A Temple to Worship

Bayon is a complex of magnificent temples in lush tropical forests. As hordes of foreign tourists on elephant back ring the complex, we watch a team of Japanese restorers at work. Nep Phanara, their Cambodian assistant, says the Japanese have been in Bayon for three years. ‘‘We are taking an inventory of each stone of the collapsed towers so as to replace it in its original position,’’ he explains.

Later, I learn from P K Kapur, India’s Ambassador to Cambodia, that the Japanese are among 38 agencies currently working in Siem Reap. Germans French and American teams are also actively involved in restoring Angkor Wat too. ‘‘As far as I know, Cambodia has not offered the restoration of Ta Prohm to any other country,’’ says Kapur. ‘‘It will be a great learning experience for the Archaeological Survey of India.’’

In Ta Prohm, I understand why. Except for an approach path and some structural repairs, nature has been allowed a free reign in the 12th century ruins. Trunks and roots of fig, banyan and silk cotton trees have intertwined with stone pillars and terraces. This is nature in its dual role of destroyer and protector, for at several places, it is trees which hold up the temple structure.

I ask Nam Noeum, a Cambodian archaeologist, if he had heard India had been invited to restore the temple ruins. He says he had not, but is pleased with the news. ‘‘My advice to the Indian team is they should leave the trees of Ta Prohm as they are,’’ he says. ‘‘Tourists come all the way to see the 100-year old trees that have grown on all sides of the temples.’’

Back in Delhi, someone had said that restoring Ta Prohm would be like solving a gigantic jigsaw puzzle. It could not have been a more accurate assessment.

We head back to the hotel for lunch and head out to Siem Reap’s Central Market. Jewellery with gems from the famous Pralin mines, home to Khmer Rouge leaders, and woven silks are the best buys. Once the afternoon sun has dipped, we board the bus and make our way to Angkor Wat.

So have hundreds of tourists and locals and there is a picnic atmosphere at the temple complex. It is said that when King Sihanouk first visited Angkor Wat and saw the wide entrance passage opened up by the ASI, he had tears in his eyes. The India connection is evident even to the Cambodian children selling souvenirs near the moat. On seeing an Indian group, they point to the main structure and exclaim, ‘‘You Indians? That was done by Indians too!’’

Inside Angkor Wat, you look for tell-tale signs of what several experts, especially the French, called callous restoration by Indian teams which worked here from the mid-Eighties. The cemented facade of the Samudra Manthan gallery does stand out for its restorative style but we have no way of finding out the truth. Back in the hotel, foreign office officials say it was perhaps the lack of publicity about India’s efforts in Angkor Wat which created the controversy.

As testimony, I am given a book on Angkor Wat, written by India’s former Ambassador C M Bhandari. His version of the seven-year-long Cambodian assignment assumes importance in view of the Ta Prohm project. This is what Bhandari wrote, ‘‘The reality is that the ASI moved in to save Angkor at a time when no one else was prepared to do so due to political compulsions of the Cold War… there was no electricity, no health facilities, no communication with the outside world. The working conditions were extreme.’’

Nine years later, another team is headed for Ta Prohm for an equally challenging task. In the intervening years, Siem Reap has become an international laboratory for archaeologists. Clearly, nobody is taking any chances this time. Private consultants are being hired to work along with ASI experts and the documentation for the project has begun. India’s tryst with Ta Prohm’s ancient trees has begun.