The Children of the Temple Ruins
The second my tuk tuk stops at any one of the larger temples I am surrounded by many children beseeching me to buy from them; bracelets, small bronze statues, postcards, scarves, shirts, books, DVD’s, hats, water, anything…...to buy something. They each want “madam” to buy from them.
Although young, they are highly skilled, tenacious and have many selling techniques. “Where are you from?” is a common question.
I reply, “New Zealand”.
After the briefest of pauses the reply comes, “the capital of New Zealand is Wellington”.
“Yes, that’s correct and you are very clever”.
“OK…I know the capital of your country……you buy from me now.” That may or may not be followed with “then I can go to school”.
Another technique is to say “what’s your name?” and then they follow me along saying “Joy, you buy from me…..Joy you buy from me”.
Some visitors are clearly irritated by the vendors and the beggars and I can see why because it is very wearying. Personally I think that these are just kids out trying to do the best for themselves and their families. I find it difficult to ignore them. I want to engage with them and sometimes I do.
Sometimes I buy. I’ve purchased many packs of postcards and some scarves. Far too many to send or bring home, but hopefully the donation helps some family because $1 is a lot of money here and that amount of money will probably allow a family of three to eat for a day.
One young boy waiting, hiding in the middle of a temple whispered to me to follow him and after several persuasive attempts I went with him. He tempted me with the offer of a good spot for a photograph. He was perhaps eight and said he had no mother or father. Although I had some difficulty understanding him, he launched into a history lesson on all the temples around him, pointing enthusiastically this way and that. His knowledge was clearly outstanding. When it came time for me to pay for the knowledge he wanted $10. He said “it’s for my school and they can only take $10”. He had several strong arguments, all aimed at tugging at my heart strings.
Many children out here beg. Temple guards sometimes chase them away. A couple of times I saw a mother get all of her children into a temple early in the morning. Sheer joy and satisfaction lit up her proud beautiful face.
I took the photograph of the little boy with the dog at Banteay Srei Temple. He was just sitting there looking very plaintive; his tiny dog snuggled into a crack in the stones. I stood and watched for some time and many people gave him things – some gave sweets, some wee books or pencils and some money. With every donation, he put his hands up to his face (prayer style) as a thank you. The second the visitor moved on, he quickly hid the money, out of sight, between the folds of his dirty cream trousers then waited, patiently, silently, for the next person to come along.
One young girl who was probably about 10 or 11 (the hat maker) wanted to sell me postcards. I could tell that her heart wasn’t in it as all the other children are unbelievably persistent. But she was lethargic. I went around the corner and sat amongst the ruins so I could have some quiet time and write in my diary.
She got up and hid her stash of postcards and disappeared for a time. When she returned I could see that she had collected a pile of large green leaves and some thin dry twigs. She took up a position just along from me and humming happily she used these rudimentary tools to construct a hat for her bald head. We laughed and laughed as she tried it on only to find it was too small. The moments we shared were precious. I asked permission to take her photo and she obliged so as I left I gave her one dollar but she wouldn’t accept charity, insisting instead that I take a pack of post cards.
Later I asked Cambodians why she was bald and was told of two possibilities. The first was that her head had been shaved so her hair could be sold to raise money. The other possibility was that one of her parents had died and so it was done as a mark of respect.
Of course these are times when the children should be in school. I asked many different people including the children themselves about school and received many and conflicting answers. I got the feeling that they were irritated at being asked such a question.
Responses ranged from, “no school today”, “I go this afternoon”, “the teacher is sick so no school” etc. I have been told that school is free but at other times told that there is a cost. Some say that when the family has enough money the child will go to school but if not they must sell goods to eat.
I am in conflict; do I give and allow them to eat or does my giving encourage begging but I have written about that in an different article.
It’s very likely that these children are the descendants of the kings or the people from this truly amazing period in their countries history. Yet they are forced to beg to live. These temple sites get over one million paying visitors to their ancient home. The order of things doesn’t seem right to me and I can’t help but think there must be a better way.
The second my tuk tuk stops at any one of the larger temples I am surrounded by many children beseeching me to buy from them; bracelets, small bronze statues, postcards, scarves, shirts, books, DVD’s, hats, water, anything…...to buy something. They each want “madam” to buy from them.
Although young, they are highly skilled, tenacious and have many selling techniques. “Where are you from?” is a common question.
I reply, “New Zealand”.
After the briefest of pauses the reply comes, “the capital of New Zealand is Wellington”.
“Yes, that’s correct and you are very clever”.
“OK…I know the capital of your country……you buy from me now.” That may or may not be followed with “then I can go to school”.
Another technique is to say “what’s your name?” and then they follow me along saying “Joy, you buy from me…..Joy you buy from me”.
Some visitors are clearly irritated by the vendors and the beggars and I can see why because it is very wearying. Personally I think that these are just kids out trying to do the best for themselves and their families. I find it difficult to ignore them. I want to engage with them and sometimes I do.
Sometimes I buy. I’ve purchased many packs of postcards and some scarves. Far too many to send or bring home, but hopefully the donation helps some family because $1 is a lot of money here and that amount of money will probably allow a family of three to eat for a day.
One young boy waiting, hiding in the middle of a temple whispered to me to follow him and after several persuasive attempts I went with him. He tempted me with the offer of a good spot for a photograph. He was perhaps eight and said he had no mother or father. Although I had some difficulty understanding him, he launched into a history lesson on all the temples around him, pointing enthusiastically this way and that. His knowledge was clearly outstanding. When it came time for me to pay for the knowledge he wanted $10. He said “it’s for my school and they can only take $10”. He had several strong arguments, all aimed at tugging at my heart strings.
Many children out here beg. Temple guards sometimes chase them away. A couple of times I saw a mother get all of her children into a temple early in the morning. Sheer joy and satisfaction lit up her proud beautiful face.
I took the photograph of the little boy with the dog at Banteay Srei Temple. He was just sitting there looking very plaintive; his tiny dog snuggled into a crack in the stones. I stood and watched for some time and many people gave him things – some gave sweets, some wee books or pencils and some money. With every donation, he put his hands up to his face (prayer style) as a thank you. The second the visitor moved on, he quickly hid the money, out of sight, between the folds of his dirty cream trousers then waited, patiently, silently, for the next person to come along.
One young girl who was probably about 10 or 11 (the hat maker) wanted to sell me postcards. I could tell that her heart wasn’t in it as all the other children are unbelievably persistent. But she was lethargic. I went around the corner and sat amongst the ruins so I could have some quiet time and write in my diary.
She got up and hid her stash of postcards and disappeared for a time. When she returned I could see that she had collected a pile of large green leaves and some thin dry twigs. She took up a position just along from me and humming happily she used these rudimentary tools to construct a hat for her bald head. We laughed and laughed as she tried it on only to find it was too small. The moments we shared were precious. I asked permission to take her photo and she obliged so as I left I gave her one dollar but she wouldn’t accept charity, insisting instead that I take a pack of post cards.
Later I asked Cambodians why she was bald and was told of two possibilities. The first was that her head had been shaved so her hair could be sold to raise money. The other possibility was that one of her parents had died and so it was done as a mark of respect.
Of course these are times when the children should be in school. I asked many different people including the children themselves about school and received many and conflicting answers. I got the feeling that they were irritated at being asked such a question.
Responses ranged from, “no school today”, “I go this afternoon”, “the teacher is sick so no school” etc. I have been told that school is free but at other times told that there is a cost. Some say that when the family has enough money the child will go to school but if not they must sell goods to eat.
I am in conflict; do I give and allow them to eat or does my giving encourage begging but I have written about that in an different article.
It’s very likely that these children are the descendants of the kings or the people from this truly amazing period in their countries history. Yet they are forced to beg to live. These temple sites get over one million paying visitors to their ancient home. The order of things doesn’t seem right to me and I can’t help but think there must be a better way.
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