Cambodia

You have crossed the mighty Mekong River Its busy banks, where a child plays happily inside a cardboard box His mother sells mangoes under the stunning sun The twelfth century temples of Angkor Wat Are nests of jungle jewels A Tuk Tuk ride away from Siem Reap A generation after the genocide by the Khmer Rouge The people are wreathed with smiles Go to Ta Promh temple, under siege by the jungle Strangler figs with roots like a Thugee's garrotte Pour over the crumbling walls. Go to Phnom Penh. Savour fish amok curry in banana leaf, Sample tarantulas, crunchy fried crickets with froglets, Red tree ants with beef and basil. In the lanes of Siem Reap, You may meet giant rats Trained to safely sniff out landmines, You may see Rehash Trash, Women weaving discarded litter Into colourful bags and homewares You will certainly see whole families Hanging together on a single scooter More sombre, is the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, Phnom Penh. Rooms displaying photographs of victims, Instruments of torture Human skulls Handiwork of the monster Pol Pot Who orchestrated the killing of 2 million souls Pol Pot's Cambodia was a slave state "To keep you is no profit; to destroy you is no loss' Those killed were buried in fields, to act as fertilizer Phnom Penh became a ghost city 25,000 Buddhist monks were massacred 300,000 Cambodians starved to death Pol Pot, like the Devil, came with many names Pouk, Hay, Pol,87, Grand-Uncle, Elder Brother, First Brother,99 and Phem. Telling a secretary, ‘The more often you change your name the better. It confuses the enemy.' This is an ancient land, withstands, survives See the Terrace of the Elephants, In the walled city of Angkor Thom The Terrace of the Leper King The Buddhist wheel of life goes trundling on