A Head in Cambodia by Nancy Tingley

Author:Nancy Tingley [Tingley, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ohio University Press
Published: 2017-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

20

“They were lovely,” Martha said as she adjusted her foot on the stool the bartender had placed before her. She was relaxed and elegant in white, while we were grubby and dusty after our day flying to remote temples and charging through jungles. Well, the last was hyperbole. A hundred years ago, we would have had to cut away the growth from the temples. A hundred years ago, it took one month to cross the tiny country of Cambodia. Now, even at the most remote temple, we were besieged by children selling us scarves, small stone replicas of temple towers and Buddhas, and bamboo toys.

“One or another of the staff kept me company most of the day, and I learned all about their lives. Did you know that a large percentage of the population is under thirty?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to remind her that their elders had been killed by Pol Pot and his gang in the 1970s.

Courtney said, “I wonder where Barker is. I should go and get him.”

“I spent some time here in the bar. Drinking iced tea, of course. But it’s so pleasant. You feel as if you’re living in an earlier time.” Martha nodded contentedly. “I’m sure he’ll be down.”

“You’re right. And boy, am I thirsty.” Courtney sat down.

A waiter set water glasses on the low table and asked what we would like to drink. The lobby bar, with its potted plants and rattan furniture, recalled colonial rule, though now the windows looked over an enormous swimming pool rather than an exotic garden.

We ordered beer. All the way home we’d been fantasizing about beer, wondering what the best local version might be.

“I feel like I’ve crossed the jungle on an elephant,” said Courtney, fanning herself with her hat.

“That rackety helicopter was horrid,” said Philen. “And it was so dusty. I hope I never have to go on one again.”

We all looked at him. I hope so too, I thought.

“Was it marvelous?” Martha asked.

“Absolutely,” said P.P. “Early temples.”

“Jenna said the temples were on an early trade route,” said Courtney. “Wouldn’t it have been fun to follow the river that leads from those temples all the way to the South China Sea?”

“The Vietnamese might not have been too happy,” Philen said. “Swooping over the border in a helicopter. There must be some collective memory there of the American choppers during the war. They probably would have shot us down.”

Under his breath, P.P. muttered, “Oh, shut up.”

I agreed with him, but wished he would tamp down his anger. I opened my mouth, but Courtney spoke first.

“Seeing the ancient trade routes, even from the comfort of the sky, would certainly be interesting, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said. I was beginning to realize that the entire group had chosen to ignore Philen.

“There you are! You’re back!” cried Mrs. Jolly, taking a seat beside Martha and asking her solicitously, “Did you have a good rest?”

“Yes, very nice.” Martha turned to me as she patted Mrs. Jolly’s hand. “And we had such a lovely visit earlier.

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