Daughter of the Naga

Chapter 2

We arrived at the ancient city the next day. I stepped out of our rented pickup truck and shaded my eyes from the rising sun. In front of us stood a colossal mass of stone temples. Angkor Wat was its name.

A weird feeling took hold of my stomach. It was very surreal that I got to see this mysterious land for the first time.

There was a wide water moat with a long sandstone causeway. Overgrown tropical trees bordered the temple ground. Everything looked like a strange new world—or old world.

"Are you ready to explore now, Nikita?" Dad asked in a perky voice as I was still transfixed by the sight of this ancient architecture. The main entrance began with steps leading to a raised terrace. Giant stone lions on both sides of the gate guarded the monument. Other tourists already roamed around, snapping pictures of the sunrise over the temple.

"Don't we need a tour guide?" I asked.

"How come you underestimate me?" He pretended to look hurt. "Any question, just shoot. I can be your guide for free."

"Okay." I shrugged. "Bear with my killing curiosity then, Dr. Azarov."

Then we both marched towards the sun-drenched temple together. We passed the low balustrades holding a long body of serpent railing on each side of the stone bridge. The serpent was a multi-headed Naga. Their hoods opened like a Chinese fan. Five or seven heads stuck out from a single body.

"Did you know, Nikita," Dad asked me, "that no one was allowed to enter the sacred temple aside from the high priests and the emperor back in the day?"

"Oh, why?"

"The Egyptians built the pyramids for their pharaohs, but the Angkorians built their temples for their gods," Dad said. "The word 'Angkor' came from the Sanskrit word, 'Nagara' which means, 'Holy City'."

"How many temples did they build for the gods?"

"Over two thousand or even more than that. They spread all over the empire," he said and shrugged. "This medieval urban was one of the largest cities in the world, and while Europe was in the 'Dark Age', this civilization was at its peak of glory. The kings of Angkor always performed a ritual called Devaraja, so that they could become god-kings."

"God-kings? Wow." I was impressed by my Dad's knowledge. Back in the states, my history teacher would bore me to tears. The only thing that kept me from slipping into a coma in class was drawing, but that was because I knew almost everything and there was almost nothing about Cambodia. Luckily, I have an archaeologist as a father.

"Researchers still study about how this glorious empire suddenly collapsed," he went on. "There are many theories about it, but the exact reason why their civilization disappeared is still a mystery."

"Interesting," I said.

There was a series of towers, floral pattern-covered galleries, hidden chambers, porches, and courtyards on different platforms. There were even libraries next to the main temple. We went past the Terrace of Honor and the Hall of Echoes. The cold breeze held traces of Jasmine-scented incenses in the air.

Along the cold stone wall, there were carved rows of dancing women.

"Who are these women?" I asked Dad.

"The Apsaras," Dad said with a bright smile as if he'd been waiting for this question. "They represent the goddesses of dancing and music, also known as celestial nymphs in heavens. The Angkorians adored them to the point they carved over a thousand Apsaras on this temple alone, and the most mind-blowing things of all are that none of them repeated! Can you imagine that? Not a single face is the same!"

I studied the Apsara women, their elaborate coiffures, headdresses, embroidered outfits, and flowing jewelry. Their breasts were shown and worn smooth by the hands of tourists stroking them. I turned back to my father.

"With all these clothes, why are they still topless?" I arched an eyebrow.

"Well, they—um—they're special women—and—and—" Dad stuttered with a redden face then turned way. "I think we should move on, Nikita."

After a while, we reached another gallery, where Dad pointed at a seven-foot tall stone statue and said. "That's the statue of Vishnu, sweetie."

"Who's Vishnu?" I looked up at the smooth stone figure as we stood there. It was a male god with eight arms, holding different items in his hands, a conch, a discus, a lotus, a mace, but other items seemed to be missing.

"Vishnu is a Vedic supreme god," Dad told me. "Lord of the Cosmic Orders, Master of the past, present, future, and beyond."

"So he's the controller of time?" I asked.

"Also the controller of the human destiny," Dad said. "He holds the Book of Samsara."

"What is Samsara?"

"Samsara means 'the Circle of Rebirth'," he said. "Vishnu decides people's fate."

"Does he decide our fate, too?"

"Maybe," he said with a shrug. "Why did you ask that?"

"Well, I don't know," I said. "I just feel it's fate that I'm here now after all these years."

Dad stared at me for a long moment.

"You miss your mother." He patted my head before walking off.

As the afternoon drew to close, we began to feel hungry, so Dad and I took a rest at one of the tourist shops and had lemonade and sticky rice in bamboo tubes. He jokingly said that I didn't have to eat the bamboo unless I thought it was delicious. I thanked him for his wonderful advice. We sat under a straw-roofed cabana, gazing at the beautiful view and local people around us.

"So," Dad exhaled after a sip of his lemonade. "Do you want to see the mysterious spiral with me tomorrow?"