"I don’t fear ghosts. I fear bad people.” No, this was not the film set of The Sixth Sense and I am not Bruce Willis, although we do share similar follicular features. This was Siem Reap, Cambodia, in the days before Christmas, when expectation had yet to give way to indulgence. And this was no place for indulgence, either. It was and still is a home to children – The House of Peace, Santepheap.
I first became aware of it while working in Singapore, a nation that has conquered many of Asia’s demons with discipline, order and a series of well-placed mops. A colleague who was passionately involved in “a project” made it known to me, yet in truth, I had barely registered much before bidding farewell to the Merlion, Singapore’s mascot, with one of those handy packs of tissues and heading back to Britain. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, it echoed through my mind until I found myself wedged into a low-budget aeroplane seat on my way to volunteer.
For most, this part of Cambodia is synonymous with Angkor – the ancient temple complex created in the glory days of the Khmer empire. It bestrode a beefy part of South East Asia briefly, ascending for a couple of centuries before peaking in the 12th. When the French unearthed Angkor’s ruined monuments in the early 1800s, its future as a tourist hot-spot of genuine magnificence was assured. Read the full article at The Telegraph.
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