...but different

The sunrise tour through Angkor Wat starts at 4 AM. At the same time, a marathon is taking place in Siem Reap, and the bus must weave its way through crowds of runners. Completely sleep-deprived, I peel myself out of the chair. In my newly acquired elephant pants, I look like I’m still in my pajamas. The lightweight pants with elephant patterns are practically part of the backpacker uniform here. Yesterday, I had sent all my clothes for laundry, including all my long pants. However, those are required for the dress code at the Buddhist temples, so I quickly decided to buy a trendy pair at the night market for $3. While I am well equipped for a tour of the Khmer ruins, I am actually too dog-tired for it after only 3 and a half hours of sleep. I try to keep both eyes open while I make an effort to keep pace with the group in the dark. Antonio from Ecuador, with long black curly hair falling on his bull neck, is the complete opposite of me. He just landed in Cambodia yesterday and has only slept for an hour and a half, yet he is clearly full of energy. With great effort, I try not to show my incredible fatigue and respond monosyllabically to the small talk conversation he initiates about countries he has visited and planned routes, etc. Like in a dream, I walk over the bridge of the water moat and then through the massive gate, to stand before a huge area where the massive temple complex is located. Our guide gives us some rudimentary background information in a strong Khmer accent, of which only a fraction penetrates my fragile consciousness. After a few minutes of free time and photographing the sunrise, we are supposed to reconvene at the meeting point. Shortly afterward, I inevitably find myself lined up with Antonio and the other tourists at the picture point in front of the pond, which offers us a clear view of the ruins. Now it dawns on me, as it does behind the temple, why Antonio chose me as his companion for the tour: I have to play the Instagram boyfriend and take photos of him.

The procedure repeats at every spectacular backdrop at the four other temples we visit that day. He offers to take pictures of me - an offer I halfheartedly accept - and I stand in front of the stones with bleary eyes. He then poses, once looking towards the scenery, once towards the camera. When he is not satisfied with my work, he shows me how to set the focus properly so that he and the background stand out best. I learn 'on the job.' Laughing to myself, I think that he couldn't have recruited a more untalented photographer.

After the breakfast break forced by the rain - 'No good pictures with rain.' - I am thankfully fortified and stick close to an American couple who will be teaching English in Hanoi. Meanwhile, Antonio has taken advantage of our guide's services, who willingly takes photos of us and is almost offended when we fail to appreciate and notice one of his touted photo stops. The highlight of our Ecuadorian group member's influencer existence unfolds at Ta Keo. We stand before the temple pyramid, and he awkwardly instructs our foreign guide to film a video of him. He approaches the steps of the ruins while grinning at the camera, spreading his arms with an umbrella in hand and shouting, 'Welcome to Cambodia!'. This one-man show would be quite amusing if Antonio didn’t otherwise wander aimlessly around in search of more photo opportunities. He often fails to keep up with the group. Then someone has to run back through the temple labyrinth to call him. When he is not punctual at the meeting point, our guide has to go searching for him, and we are sent back to the bus, where we must wait half an hour for him. At the last temple, he pulls a Polish move. Our guide tells us that Antonio took a taxi back to Siem Reap. His next flight is in the afternoon. And thus the incarnation of a bucket list globetrotter disappears. They are always just passing through. A full day at Angkor Wat would be a waste of valuable time that needs to be spent checking off more hotspots from the list. The Buddha faces smile contentedly from all four sides of the towers of the Bayon sanctuary. They are freed from all earthly needs.

The next morning, I am back on track for the second day of our tour, which starts at 10 AM. This time, three Swiss join the group who are doing volunteer work as dentists in the Cambodian countryside for their university project. Appropriately, they are all dressed in matching white 'Angkor Wat' shirts. When they talk to each other, it sounds like it’s in slow motion: 'Desch feels like ä künschtlicher Park, aber ichscht voll Natuhr, wäichst was i mein.' I can't help but smile, but I couldn’t have described the symbiosis of forest and hidden remnants of human creativity any better either. The geometric forms of the temple complex and canal systems are still present, but at the same time, nature has reclaimed everything.

With enough sleep and filled with YouTube knowledge about the Khmer and Angkor, I bombard the American couple with facts about the elaborate reservoir systems that meant both the rise and fall of the Khmer, women in military and administration in the Angkor Empire, and the two most significant rulers of the empire, Jayavarman VII (1181–1218) and Suryavarman II (1113–1150). As is often the case with Americans, I can’t tell if they are genuinely interested in my newly acquired knowledge or if they are annoyed by my know-it-all attitude, and all 'interestings' and 'fascinatings' are just facade. In doubt for the defendant, I think, and provide context whenever the opportunity arises.

At the last of the six temples, I of course let the couple enjoy their sunset. I meet Roshni from Northern Ireland, who completely missed her sunrise tour yesterday, but has now found a great spot for the sunset. Behind us, a storm clouds over the ruins of Angkor Wat, passing just a few hundred meters away. In front of us, the sun sets in one of the huge reservoirs, to our north it’s lightning, and behind us to the south, a double rainbow forms. Three weather phenomena at once. When the groups of people, mesmerized by the fiery sky in the west, collectively notice and glance over their shoulders toward the rainbow, a murmur goes through the crowd.

Back in Phnom Penh, I use my Tuk Tuk app at nightfall where I can. Better safe than sorry. Some drivers have made their little taxi cozy and have small plants and bonsais sitting on their dashboard.

When I find myself indecisively standing in front of the bus the next day, the Vietnamese driver signals me with vigorous hand gestures to enter. 'One, two, three, four, five, six!' he militarily indicates my seat number. The tone grows harsher. Soon I’ll be in Saigon and leaving Cambodia. A Southeast Asian country similar to its neighbors, yet still unique. Similar and yet different…