I only ever can be a belated and unreliable witness to atrocity, I mutter to myself as I carefully walk up the stairs. I have used that line before, and I suspect it’s partly copied from something Hemmingway wrote, but I’m still proud of it.
My driver dutifully dropped me off where I requested on the app, which was of course not where I should have started my exploration. But that’s the nature of doing this without the benefit of professional help. I walked through what seemed like the monk’s quarters, then found the steps leading up to the top of the hill, flanked on either side by impressive, and fairly new statues. Apart from sweating profusely, I am harassed by an unhealthy-looking dog most of the way to the top.
I was here to further punish myself emotionally, visiting the so-called Killing Cave of Phonom Sampeau, and nearby attractions on the hill with the same name.
The site has been home to numerous temples, some in caves, for centuries. But this is Cambodia, and no story here has a happy ending. A temple at the top was used by the Khmer Rouge as a prison, now repainted and reconsecrated.
The Khmer Rouge used a number of caves here as execution sites, leading the victims to the horizontal mouth of the caves, killing them, and letting the bodies fall into the darkness.
Men, women and children were executed separately and thousands met their end here.
At the bottom of the main cave, a stupa contains a display case full of bones of just a small percentage of the victims.
It’s worth noting here that this site is very understated compared to the sites I have previously chronicled. No entrance fees, no government officials in sight. If I chose to touch the skulls nothing would stop me except the monk offering blessings next door, and my remaining sense of propriety. I made a donation to that monk and received a blessing, and quickly put my shoes back on and almost ran to the surface. I made a small payment to my unasked-for student guide and left him behind to explore less claustrophobic and upsetting places. I followed a trail through the low vegetation and found a large Buddha statue and surronding smaller statues, which was lovely, but in a bad state of disrepair.
I sat here on a dirty stone bench for half an hour, reading my Kindle and contemplating why I kept doing this to myself before moving on.
I made my way down the hill, and discovered several other statues and ponds, overgrown and forgotten. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was a thriving site of worship before it was tainted.
Eventually I made my way to the lower section of the hill, to my final task, the famous Bat Cave. I settle down to drink beer and wait for the bats. Every early evening, over a million Wrinkle-Lipped bats (Chaerphon Plicatus) leave their caves in droves to hunt insects in the nearby lakes and rivers. Each bat can eat one and a half times its body weight in a night. The insects they eat are pest species in the rice crops, and it is estimated that the bats save twenty thousand Cambodians from food insecurity. Or in my opinion further insecurity. The road below the caves has become a tourist site in itself, and locals set up tables and chairs and sell beers to thirsty tourists. Of course I am happy to continue and contribute to this tradition.
Also here is a soon to be complete Buddha Statue, workers were on the scaffold as I arrived, apparently the project has stalled before due to lack of funds.
After my forth beer, the bats got their act together and departed for the evening, which is quite an impressive display.
By the time I had gotten bored of the bats, I was impaired and melancholy. A local tour guide supplemented his takings by taking me back to town with his fed up looking Frenchman client.
That night I felt a desperate need to be anywhere other than Cambodia, and I blew a tidy sum on pizza and ice cream, which could have been served up anywhere in the world.
Adrian's Got The Moose 