A Way Of Life

by Juwariah Shareef (United States of America)

A leap into the unknown Cambodia

At times in life you often wonder what destiny truly has in store for you. Sometimes when you are at the crux of two pathways you begin to realize the path more arduous and seemingly less known is truly the path meant for you. That same realization came to me as I boarded my one-way flight to Cambodia. In the June after grad school, I landed in the sticky heat of rambunctious, wild, phenomenal and mysterious Cambodia. Determined to be strong and independent after my 20 something odd hour flight, I haggled with a bunch of tuk tuk drivers in the sweltering heat of the airport terminal. Finally agreeing on what seemed like a reasonable price, the driver and I made our way across the seemingly misshapen landscape. As I looked at the western hotels give way to brick shops and eventually to pagodas and forests, I knew I had a journey to reckon with. 3 days later I rose groggily at 4 am and made my way to a cheap electric scooter I had rented and learned to drive within an hour. I started up the dingy scooter and made my way in the pitch darkness of dawn to catch the sunrise at Angkor Wat. Making my way across the eerie stone steps of the majestic temple I chose the highest step I could find to look across the largest religious structure mankind had ever known. An old monk passed by and handed me an incense stick to offer my respect. I lit my stick and among the soft orange hues of morning glory I offered my prayers to my God and him to his. We stood their side by side , a Muslim and a Buddhist, young and old, tall and short, a woman in her 20s struggling to fill her voids, and an old man whose life had been testament to the utter brutality of the Khmer regime and the ups and downs of the 7 decades that life had thus brought. But there we stood seeking peace among the stone walls of grandeur that had come to be known as the symbol of Cambodia. As I bowed my head in silence, I saw the monk smile at me and pointed me to follow him. As we passed through mazes and stone galleries tainted by time and moss, we finally came to the eastern gallery where I stood facing one of the most celebrated pieces of literature in the Mahabharata. He respectfully bowed to the scenes of astounding workmanship carved into stone. Not wanting to offend him I readily followed his lead. When I finally lifted my head, he had disappeared as if never there. I looked around the hall, but it stood empty. Standing there alone I took in the vast courtyards, the grey stone pagodas, the mossy murals, the centuries old stone work and the decorated ceilings and courtyards. Lastly, I caste a look towards the central shrine tower standing tall and proud in all its glory and splendor and for a split second I lost myself in the centuries thus past. I took myself back to a time when life was simpler and the temple buzzed with activity. As I stood there lost in time, I was suddenly jolted awake by a rowdy group of Chinese tourists passing by with a tour guide. Surprised by how much time had passed I started crisscrossing across the courtyard to the stone steps leading towards an exit. Jogging my way down I spotted a group of monks at one of the pagodas. And there it was. In that moment I realized a way of life had actually lasted through the ages and centuries. As the monks gonged, chanted and bowed in reverence, I realized that Angkor Wat was not the only thing that had stood strong against the tides of time. Rather it was the bonds of history, legend, and belief that had stood strong. I gave a short laugh as I realized that I had taken a flight halfway around the world to witness a unique way of life still abound and thriving here in magnificence of the Cambodian countryside.