Kaitlinjohnson’s Weblog

The hit film series, the Matrix, explored the existence of artificial realities in modern culture. In the movies, an artificial world has been created to satisfy the sensory needs of mankind. However, although the real world is not as satisfying to man’s senses and people must contend to choking down lumpy gruel instead of tender steak, the artificial world lacks depth and meaning.

In America, we’ve come to expect an artificially produced world. The sole purpose of much of our goods is to satisfy our senses.

Food is created using plastic and preservatives with the purpose of tasting good. In Las Vegas, giant replicas of ancient monuments are created to excite and delight tourists. But the food we eat is not very nourishing. The giant replicas have no other use than being delightful. And Americans have a harder and harder time understanding that something may have a greater purpose than simply satisfying our senses.

And as an American, Cambodia confounds me.

Here, cattle and chicken and rice are raised with the sole purpose of providing the hungry population with nourishment. It really doesn’t matter to a starving child whether food tastes good or not. Children rummage through the trash and eat what they find.

Angkor Wat, a massive stone temple that rises above the jungle, is Cambodia’s most famous attraction. Each day, Angkor Wat is visited by hundreds of tourists from around the world. The temple has been featured in movies such as Tomb Raider.  A saying, “see Angkor Wat and die,” boldly declares that you must see the temple before you die.

When I visited, in the early afternoon, the grounds were relatively empty. Only a few hundred tourists dared brave the midday heat. Traffic, I was told, would pick up towards evening when it is cooler.

The tourists, gathered from all parts of the developed world, explored the grounds with cameras in hand. Some followed the licensed Cambodian guides. Others, like me, wandered aimlessly. We looked at the walls, covered in apsara dancers and figures of gods and men, without knowing their meaning or history but delighting in them anyway. We took pictures of the rising turrets, the carved apsaras, the stair ways, the hallways, the headless statues of Buddha.

The statues of Buddha were dressed in orange cloths and decorated with tin foil. At his feet were offerings of fruit and water. Monks knelt and burnt incense and prayed.

Local people also wandered through the temple. They took their shoes off and prayed before the statues.   

After brief sprints of exploring, the hot sun led me to find shaded spots to sit and drink water. I found a lonely spot under a ledge where no one noticed me. I sat and wondered at my own emotion. I did not feel awed, like the monks and locals so obviously did. I wanted to feel awed by this place.  I wanted to feel its sacredness and to connect the stones that I sat on with the courts that had been held there and the battles that had been fought. But deep inside of me, it was hard to believe that the temple had ever existed for any greater purpose than to delight me in its enormity and to provide majestic photo ops. 

I knew this wasn’t the truth. I knew that whether tourists come or not, the temple still has a purpose. What does the temple care if I am awed by it? What do the monks care if I am pleased by their temple? I knew the temple has a use and meaning that is completely separate from me and that I don’t understand.

I can’t understand sacredness. I can’t understand it because I have come to feel that food is produced to taste good and temples are built for tourists. I’ve never really felt that food is meant to nourish and that temples are meant for religion, even while I’ve known it. For this reason I can’t really understand the importance of food or experience the sacredness of Angkor Wat.

I’m too used to the artificial to believe in reality when I see it.