rama led a happy, privileged life as a prince in the benevolent kingdom of Ayodhya (Ayuthiya). As a young man, he’s banished for reasons out of his control. He spends years in exile, far from home and separated from most everyone he loves. Soon, his wife is abducted by a jealous king from Lanka (modern-day Sri Lanka, called Langka in the Cambodian version). Ram eventually returns home but not before a long, bloody war pits all the forces of good and evil against each other and ends in devastating losses for both sides.

Sound familiar? Yes, it sums up Ratner's telling of the Cambodian genocide, with young Raami as a sort of avatar of the noble Ram. Raami is exiled into a world filled with rakshasas, in the form of Pol Pot’s vast army of soldiers, and tevodas, angels who are perhaps counterparts to the mythical devas that fend off the devil’s rakshasa minions. Raami’s father is frequently compared to Indra, the powerful god of thunder and lightning, who also happens to be the king of the devas (the good guys). And, of course, even after it was all over, there
                                                                                 were no winners.

For thousands of years, the story of the Ramayana has been performed in
plays and dance all over Southeast Asia. This photo, a postcard scan, 
shows the Royal Ballet of Cambodia performing the Reamker in the
courtyard of the Silver Pagoda in Phnom Penh sometime between the
1900s and 1920s. This particular postcard depicts a scene from a battle
between Rama and Ravana. Starting in 1900, F. Fleury published
a series of postcards featuring such scenes from the Reamker in China.
The publication year of this postcard is unknown, but it is suspected to

be taken during either King Norodom's reign in Phnom Penh or during
the early years of King Sisowath's reign. Author Vaddey Ratner herself

is a direct descendent of Sisowath royalty.

The rest of Ratner's novel is likewise steeped in the Hindu mythology I grew up on, albeit with a Cambodian flavor.

One other surprise entailed references to the old animal fables known as Jataka Tales, filled with morality lessons. These short stories, which some historians say inspired Aesop’s Fables, had titles such as The Monkey King’s Sacrifice, The Mouse Merchant, and The Demon Outwitted. I'd always presumed the Jataka Tales to be purely Indian, so I was surprised to learn through In the Shadow of the Banyan that the Jataka Tales are equally well-known all over Southeast Asia. Considered to be a recounting of the Buddha’s previous births, in both human and animal form, the stories impart the virtue and wisdom of the Buddha as he appears to us in all his worldy forms (and, of course, teaches that god is within all of us).

 Po Romem, Hindu temple from the Cham era
near present-day Phan Rang, Vietnam.

(photo by Irdyb)

All of this cross-cultural exchange, it turns out, occurred because, for a few thousand years starting in the first century, Hinduism dominated as both a religion and a culture in Cambodia—and to varying degrees, in modern-day Laos, Burma, Malaysia, Thailand, Indonesia (see my related post here), Java, Bali, Vietnam, and even the Philippines. Hindu kingdoms across this region were later described as “Indianized” kingdoms or states, part of a “Greater India” or “Farther India.” India’s influence, however, was entirely cultural, not connected in any way to politics or government. (Historians have called this India's "cultural expansion" and even "cultural imperialism.")

Much of Southeast Asia's oldest sacred texts, literature, and philosophy were written in the ancient Indian languages of Sanskrit and Pali. Though these languages are now archaic (used only in sacred Hindu and Buddhist texts), modern-day Southeast Asian languages still retain vestiges of them. Southeast Asian names in general also sound a lot like Indian ones. And it's said that the name of the country Singapore, known as the Lion City, is based on the Sanskrit words simhah for lion and puram for city. (Simhah puram sounds a bit like "Singapore," right?)

For thousands of years, Southeast Asian kings stylized themselves after Indian devarajas, or god-kings, a bit like Prince Rama from the Ramayana. These kings took on royal, Indian-sounding names, such as Jayavarman VII (Cambodia) and Wikramawardhana (Java), and consulted Brahmin priests from India before making big decisions, such as going to war or relocating a capital. They performed the Hindu ritual ceremony known as a puja. Some even adopted the infamous caste system.

These kings also erected numerous temples and statues—many of which survive today—in honor of Hindu gods and goddesses. Cambodia has preserved one of the world’s only two temples dedicated to Brahma as well as the world’s largest Vishnu temple, Angkor Wat, located in Angkor.

The Hindu kingdoms of Southeast Asia flourished for about a thousand years, before, bit by bit, they began infusing more Buddhist beliefs in with their Hindu ones until, eventually, Buddhism prevailed. As I learned from Ratner’s amazing novel, remnants of the region’s Hindu past still linger and inspire. And the title of In the Shadow of the Banyan suggests that despite all that young Raami, and Ratner herself, experienced, a higher force had protected them all along.

(A post-script: I'll be writing a follow-up to this post in 2 weeks, when we cover book reviews. In the meantime, I encourage you to visit Vaddey Ratner's web site, www.vaddeyratner.com, or connect with her on FaceBook. Most importantly, read her book! I'd love to hear your impressions.)

Off The Beaten Track: Shamini Flint

Practicing law in Malaysia and Singapore before becoming a successfully published author, Shamini Flint traveled extensively around Asia for work before resigning to become a stay-at-home mum, writer, part-time lecturer, and environmental activist – all in an effort, she says, to make up for her “evil” past as a corporate lawyer! In addition to writing two excellent children’s novels – Diary of a Soccer Star and Diary of a Cricket God published by Allen & Unwin, Australia and Puffin, India – Shamini also writes cross-cultural crime fiction (our favorite kind), taking her main character – of whom The Guardian says, “it’s impossible not to warm to the portly, sweating, dishevelled, wheezing Inspector Singh” – through Malaysia, Bali, Singapore, and Cambodia to solve all kinds of perplexing murder cases. With the publication of Shamini’s latest novel in this excellent series, her protagonist finally makes it to India, the land of his ancestors. A bit like Shamini, in fact.

“Incredible India!” That’s the advert that’s been running for the last year or so on television here in Singapore and probably the rest of the world too. In it, India casts its spell on a wide-eyed man of Caucasian origin who sums up his experience on a postcard – Incredible India! My feelings about the motherland are far more conflicted so an entire novel – my latest crime fiction, Inspector Singh Investigates:  A Curious Indian Cadaver – hasn’t been sufficient to air my thoughts.

Both my grandfathers arrived by boat in Malaysia (then known as Malaya, which was a British colony) almost a hundred years ago. They settled in a small fishing village called Kuantan and set about carving a future for their children. One was a nurse, the other an estate clerk. Having found jobs, they sent for wives from back home and committed themselves to the production of numerous progeny. Their assimilation was impressive in that they adopted local hobbies – mahjong and badminton – and learnt to speak Malay, the native language of the country. Their daughters were raised to be teachers and the sons doctors. I often wonder whether they thought of themselves as Malayan at this point or whether they assumed, as so many of their peers did, that this sojourn in the tropics was temporary and would end with their triumphant return to their ancestral villages some day.

However, when Malaysia became independent in 1957, a choice was forced upon them and both chose to remain, abandoning any dreams of returning to India to accept citizenship of this new land while it was on offer.

Their offspring, the teachers and doctors, produced children who were lawyers and doctors (with a couple of engineers and accountants thrown in), and my grandparents were cremated knowing that they had achieved what they set out to do. All their dreams had been economic – the bottom line was the bottom dollar –  and in the success of the grandchildren, they were content.

Which is how it came to be, that I, a lawyer by training, grew up a Malaysian, unable to speak more than a few words of Tamil or Malayalee (the languages of my grandfathers) and never having been to India. The irony, of course, was that, in multiracial Malaysia where ethnicity determines university places and access to government jobs, my Indian-ness was singularly important. So there I was – an Indian in Malaysia, comfortable with my identity, wont to speak of the depth of Indian culture in a smug tone and to take pride in the Indian economic miracle. I did not go as far as some of my elderly uncles who – sitting pretty in Singapore or Malaysia – would attribute much that was good in the world to India or an Indian.

Apparently, for instance, an Indian discovered gravity long before Newton, penicillin before Fleming and invented the games of rugby, cricket, and football in the village square. My all-time favourite was when an aunt told me in in no uncertain terms, ‘Shakespeare was also Indian, you know.’ And don’t lets get started on Ben Kingsley …

So much vicarious pride! What fine Indians we were! Until the day I made my first trip to India in the late ’80s and discovered I wasn’t Indian at all. There were two dimensions to this. First of all, I didn’t feel I belonged. But more importantly, no one in India thought I was Indian, not even for a moment. My distant relatives were shocked at my short hair and kept asking if I was a boy. They didn’t like it if I went sightseeing on a hot day in case I was burnt any darker by the sun – fair skin being a pre-condition of marriage unless the dowry was to set you back a long way. Strangers pointed at me on the streets because of my short sleeves and jeans. And every single taxi driver overcharged me on the grounds that I was a foreigner and wouldn’t know any better. Finally, I fell ill and spent the rest of the holiday making use of the hotel facilities. I had severe culture shock in the place I had always assumed, in some distant but comforting way, was home.

I’ve been back many times since and India has changed a lot. I’m no longer viewed as an escapee from Mars/the zoo/prison. But this is largely because we have a reached an understanding, India and I. I am just another tourist from some foreign land – like the Chinese or the English or the Russians. From my point of view, I can appreciate the history (as if I was in Rome), the architecture (as if I was in London) and the food (as if I was in Beijing). I am a stranger finding beauty and culture and inspiration in a complex and fascinating land. But I know that I’m not an Indian anymore, and that is a huge loss.

Off The Beaten Track: Jenny Watson, Habitat for Humanity

This week’s Off The Beaten Track guest is Australian Jenny Watson. Jenny is primarily a businesswoman, but whilst business is very important, it’s only a small part of what makes Jenny tick.  Her vision is a world where every family has access to decent housing, a clean water supply and sanitation facilities. To that end, she has developed a programme in conjunction with Habitat for Humanity to take Australian volunteers into Mongolia, Cambodia and Nepal to work alongside local homeowners, building safe and affordable housing and village infrastructure. For more information click here http://www.habitat.org.au.

The world is experiencing a global housing crisis. According to UN statistics, 1.6 billion people worldwide live in substandard housing and 100 million are homeless. Rapid population growth and urbanisation adds greater urgency to this crisis. Every week more than a million people are born in or move to cities in the developing world, increasing the demand for housing, water supply, sanitation and other urban infrastructure.

Right now, according to the United Nations, more than a billion people – 32 percent of the global urban population – live in urban slums in dilapidated housing characterised by poor structural quality, over-crowding, squalor, lack of tenure security and poor access to water and sanitation.

I first heard about Habitat for Humanity in the aftermath of the Tsunami in the Indian Ocean in 2004.  Habitat was heavily involved in the rebuilding of homes for some of the most devastated families in this disaster. I worked in the construction industry at the time and some of my friends were travelling to Aceh to assist with the rebuilding process. The idea fascinated me – to be able to help not only financially, but physically and emotionally as well – I needed to find out more about Habitat. What I discovered is an organisation based on advocacy, engagement, leadership, sustainability and dignity - all values that I respect and hold.

I believe that long term sustainable change is best achieved when families and communities are personally involved in improving their own circumstances, and Habitat provides micro-finance opportunities for low-income families and communities to build their own home or to build infrastructure in their community. It’s definitely not a hand out – homeowners pay back every penny of any money they borrow and that money is then available for others to borrow and improve their own lives. Many homeowners also go on to mentor others through the process of building their own home.

A decent home is a catalyst for change in the life of these vulnerable families. It opens the door to improved health, better performance in school, greater economic opportunities and increased community cohesion.   

As a volunteer with Habitat, I can’t help every one of those billion people, but I can help just a few people take charge of their circumstances and build a future of hope and potential for their families.

In order to be involved with Habitat for Humanity, I need a “pool” of funds available for micro financing (I can either donate this myself or raise the money through friends and family).  Then I travel to the country, or countries, of my choice (this year, Cambodia, Mongolia, and Nepal) and spend a week with a local family helping them to build their own home.  

I have no building experience – it’s not necessary. I move rocks, dig holes, mix concrete, paint walls, hammer nails, – none of which require any skills. I also learn to make and lay bricks, tie scaffolding, and build steps – all skills that I would never have learned in any other environment, and which I will take to future builds to help other families over the course of my life.

All that said – my involvement is not entirely altruistic – I get as much from the experience as the homeowners do!  I get to travel to some incredible places and meet some amazing people who I wouldn’t cross paths with normally. I get to work alongside them, see how they live, what they eat, I learn the history of their country and their culture and I get to learn about what dreams they old and what they wish for their children.

In July this year, I’m taking a team to Mongolia to participate in a “Blue Sky Build”, where we will join with volunteers from around the world and homeowners to build twenty energy efficient homes in one week. The families for whom we are building currently live in ramshackle wood huts, in overcrowded and unhygienic conditions. They lack connections to the city’s central heating – vital to combat the winter cold – and water systems. Each 32m² home will have a small bedroom, a living room, a kitchen, and a separate toilet. The families will also have access their own small garden, so that they can grow some of their own food.

I am also arranging some teams into Cambodia and Nepal this year, too.

If you’d like to find out more or if you’d like to join my team – please contact me at jennywatson@me.com.

Off The Beaten Track: Photography Journey -- Thailand, Vietnam, and Cambodia

We continue David Townsend's photography series this week with a journey to Southeast Asia. David is a professional photographer from Denver, Colorado. A self-taught photographer, David's journey started fifteen years ago when he captured the beauty of nature and landscapes in his home state.  He later became an accomplished portrait photographer and master of the digital darkroom.  Portrait photography eventually led him into photographing weddings, and now he and his wife, Lynn, own David Lynn Photography, a thriving wedding and portrait photography business.  David also teaches his skills to new and aspiring photographers with his Shootshops Photography Workshops. Travel and photography have always remained David’s true passions, and he takes every opportunity to combine these whenever possible.

David’s travels have taken him all over the United States, and to three other continents and fifteen countries: Canada, Mexico, Guatemala, Belize, Costa Rica, Chile, Argentina, Italy, South Africa, Botswana, Zambia, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam.

Websites:

www.townsendphotography.com

www.davidlynnphoto.com

www.shootshops.com

www.facebook.com/davidlynnphotography

My wife Lynn and I took a six week journey through Southeast Asia, feasting our eyes on the beauty of each country, taking every opportunity to sample the most amazing culinary tastes in the world. We soaked in the scenery with our senses and let our cameras capture it all. 

These images can be found at www.townsendphotography.com ~ world galleries

The wats (temples) in Thailand are abundant, and all of them contain an image of the Buddha in one of many poses.  In this image, monks are gathered in a wat for meditation. 

TIP:  It is always important to learn customs, traditions, and protocol in the country you are visiting.  It would have been very disruptive and disrespectful to walk in to the temple and shoot pictures, so I used a telephoto lens from far outside to capture this image.

These young novice monks were very intrigued by me and my camera, and they were very open to having their picture taken.  After asking them permission, I waited until they had these very thoughtful expressions.

TIP:  When shooting children up close while traveling, start by engaging them first, and then pick up your camera to take pictures.

This image in northern Thailand creates mood through warm sunlight, the mist rising off the river, and the smoke coming from one of the village homes.

TIP:  You can always shoot into the sun, and many times it gives interesting and artistic lens flare.  If the sun is just casting a hazy film over your image, use a lens hood or shade the lens with your hand when shooting.

Chiang Mai in northern Thailand is famous for its markets, and the night market is no exception.  There are loads of amazing crafts, clothes, sculptures and trinkets to stuff in your bag, and there’s always an amazing assortment of food to choose from.

TIP: Night photography is a fun way to liven up your evenings.  Using a tripod, choose a bright light in the scene to focus on, choose a “wide open” aperture (f2.8, f3.5 etc) and set your shutter speed for a variety of long exposures and see what looks the best!  Using your camera’s timer is a great way to prevent shaking the camera when you press the shutter.

 

Southeast Asia’s landscape is absolutely amazing, but the most beautiful part about the region is the people.  The people of Thailand, Vietnam, and Cambodia are some of the most friendly in the world, and I am always gravitating toward them as much as I am the landscape.  I chose the warm black and white tones for these images to draw the eye to the expressions and features of the people’s faces without the distraction of color.

TIP:  When travelling, photograph people using a telephoto lens.  It allows you to be non-intrusive, and let’s you get up close and personal without being in their space.

The city of Hanoi, Vietnam has a population of 6 million people, and they boast a population of almost 4 million motorcycles!  The city is a constant flow of motorbikes and cars, and it is one of life’s greatest adventures to try and cross the street.  Intersections are a chaotic pulse of vehicles with no apparent rhyme or reason, and I found myself just in awe of the bustle of this charming city.

TIP:  To capture movement, use shutter speeds to achieve different effects.  Fast shutter speeds will “freeze” action, and slower shutter speeds will create blurred movement.  How much of an effect will depend on the shutter speed and the pace of your moving subject, so experiment with different settings in each shooting situation.

I shot this Asian market scene on a typically foggy day in Sapa, Vietnam in the northern part of the country.  I pre-arranged the composition I wanted, and then waited until just the right subject walked through my image frame.

TIP:  Using creative tools like vertical orientation and an ever so slight tilt of the camera helps to lead the viewer’s eye toward a particular part of the image.

These images of Vietnam, one from Halong Bay and the other from rice fields near Sapa in the north, both capture a sense of place in addition to telling a story.  Halong Bay is an amazing natural wonder of Asia, with a dense collection of monolithic limestone islands that are covered with jungle vegetation. Among them you can find caves, lakes and secluded beaches.  There is also a population of people who call Halong Bay home, as in floating home.   Rice fields are abundant throughout Asia, and women hunkered over working all day are a commonplace sight in these fields.

TIP: Use wide-angle lenses to include important or dramatic elements in your image.  The halong Bay shot has the two people in the boat to tell the story of how people get around in the bay.  The rice fields show the workers small in the image, giving scope and perspective to the scene.

These kids in northern Vietnam were all about playing and being photographed, so I had an easy time playing with them and getting a couple good shots.  I chose to focus on the two laughing boys behind the kid in front, while still maintaining his expression clearly.

TIP:  Use larger aperture values (f9, f11, f16) to achieve greater depth of focus throughout your image.  Smaller aperture values (f2.8, f3.5, f4.5) will yield less depth of focus and beautifully blurred backgrounds. DSLR cameras also have an Autofocus tracking system that tracks a moving subject and keeps them in focus, a really useful tool when photographing action.

Strolling through a gorgeous city park in Hanoi, Vietnam, I was impressed by the amount of people of all ages doing Tai Chi. Until I saw them, it never occurred to me that it was regularly practiced in its region of origin!

TIP:  Use anything in your environment to “frame” your subject making a more engaging image.  Here, I placed the woman right in the empty space of tree branches, forming a perfect natural frame.

Angkor, Cambodia is one of the most amazing ruin sites in the world.  The ruins are from the Khmer Empire, 9th to 15th centuries, and span about 120 sq mi (323 sq km).  I spent three solid days from before sunrise to after sunset wandering through and photographing these amazing structures.

TIPS:  Angkor Wat – I photographed this enormous temple from another ruin site that afforded a breathtaking view of the temple from afar, allowing me to show its massive presence in the jungle. 

Ta Prohm Temple – This is the most dramatic example of the jungle actually taking over these ancient buildings.  I used a black and white tone in this image to highlight the contrast of the tree and the ruin and lends well to its ancient nature.

Bayon Faces – I used my telephoto zoom lens to crop in on just these three faces to highlight that specific feature in the temple.

Angkor Reflection – I photographed these lotus flowers using the reflection of the temple spires and the rising sun as an added element in this silhouette, being careful to place them right between the spires in the water.

I asked these monks permission to take their photo and they were more than gracious. Always be respectful of persons of religious nature or prominent individuals in a culture or society.  Particularly with children, offer to show them the picture on your camera after shooting it.  It’s an instant icebreaker and (usually) gets your subject more willing to have their photo taken.

TIP:  I used two simple composition techniques here to create an interesting image:  I placed the subjects slightly off center, and I tilted my camera slightly to create a more dynamic angle.

The giant limestone islands of Thailand’s islands always amaze me, and I love finding new ways to photograph them.  This was a great opportunity to shoot one of them with the boat shown for size comparison.

TIP:  When choosing a subject, use a wide angle on whatever lens you have and include another object or element that creates a sense of perspective or scale.

The island of Ko Phi Phi was a particularly rare visit for this trip, as it was one of the islands hit by the tsunami of 2004.  The devastation was massive, and as I photographed the middle of the island from up high, I was acutely aware of what it must have felt like to watch the event unfold.  It made me deeply thankful for all the safe travels I have had in my life.  Lastly, a trip to Southeast Asia’s islands wouldn’t be complete without an incredibly gorgeous sunset.

TIP:  Include a foreground element (like the palm trees) to add an appealing element to your image.  Also, when photographing water around sunrise and sunset, look for reflections of color from the sky.  Try to create unique images of just the colored water, leaving out the actual sunset sky.