Beng Mealea

Beng Mealea

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I will keep this entry short and sweet, in order to allow the pictures I took at Beng Mealea to speak for themselves. Beng Mealea is a temple complex located about 27 miles away from Siem Reap, where Angkor Wat is located. On our way back to Phnom Penh, we decided to pay a visit to these supernal ruins, more of which the jungle claims for itself as the crawl of time continues unabated. Although much smaller in size than the temples of Angkor Wat, the site of Beng Mealea is no less beautiful. Adorned In the snakelike roots and branches of banyan trees, and crowned by layers of moss and lichen, Beng Mealea is a living jewel and a testament to a great civilization that vanished from the earths crust over 600 years ago. 

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Although overloaded with visual stimuli, the members of our group managed to make time for recreation during our brief jaunt through the jungle. A few of us climbed our way up a veritable mountain of fallen stones which once served as a wall for either a temple or a library, although I forget which. I even fancied myself a swing from the branches of a tree, as the observant reader will have certainly noted from the above picture. The only member of our group that refused to frolic about the complex didn't want to see Beng Mealea in the first place, for reasons which continue to escape the authors feeble imagination. Our recreation, however, did not continue unblemished; for a casualty was suffered in our midst. In Siem Reap, I bought a couple pairs of elephant pants (of reference I refer thee to again the picture of the author on his swing). These billowy things are quite popular with women over here, and some men as well. When I tried them on, I found that they were so comfortable that I simply couldn't afford to go without them.

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However, made for women as they are, it was inevitable that something wouldn't fit quite right when worn by a man such as myself. Unfortunately, the area in question happened to be the crotch, which burst open in our play about the temples. Witnessing such cleavage, I had to bid my beloved pants adieu. Had the proper resources been available, the reader can rest easy knowing that they would have been subject to a funeral service fit for a king or a god. However, seeing as I had an extra pair of these elephantine garments, I saw no reason for such an elaborate gesture on my part and promptly threw them in a garbage can. 

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To read more of Dan's adventures abroad, click here!

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