Roads in Cambodia are where you can observe two different worlds side-by-side.
ALL PICTURESMass tourism in a new guise _ recent years have witnessed a boom in Thai tourists driving to the ancient city of Angkor and other historic sites in Cambodia. Cambodians share a lot in common with Thais, as reflected in the architectural styles of their buildings.
STORY BY VASANA CHINVARAKORN , PHOTOS COURTESY OF CHAGORN SOPAPORN, 'C MAX' CAR MAGAZINE
National Highway No. 1, which runs from Phnom Penh to the southern border of Cambodia to join another truck road leading to Vietnam's Ho Chi Minh City, reflects the state of the country's roads - there are 38,257km in total, and only 2,406km, at least as of 2004, as being "paved".
Our caravan of 26 four-wheel drives and SUVs has to move with caution. The section of the road we are on is being expanded - it will soon become a four-lane motorway - but for now half of it is occupied by piles of dirt, some oversized bulldozers and a scattering of construction workers.
Clouds of dust, created every time a car passes, make it difficult to see ahead clearly. And we have only just left the capital of Phnom Penh!
You should not be fooled by the road's modest appearance, though. According to historian Charnvit Kasetsiri, National Highway No. 1 has played a crucial role in the history of Indochina. It is a "strategic road", he noted, a major artery that has brought and witnessed changes to the region stretching beyond the mouth of the Mekong delta.
A couple of thousand years ago, Indian merchants and travellers who introduced Hindu civilisation to Southeast Asia may have moved inland along the route. Thus were born the subsequent kingdoms of Funan, Zhenla and last, but not least, Angkor.
It is said that the French colonists who took over Cambodia and Vietnam as protectorates in the mid-19th century ordered the road built. For years, it contributed - as it still does today - to the flourishing cross-border trade between the peoples of the two countries. The Vietnamese-supported troops of Heng Samrin that took over Phnom Penh from the Khmer Rouge on January 7, 1979, marched on this road.
Decades later, thousands of tourists, including our extensive motorcade, still follow this route.
The road is considered a key element in the Asian Development Bank's multi-billion dollar plan to develop the so-called Greater Mekong sub-region's southern economic corridor. And yet we can glimpse Cambodian villagers plying the same road with horse-or cow-drawn carts, buses, old taxis, bicycles, motorcycles and pick-up trucks full of passengers and goods. Highway No. 1 may be rugged and dusty at times, but it serves well as a backdrop to layers of realities - the past seamlessly interwoven with the present - that sum up Cambodia in the 21st century.
Our current expedition is to trace the rise and fall of this enigmatic country, sandwiched between and exploited by its two stronger neighbours: Vietnam and Thailand. We are to cover 2,756km and three countries in seven days - by car. From Bangkok to Aranyapathet, Siem Riep, Phnom Penh and Ho Chi Minh City, the route is becoming popular with well-heeled Thais.
Kitti Nilthanom, managing director of Trans-Asia Route and the "captain" of this convoy, notes that last year his company organised 15 similar trips through Indochina. "We expect to do more than 20 this year," he said.
For this is mass tourism in a new guise. It balances the need for comfort and security with the urge for adventure. The 85 people in 26 vehicles feel they are in control, free to move at their chosen speed (most of the time) and to maintain their privacy in their own vehicles, but thanks to walkie-talkies, each driver is assured that he or she will not get lost, even on the more arduous stretches.
"Brake! Watch out for the cows!" a walkie-talkie says.
"The road is free. Follow me. Don't let other cars cut into our line!"
"Keep honking until we pass through the village!"
The explorers of the old days would not have been able to go as fast, or with such concerted energy and volume. In this particular frontier of car-driven tourism, Thais probably rank at the very top.
But we are well behind schedule. Originally, after Phnom Penh, we were supposed to cross the Mekong at the town of Neak Loeung and reach the border by lunchtime. However, traffic was heavy, made worse by the size of our convoy. Anyway, in our air-conditioned cars, we were faring much better than the local Cambodians, milling about in the glaring noonday sun. They kept tapping at our windows relentlessly, trying to sell us fruit, offering us car-cleaning services or simply begging for loose change. Their faces invariably showed signs of poverty; quite a few were maimed. On this ferry pier, we were so close, yet so far apart. Isn't that a little like the relations between our two countries?
Then it was time to cross to the other side. The ferry we used was named Ta Phrom - after the famous historic site in Siem Reap depicted in the film Tomb Raider. Rows of cars on the ship's lower deck were reminiscent of the sandstones piled up in one corner of Ta Phrom. Those, said our local guide, was a legacy of the French colonists. "They dismantled part of our shrine and simply left the stones there," he complained. "There were no marks to tell us how to put them back together."
National Highway No. 1, which runs from Phnom Penh to the southern border of Cambodia to join another truck road leading to Vietnam's Ho Chi Minh City, reflects the state of the country's roads - there are 38,257km in total, and only 2,406km, at least as of 2004, as being "paved".
Our caravan of 26 four-wheel drives and SUVs has to move with caution. The section of the road we are on is being expanded - it will soon become a four-lane motorway - but for now half of it is occupied by piles of dirt, some oversized bulldozers and a scattering of construction workers.
Clouds of dust, created every time a car passes, make it difficult to see ahead clearly. And we have only just left the capital of Phnom Penh!
You should not be fooled by the road's modest appearance, though. According to historian Charnvit Kasetsiri, National Highway No. 1 has played a crucial role in the history of Indochina. It is a "strategic road", he noted, a major artery that has brought and witnessed changes to the region stretching beyond the mouth of the Mekong delta.
A couple of thousand years ago, Indian merchants and travellers who introduced Hindu civilisation to Southeast Asia may have moved inland along the route. Thus were born the subsequent kingdoms of Funan, Zhenla and last, but not least, Angkor.
It is said that the French colonists who took over Cambodia and Vietnam as protectorates in the mid-19th century ordered the road built. For years, it contributed - as it still does today - to the flourishing cross-border trade between the peoples of the two countries. The Vietnamese-supported troops of Heng Samrin that took over Phnom Penh from the Khmer Rouge on January 7, 1979, marched on this road.
Decades later, thousands of tourists, including our extensive motorcade, still follow this route.
The road is considered a key element in the Asian Development Bank's multi-billion dollar plan to develop the so-called Greater Mekong sub-region's southern economic corridor. And yet we can glimpse Cambodian villagers plying the same road with horse-or cow-drawn carts, buses, old taxis, bicycles, motorcycles and pick-up trucks full of passengers and goods. Highway No. 1 may be rugged and dusty at times, but it serves well as a backdrop to layers of realities - the past seamlessly interwoven with the present - that sum up Cambodia in the 21st century.
Our current expedition is to trace the rise and fall of this enigmatic country, sandwiched between and exploited by its two stronger neighbours: Vietnam and Thailand. We are to cover 2,756km and three countries in seven days - by car. From Bangkok to Aranyapathet, Siem Riep, Phnom Penh and Ho Chi Minh City, the route is becoming popular with well-heeled Thais.
Kitti Nilthanom, managing director of Trans-Asia Route and the "captain" of this convoy, notes that last year his company organised 15 similar trips through Indochina. "We expect to do more than 20 this year," he said.
For this is mass tourism in a new guise. It balances the need for comfort and security with the urge for adventure. The 85 people in 26 vehicles feel they are in control, free to move at their chosen speed (most of the time) and to maintain their privacy in their own vehicles, but thanks to walkie-talkies, each driver is assured that he or she will not get lost, even on the more arduous stretches.
"Brake! Watch out for the cows!" a walkie-talkie says.
"The road is free. Follow me. Don't let other cars cut into our line!"
"Keep honking until we pass through the village!"
The explorers of the old days would not have been able to go as fast, or with such concerted energy and volume. In this particular frontier of car-driven tourism, Thais probably rank at the very top.
But we are well behind schedule. Originally, after Phnom Penh, we were supposed to cross the Mekong at the town of Neak Loeung and reach the border by lunchtime. However, traffic was heavy, made worse by the size of our convoy. Anyway, in our air-conditioned cars, we were faring much better than the local Cambodians, milling about in the glaring noonday sun. They kept tapping at our windows relentlessly, trying to sell us fruit, offering us car-cleaning services or simply begging for loose change. Their faces invariably showed signs of poverty; quite a few were maimed. On this ferry pier, we were so close, yet so far apart. Isn't that a little like the relations between our two countries?
Then it was time to cross to the other side. The ferry we used was named Ta Phrom - after the famous historic site in Siem Reap depicted in the film Tomb Raider. Rows of cars on the ship's lower deck were reminiscent of the sandstones piled up in one corner of Ta Phrom. Those, said our local guide, was a legacy of the French colonists. "They dismantled part of our shrine and simply left the stones there," he complained. "There were no marks to tell us how to put them back together."
Groups of local Cambodians trying to sell their goods at the ferry pier at the town of Neak Loeung. Fortunately, our guide did not mention the role of Cambodia's neighbours in his story. According to Siamese royal chronicles, King Mongkut (1804-1868) expressed a desire to have some Khmer shrines erected in his kingdom. Someone suggested relocating Ta Phrom. A group led by aristocrats from Bangkok was promptly dispatched. On the very day that the workers were to begin removing the construction, however, 300 Cambodian "bandits" showed up, executed the Thai leaders, then disappeared. Eventually, the Siamese monarch had to give up his ambitious project. An imitation Khmer-style shrine was subsequently built at his summer palace in Khao Wang, Phetchaburi, and a very small replica of Angkor Wat at the Temple of the Emerald Buddha in Bangkok.
Indeed, the history of Cambodia after the decline of Angkor is like the plot of a soap opera, with Vietnam and Siam taking turns to dictate who should be appointed king of Cambodia, where the capital should be and how the country should be run. Siam had a slight advantage due to the shared Hindu/Theravada Buddhist culture, whereas Vietnam enjoyed geographic proximity. At one stage, Vietnam tried, unsuccessfully to "civilise" the Cambodians through a process of "Vietnamisation". Incidentally, both neighbours resorted to similar tactics, including retaining the Cambodian royal families as their hostages/guests, and seizing the royal regalia as circumstances required. They also slowly "absorbed" the territories that were once under Cambodian rule - the provinces of Battambang and Siem Reap by Siam before the end of the 18th century, and, in the case of Vietnam, the settlement of Prey Nokor, known today as Ho Chi Minh City, long before the mid-1700s.
Cambodian monarchs at this time had to learn the art of diplomacy, an expertise they have maintained to this day. The factions inside the Cambodian court intensified the situation. Every now and then, one or more royal siblings would seek assistance from either Vietnam or Siam in a bid to take, or to keep, the throne. In 1811, it was Ang Chan (who reigned from 1806 to 1834) who asked Vietnam to help him fight against his rebellious brother, who was supported by Siam. At the same time, though, the king maintained his ties with the Bangkok regime, especially during the last years of his reign. In 1834, the Siamese army invaded Phnom Penh in an attempt to install Ang Chan's half-brother, Ang Duang.
Distrust prevailed on both sides, and Cambodia became weaker as a result of the power struggles. Eventually, the arrival of the French in the 19th century added to the complexity of the conflicts that continue to plague the region up to now.
It was Ang Duang (who reigned from 1847 to 1860) who took the initiative to write to Napoleon III, the French emperor, expressing his wish to establish some form of relationship, offering gifts and paying homage at the same time. After his first attempt failed, due to intervention by Siamese officials, he sent another letter asking the French ruler to help him regain the areas lost to the Vietnamese over 200 years previously. His successor, Norodom, made the next move.
Angry at Siam's refusal to allow him to take back his regalia, in August 1863, he decided to sign a treaty with the French, exchanging special trading rights for the latter's protection. In December of the same year, though, Norodom signed a secret treaty with Siam that would effectively negate the French claim to the Cambodian kingdom. After a serious dispute between the French and the Siamese, Norodom was eventually declared king a year later in a coronation ceremony presided over by both Siamese and French representatives.
But the influence of Siam over Cambodian court affairs lasted only up to the end of Mongkut's reign. From then on, except during World War Two, it was the time of French predominance and their joint efforts with the Cambodian elite to reconstruct national identity revolving around the once-greatness of Angkor.
Milton Osborne in his Phnom Penh - A Cultural and Literary History, writes: "It was in the last decade of the 19th and the first four decades of the 20th centuries that a vision of Cambodia's past was settled upon as a result of both French and Cambodian efforts, a vision that sought to establish an unbroken cultural link between contemporary Cambodia and the period of Angkorian greatness. Not the least of the motivations behind French actions was a concern to minimise memories of Cambodian royalty's close links with the Siamese court in Bangkok."
Years later, Norodom Sihanouk would be playing a similar game to his grandfather, but this time with both regional and international superpowers. For all the controversy surrounding him, Sihanouk managed to steer his country toward independence in 1953 through negotiation and other political manoeuvres, instead of taking up arms like his Vietnamese neighbour. "He is likely to be remembered as a national hero of Cambodia in years to come," noted Charnvit.
Interestingly, the former Cambodian king opted to befriend countries like France and China, instead of his two neighbours (Thailand and US-supported southern Vietnam), a move not unlike the efforts of his more recent ancestors.
But even Sihanouk could not prevent the Vietnam War, between the US-led allies and North Vietnam and its sympathisers, from spreading to his country. The southern region of Cambodia and Vietnam were deeply embroiled, with daily attacks by US forces (with support from Thailand and South Vietnam) and communist insurgents (who struck a clandestine deal with Sihanouk for land passage). The former king's leftist inclinations also spurred resistance that culminated in a coup in 1970. Reinstated as nominal head of state, including during the turbulent Khmer Rouge era, Sihanouk would never again be able to regain the consolidation of power as he had 50 years ago.
The man of the moment is definitely Prime Minister Somdech Hun Sen. Driving throughout Cambodia, and especially on Highway No. 1 up to the border at Bavet, we cannot miss the hoardings of various sizes showing the symbol of his Cambodian People's Party, often with his photograph beaming from above the ground.
Little do we realise at that point that the short distance at the Cambodian-Vietnamese borders will take a couple more hours to cross.
Next in the series: Onwards to the Ho Chi Minh City and back again in Phnom Penh.
Indeed, the history of Cambodia after the decline of Angkor is like the plot of a soap opera, with Vietnam and Siam taking turns to dictate who should be appointed king of Cambodia, where the capital should be and how the country should be run. Siam had a slight advantage due to the shared Hindu/Theravada Buddhist culture, whereas Vietnam enjoyed geographic proximity. At one stage, Vietnam tried, unsuccessfully to "civilise" the Cambodians through a process of "Vietnamisation". Incidentally, both neighbours resorted to similar tactics, including retaining the Cambodian royal families as their hostages/guests, and seizing the royal regalia as circumstances required. They also slowly "absorbed" the territories that were once under Cambodian rule - the provinces of Battambang and Siem Reap by Siam before the end of the 18th century, and, in the case of Vietnam, the settlement of Prey Nokor, known today as Ho Chi Minh City, long before the mid-1700s.
Cambodian monarchs at this time had to learn the art of diplomacy, an expertise they have maintained to this day. The factions inside the Cambodian court intensified the situation. Every now and then, one or more royal siblings would seek assistance from either Vietnam or Siam in a bid to take, or to keep, the throne. In 1811, it was Ang Chan (who reigned from 1806 to 1834) who asked Vietnam to help him fight against his rebellious brother, who was supported by Siam. At the same time, though, the king maintained his ties with the Bangkok regime, especially during the last years of his reign. In 1834, the Siamese army invaded Phnom Penh in an attempt to install Ang Chan's half-brother, Ang Duang.
Distrust prevailed on both sides, and Cambodia became weaker as a result of the power struggles. Eventually, the arrival of the French in the 19th century added to the complexity of the conflicts that continue to plague the region up to now.
It was Ang Duang (who reigned from 1847 to 1860) who took the initiative to write to Napoleon III, the French emperor, expressing his wish to establish some form of relationship, offering gifts and paying homage at the same time. After his first attempt failed, due to intervention by Siamese officials, he sent another letter asking the French ruler to help him regain the areas lost to the Vietnamese over 200 years previously. His successor, Norodom, made the next move.
Angry at Siam's refusal to allow him to take back his regalia, in August 1863, he decided to sign a treaty with the French, exchanging special trading rights for the latter's protection. In December of the same year, though, Norodom signed a secret treaty with Siam that would effectively negate the French claim to the Cambodian kingdom. After a serious dispute between the French and the Siamese, Norodom was eventually declared king a year later in a coronation ceremony presided over by both Siamese and French representatives.
But the influence of Siam over Cambodian court affairs lasted only up to the end of Mongkut's reign. From then on, except during World War Two, it was the time of French predominance and their joint efforts with the Cambodian elite to reconstruct national identity revolving around the once-greatness of Angkor.
Milton Osborne in his Phnom Penh - A Cultural and Literary History, writes: "It was in the last decade of the 19th and the first four decades of the 20th centuries that a vision of Cambodia's past was settled upon as a result of both French and Cambodian efforts, a vision that sought to establish an unbroken cultural link between contemporary Cambodia and the period of Angkorian greatness. Not the least of the motivations behind French actions was a concern to minimise memories of Cambodian royalty's close links with the Siamese court in Bangkok."
Years later, Norodom Sihanouk would be playing a similar game to his grandfather, but this time with both regional and international superpowers. For all the controversy surrounding him, Sihanouk managed to steer his country toward independence in 1953 through negotiation and other political manoeuvres, instead of taking up arms like his Vietnamese neighbour. "He is likely to be remembered as a national hero of Cambodia in years to come," noted Charnvit.
Interestingly, the former Cambodian king opted to befriend countries like France and China, instead of his two neighbours (Thailand and US-supported southern Vietnam), a move not unlike the efforts of his more recent ancestors.
But even Sihanouk could not prevent the Vietnam War, between the US-led allies and North Vietnam and its sympathisers, from spreading to his country. The southern region of Cambodia and Vietnam were deeply embroiled, with daily attacks by US forces (with support from Thailand and South Vietnam) and communist insurgents (who struck a clandestine deal with Sihanouk for land passage). The former king's leftist inclinations also spurred resistance that culminated in a coup in 1970. Reinstated as nominal head of state, including during the turbulent Khmer Rouge era, Sihanouk would never again be able to regain the consolidation of power as he had 50 years ago.
The man of the moment is definitely Prime Minister Somdech Hun Sen. Driving throughout Cambodia, and especially on Highway No. 1 up to the border at Bavet, we cannot miss the hoardings of various sizes showing the symbol of his Cambodian People's Party, often with his photograph beaming from above the ground.
Little do we realise at that point that the short distance at the Cambodian-Vietnamese borders will take a couple more hours to cross.
Next in the series: Onwards to the Ho Chi Minh City and back again in Phnom Penh.
