The next morning, I woke up with newly dawned sunshine painting a creamy crevice on the wall made fresh with a breeze streaming through the half-transparent curtains. I walked to the balcony to enjoy the early morning sunrise - something I haven’t experienced for a good while.
The fresh air enlivened my nostrils while coffee activated my gut. It was time for Angkor Wat!
Mr. Heng picked us up on time. Ashamedly, or not, we came to Seam Reap not to immerse ourselves in learning firsthand about the temple complex, but to use Angkor Wat as the backdrop for our ‘wedding photos’. DIY wedding photos in fact, but first, we needed to locate DIY wedding photo props, and luckily, we had found the right man to help us out, Mr. Heng.
We ensconced ourselves in the moto-buggy after handing Mr. Heng our ‘to-do’ list. First on the list was to find a make-up salon. Our knowledgeable driver soon delivered us to a main road hair salon.
Interrupting the proprietor’s morning, the young mother still hadn’t opened up, and her three half-naked kids running around still eating their breakfast, while the lady listened to our request via Mr. Heng’s translation. Forty-five minutes later and looking like a Khmer Barbie bride with ruby red lips and a typical curled Khmer hairdo, we paid and tipped in USD, as we did everywhere.
We proceeded to the next stop, a massive commercial market. Mr. Heng weaved his way around stationary cars, exhaust belching trucks, and countless motorbikes and other moto-buggies, but soon maneuvered us to the market.
Surprisingly, even Seam Reap has a morning rush hour. The corrugated roofed bazaar filled with stalls laden with daily necessities, bags, blankets, foods, and all kinds of clothes, was already in the midst of its morning rush.
We followed Mr. Heng with a brisk pace into the market, our eyes distracted by colors and patterns, almost feverishly looking for what we needed, a pure white Khmer style blouse to accompany my Khmer Barbie painted face. The colors of the women’s dresses were those of tropical royalty: bright yellow, red, pink, and purple.
Our guide-cum-translator-cum-driver, however, was feverish in his undistracted search for the prized white blouse and marched us through the caverns of merchandise till we turned a corner, and there we spied the Holy Grail of Cambodian bazaar blouse market stalls.
