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live with gods , animals of the area mingle with mythical dragon-like creatures . The art is from a time when Hinduism was established in the area before Buddhism and yet many of the faces of Angkor Thom seem to represent the Buddha . Some art even resembles that found in ancient Chinese stories and works . It ’ s a mix that has yet to be explained .
Captivated by my surroundings I had forgotten to drink , the heat and humidity of the day taking it ’ s toll , a slight dizziness slipped over my head or perhaps that was being forcible dragged back into the here and now . A side entrance that gave the impression of secrecy , of the unknown , or unwanted , led through to a deep , overgrown area of jungle , a red sign warned of dangers beyond in the dense undergrowth . It wasn ’ t hard to imagine what those dangers were , Cambodia ’ s recent history is one of violence and unspeakable horror .
A small dirt path led in the opposite direction and with it came the present day , tourist traps , the locals making do with what they can . Sitting for a refreshing drink right from the coconut we were quickly approached by Khmer women and children . Out thrust hands , books , trinkets , silks , all pushed our way . It ’ s hard to say no , and harder to escape . Nothing purchased … this time .
Traditional Khmer music seemed to seep through the jungle until a small wooden platform gave way to the musicians creating the joyous sounds . Three men , one blind and two with missing limbs smiled as I stood , drinking in the melody . A young girl approached and motioned toward the collection of CDs . I shrugged , suggesting I had no room for such things on my motorcycle , the truth , I laughed , was who still uses CDs ? The girl explained the plight of the men , all local farmers who had succumbed to the horrors
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