Monk, Khmer Rouge

We had a good translated conversation with a monk today, but I don't know what kind of monk he was since he had plain clothes.  Maybe more like an elder.  But he was smart and asked about what mattered - how old we were, were we married, did we have a house, kids, brothers and sisters.  How long do most Canadians live and how long do we think we will live?  How did these compare to normal Canadians?  Was it like living in a refrigerator? 

A lot of the philosophy or judgment ones are a bit harder, since Tori and I make decisions maybe not entirely consistent with Canada as a whole.  He liked it that families have usually less than 5-8 kids in Canada, thought that was a better way to invest in children's well being.  He liked our life expectancy depends on how you live it, to an extent.  He's a wise 65 year old guy that probably thinks that despite different languages, climates and colors, that we had some pretty sensible thoughts, and likewise the other way around.  We told him we liked Cambodia and how everyone is so nice. 

After a few more hours of riding, we did a lunch in the grounds of a hilltop monastery under constant supervision of monkeys.  Within 2 minutes of arrival one already was making for the trees with Phea's water bottle.  I haven't been around monkeys other than zoos.  These ones seemed pretty well behaved for clever animals in the presence of tasty food, but I entirely get how in tourist areas or when by yourself in the jungle they can be about as fun as encountering a mexican street thug gang looking for some money to buy coke with.

They know males and females easily.  They know to defer to someone if they think not deferring will get them an ass kicking.  They don't like being humiliated in front of their crew.  They were tan/grey/white-ish ones where the biggest one was knee high and maybe 35lbs, most were 2/3rds that.  Eyes really close together.  If I was a monkey-ologist maybe I'd know what brand they are, but I only know non-useful stuff like do SRAM or Shimano bike parts weigh less, and probabilities of finding economic hydrocarbons in various parts of the WCSB.  I do wish I had opposable thumbs on my feet and could climb as adeptly as they do, man it's cool to watch.  A toddler equivalent monkey by all rights has the tree cachet to scoff at Olympic gymnasts.

Fortunately, we gave the cats and dogs our chicken scraps then had carrots and peanuts to hand to the monkeys.  They take them with dainty hands politely.  Some get greedy and grab your hand then try to get all them.  Pretty easily solved.  The young ones are more fun, they're less cunning and street wise.  They hold your hands and fingers and usually behave.  Basically they're pure entertainment, as long as there's the mutual understanding that you're boss and will open a can of whoopass in the blink of an eye if they monkey around too much. 

Tori and the animal kingdom get along under certain rules.  Docile Cambodian dogs who are to hot to bark or chase anything haven't been an issue.  Cows that sometimes are obstacles on paths aren't scary here, they're clean and mellow and not as big here.  Monkeys and Tori weren't on experimental grounds, she enjoyed watching.  No sense having them get riled up and go ape shit after all.

Back to non animal kingdom, after lunch we biked nearby to the mountains and temples and got our first glimpse of Pol Pot's handy work - monks had collected a giant pile of skulls and other bones and made a temple around it.  I think there's a lot of piles around the country too...