Cambodian women embrace ancient art of Khmer kick-boxing

With traditional attitudes thawing, and teenage girls increasingly showing up from the provinces, the number of female fighters is quickly growing.

Samjam photo / For the Toronto Star: Boxers like Yun Pala, 18, can earn more in the ring than men. 

By: Daniel Otis Special to the Star, Published on Sat Feb 09 2013

PHNOM PENH, CAMBODIA—As a reed flute wails, two fighters circle the ring, offering prayers to each side and corner. Bets are made in the stands. TV cameras roll. The bell rings, the women touch gloves.

Yun Pala starts the fight with a left hook to opponent Som Somnang’s jaw.

“I don’t think I’m the best,” Pala says, “but most of the time, I win.”

Pala, 18, has won eight of 10 televised fights since moving to the capital in June. She is one of four women living and training alongside male fighters at Club Odem, on the outskirts of Phnom Penh.

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“As soon as I could think, I wanted to be a boxer,” she says.

As she pummels a sand-filled sack hanging from a rickety beam, the aluminum roof rattles with each blow and startled chickens dart in and out of the open-walled gym.

Veteran kick-boxer Khum Peseth watches from the sidelines.

“This one,” he says, pointing to Pala, “is going to be very famous.”

When Pala works the bags again, her shyness dissolves into a methodical ferocity.

“I would fight every week if they’d let me. It’s not only the money — it’s my passion.”

Som Somnang

Cambodian kick-boxer

“I love boxing more than anything,” she says. “Nothing can make me stop.”

Cambodian kick-boxing (known as pradal serey) traces its origins to the martial arts developed during the 9th-century dawn of the Khmer empire. Today, it is Cambodia’s national sport, and a half-dozen television stations air weekly matches. Only one, however, regularly hosts women’s fights.

Somnang, 25, has been fighting professionally since Bayon TV opened its doors to women in 2006.

“I’ve loved kick-boxing since I was young,” Somnang says. “It’s the feeling it gives me: a mix of being nervous and happy.”

Twice a month, she travels more than 300 kilometres to Phnom Penh to fight. At home, she sells freshwater snails in her provincial market.

“I would fight every week if they’d let me. It’s not only the money — it’s my passion.”

But the money is decent. Women net around $100 per victory. Experienced male fighters (who are in much greater supply) battle for $80 purses. By contrast, many of Somnang’s peers labour in garment factories for just over $70 a month. Pala sends most of her winnings to her family, who watch each match from their village.

Somnang’s father was a kick-boxer, yet her parents considered the sport unbecoming for a woman. “At first, my family forbade me to fight,” she says. But Somnang persisted. “We have the same rights and we are equal,” she says. “You can fight, so I can fight.”

Noun Pirom, a Cambodian Boxing Federation (CBF) judge and referee, says women’s fighting has become very popular over the past year. “Having women involved in the sport is good for our organization,” he adds.

And the predominantly male crowds seem filled with wonder.

“They fight very well, just like the men!” one spectator says.

“Women are usually considered to be weak,” says another, “but here they are, fighting each other! I really admire them!”

About two dozen women currently fight at Bayon, Pirom says, and with traditional attitudes thawing, and teenage girls increasingly showing up from the provinces, their numbers are quickly growing.

Pirom speculates that with the new-found enthusiasm for the sport, other studios will begin airing women’s fights in the coming year. He also hints that the CBF plans to start licensing female coaches.

“Right now,” Pirom says, “it’s just like the blossom of the tree.”

For Somnang, however, one goal remains elusive.

“There are still no title matches for women,” she says. “I want to be the champion.”

Back in the ring, Somnang dominates the fight in clinches, kneeing Pala repeatedly in the gut. In the fifth and final round, Pala comes back with a flurry of fists and elbows. Her efforts, however, come too late — Somnang wins by decision.

The crowd erupts in cheers and curses. Money passes hands in the stands.

Dripping with sweat, Pala descends from the ring.

“I only had two days to train because I was helping my family harvest their rice,” she says. “Next time I fight Somnang, I know I will win.”

Freelancer Daniel Otis last wrote for World Weekly on the fate of Cambodia’s royalty.