Legend of Bangsaen

by Kittisak Khamtong
Long ago, before the beach at Bangsaen sparkled with blinding white sand, there was only a fishing village there. Kamnan Bai, known for his benevolence and kindness to all in the village, was the chief. His wise leadership made the village a place of peace, happiness and tranquillity.
Kamnan Bai had one son named Saen who was a good young man. He always had good and honest words for his father and Kamnan Bai was content that his handsome son possessed much wisdom.
After Saen had finished a day of honest work, he would use the skill he possessed to make beautiful kites. When the winds were fair, the young man would gather the children of the village and the happy group would go to the sea where the kites would rise up like white seagulls and decorate the sky like glowing ivory stars.
Kamnan Bai thought that it was a suitable time for his good son to begin a family. He went to the parents of Mali, the fairest maid in the village, and talked of uniting their households. In this way, the engagement was made.
Kamnan Bai was surprised to see no light in Saen’s eyes when he told him he was engaged to the lovely Mali. The young man never spoke of the engagement and when Kamnan Bai mentioned a marriage date, his son would think of this reason or that for delaying the day.
At that time, there was an old woman, whose name no-one knew, who had made a small hut of thatch on the cliffs near the village. She lived with her granddaughter whose name was Mook (or Pearl). She had been given this name for her glowing skin and beauty of face and form which entranced the young men of the village. A radiance surrounded her as light does a pearl from the depth of the great seas.
But Mook was interested in none of the young men in the village. She kept herself alone with her grandmother, seldom speaking, and each evening would come out of the hut and sit on the edge of the cliff. She had no need to speak and would become part of the natural beauty which surrounded her.
One evening, there was a great storm. This storm tore one of Saen’s kites loose from a child’s hands and the child could not be consoled. Saen thus went in search of the kite, which had been blown to the edge of the cliff and clung there, trembling like a baby sparrow fallen from the nest.
Mook saw this and took the kite from its perch on the cliff’s edge.
At the same time, Saen appeared in search of the errant kite. In this way he met Mook, and when they began to speak, they instantly knew each other’s hearts. From that time onward they would meet at the edge of the cliff and a love grew between the two.
No-one knew of this and in time Sean gave Mook a gold ring as a symbol of what was in his heart. Mook accepted this ring and they made a vow that their love should be eternal. If it should happen that their love should be thwarted, they would give their lives to the sea.
They loved each other well. Yet it happened that Kamnan Bai came to know of the secret meetings between the two. He was disappointed and reasoned out different ways to stop this love between Saen and Mook, who had only her grandmother and a thatch house. He consulted with the astrologers and hurried them to name a propitious day for the marriage with the girl Mali. The astrologers could find no propitious day, yet even so Kamnan Bai told Mali’s house that a day had been set.
During this time, Kamnan Bai did not let his son go beyond the sight of his eyes, so there was no way for Saen to tell Mook of the upcoming wedding.
When Mook eventually heard of the coming marriage she was smote with sadness, thinking Saen untrue to his vow.
When the day of marriage between Saen and Mali arrived, as the guests were giving blessings to the bride and groom, the sky became dark as if the sunlight had been shadowed by the wings of a giant, malevolent crow. The wind wailed and the trees rocked. At the same moment, Mook appeared. Her eyes were hollow and empty and she looked like a wandering spirit.
Mook glided to the bridal couple and anointed their hands with lustral water. As she did this a gold ring fell out of the conch holding the water. Saen looked up quickly, but it was too late. Mook had disappeared from sight.
Saen ran after her, calling her name, for he knew she was going to the cliff where they had made their vow.
Mook stood on the edge of the cliff in the storm, the thunder roaring and the curling waves reaching for her like evil tentacles. She let herself fall to the rocks below and welcomed death. Saen stood looking for one moment and then followed his love.
From that time on, the eternal love of Saen and Mook may be heard in the keening of the wind and the wash of the waves.
Kamnan Bai was weak with sadness and knowing he could not bring his son back to him he gave the name Saen to the white, sparkling beach. He gave the name Mook (or Pearl) to the mountain which stands above it.
The villagers have revered this holy mountain ever since and there is a shrine there called “The Shrine of Lady Mook”.
Many people have tried to do businesses on this holy place but all have failed, despite its natural beauty. Finally, the area was taken under the care of the government and the area is a protected natural area. So it is today.

Phnom Penh Update

Downtown Phnom Penh (Photo by Toto).

by Barrie Kenyon
“This place is moving from basket case to industrial jungle,” bewailed the American expat who has lived in the Cambodian capital for five years. If anything, he understated the changes. Signs of revolution are everywhere - not wars and atrocities this time - but mobile phones, cement mixers and five star hotels. Land prices in Phnom Penh are doubling every year and the foundations for the city’s first skyscraper block were laid last month.
Every South East Asian country has its own way of handling economic boom times. Thailand is obsessed with foreigners and work permits, but not so Cambodia. If a foreigner makes an investment and employs Cambodians, there will not be a dawn knock from the immigration bureau. In Phnom Penh, a twelve months’ visa costs $500 renewable. Foreigners are everywhere. They pore over architect’s plans, deal Blackjack hands in the casinos and stand behind the bar in their own restaurants. International schools and telecommunications com-panies are opening by the dozen.
Of course, the country is still desperately poor. One legged servicemen are dependent on occasional sales of military compasses and old currency, maybe their only possessions. Kids hang around the stench ridden markets, offering to fan you for the equivalent of 2 baht. A cold beer or a cycle ride will cost you “one dollar”, the two words of English which are universally known. Traffic cops, supervising vehicles which remind you of Blackpool dodgem cars, are covered in exhaust fumes, but cannot yet afford the face masks as a protection.
And then there’s commercial sex. The Phnom Penh scene is dark discos and “dancing” restaurants rather than open air bars or go-go clubs with which Pattayans are familiar. Very few girls speak English which probably explains the reserve and protocol about which foreigners sometimes complain. A taxi driver summed it up: “In Phnom Penh you explore the sex scene, but it doesn’t knock you down.” Unless you drive out to Kilometre Eleven, about eight miles out of town, which is a very different story. K11, as it is known to locals, makes Pattaya look like a bible belt. Five hundred Vietnamese girls wave you in as if you were a conquering hero liberating Paris from the Nazis. The rather grubby street of bars and short time rooms will perk up even the most jaded farang appetites. The downside is that the girls are mostly illegal immigrants and bonded like medieval serfs. K11 is off limits for the squeamish, the guilt ridden or the non heterosexuals out there.
Many farangs in Phnom Penh are on visa runs. The Thai embassy is efficient and polite and tourist visas, single or double, are not a problem for those based in Thailand. Non-Immigrant visas, on the other hand, are practically a dying species without impeccable documentation, with double entries restricted to those with work permits. Remember to bring three passport photos as no-one has yet thought to open a Kodak shop within striking distance of the embassy. Visas are processed in twenty four hours as long as you submit your passport in the morning. Given that the Thai embassy in Laos now requires three working days, visits to Phnom Penh are likely to surge.
Sightseeing is limited. There is Toul Sleng, the former Khmer Rouge torture centre, the National Museum, the Russian Market and the Foreign Correspondents’ Club for lunch. Those wanting another dose of horror can drive out to the Killing Fields and the genocide museum in the afternoon. But that’s it on the cultural front. Shopping is good, but think only in dollars. Even the locals avoid the native currency, the riel, like the plague. Phnom Penh people have not yet decided how to handle foreigners with bulging wallets, but they are learning fast. Prices are beginning to go up steeply. A T-shirt, popular amongst Cambodian teenagers, says, “I know more than you think I do”.
Safe in the day, Phnom Penh is dangerous after dark. The murder rate is running at around ten bodies a week. You can rent a limousine and driver, waiting outside any of the big hotels in Monivong Avenue, to take you to dinner and the casino for around $20.
An army sergeant, cleaning his AK47, confided that he hadn’t any bullets and had never fired a shot in anger. Asked to compare Cambodia and Thailand, he said, “In Bangkok, they steal your letters. But in Phnom Penh we only steam off the stamps on your mail”. He summed up the position very precisely. The capital city is still partly medieval and its atmosphere remains welcoming in spite of the bulldozers and the payphones. The next century will be a very different story.

Legend of Bangsaen

Phnom Penh Update