SOUTHEAST ASIALuca De Giorgi and Lara Briz

To our parents.

Copyright for the entire content by Luca De Giorgi and Lara Briz. This book’s content may not be reproduced or copied in any form without the written permission of Luca De Giorgi and Lara Briz. All rights reserved.

Copyright: © 2016, Luca De Giorgi, Lara Briz.Version: 20170220

Authors: Luca De Giorgi Lara Briz

www.thepeanutblog.comlbbldg@gmail.com

SOUTHEAST ASIALuca De Giorgi and Lara Briz

6

p27 SEENIGAMA DEVILAYA

p9 ThE DAMBATENNE TEA PLANTATIoNp17 TRAIN To ELLA

p75 FISh MARKETS

p63 STILT FIShINGp53 26-DEC-2004

7

p237 KAwAh IjEN

p73 VIETNAMESE IMPRESSIoNSp85 ChAu DoC RICE hARVEST

p125 ThE FAIRYTALE CITY oF hoI AN

p105 A BAhNAR ChRISTMAS

p135 REuNIFICATIoN ExPRESS

p209 ThE CoBRA

p221 BuTTERFLIES

p167 APING huNTINGp181 YANTRA TATToop195 CoCK FIGhTING

136

137

YANTRA TATTOOSiem Reap, Cambodia

january 28, 2015

138

Far out in the dusty hinterland of Siem Reap, in a makeshift bamboo hut, lives Mr. Sa Reun – one of Cambodia’s last yantra tattoo artists. This dwindling traditional form of tattoo saw a resurgence during Cambodia’s savage civil war as it is very much about protection. Now, it is again a disappearing tradition; the new generation prefers tattoo artists from the cities who use modern techniques and new designs.

we read about Mr Sa Reun in a blog article and the author puts us in contact with a local guide, Mr. Vin, who organises a trip for us. A few days later, we are in a car with Mr. Vin,

speeding west from Siem Reap. on both sides of the national road, rice fields stretch off into the mist, punctuated by palms and bushes. The harvest was weeks ago; the fields are now dry and brown.

we leave the main road and enter a maze of red dust tracks; we soon stop at the home of Mr. Vin’s uncle, who will lead us on from here. he takes the wheel and carefully drives the car down the bumpy road and further into the countryside.The houses along the road become simpler and poorer; eventually, after three hours of driving, we stop in a dusty neighbourhood. we are led to a small piece of

139

land covered with dry grass. we see a simple bamboo hut and a bamboo grove; a few mats are spread out in the shade. here we are greeted by Sa Reun, his wife, and their son.

Left: Sa Reun waits for us in front of his hut along with his wife and son. A curious neighbour is here, as well. We are fascinated with by the unusual character of Sa Reun. It is difficult for us to guess his age; he is skinny and weathered and his body is scored with lines and tattoos. However, he has a friendly face that makes us feel comfortable right away. We sit and listen to his stories with the help of Mr. Vin, who translates for us. LDG

Above: Sa Reun displays his utensils: a long red bamboo stalk with two piercing needles affixed to one end, ink, oil, some yellow thread for tying new needles onto the stick – and his notebook of tattoo templates. LBB.

140

Above: Listening to Sa Reun’s stories, we discover that he learned his trade more than thirty years ago – from another tattoo master. At that time, he was a young soldier who had fought for two decades in the Cambodian civil war. He was never wounded, thanks to his tattoos and their protective power. He is so proud of this that we can’t help but smile and agree. LBB.

141

Above: Not only Sa Reun’s tattoos, but the whole situation, seems extraordinary to us. Sa Reun’s wife, who sits quietly behind him, wears a thick layer of white make-up that reminds me of a geisha.This surprises me very much, given the extremely poor conditions in which they live. One of the boys from the neighbourhood who has come to watch wears a unique outfit: a big golden medallion hanging around his neck, a golden shining watch, painted nails, and fashionable underwear which comes up above his pants. LBB.

142

143

144

As with most Cambodians, I find it difficult to guess Sa Reun’s age; despite looking quite worn-out, he can’t be much older than fifty. he takes off his battered military shirt to reveal a wiry torso, covered with tattoos. he shyly smiles at us and bids us to sit down in the shade. I notice that his wife, who sits behind him, wears thick makeup. In light of the desper-ate conditions they live in, this surprises me very much. I wonder what Mr Vin, our guide, has told them about us; I hope their expectations aren’t too high. Sa Reun starts by showingus his tools, which are extremely primitive. They consist of a long bamboo stick with two nee-dles tied to one end, a bottle of black Thai ink, and a special oil for lessening the pain of being tattooed. The stick is dipped in the ink and re-peatedly thrust into the flesh, putting the colour under the skin.

Vin translates for us that Sa Reun has been practicing the art of tattoo for thirty years. he learned it from a tattoo master near the Khulean waterfall, where some of the stones used to build Angkor wat were quarried. During the beginning of the Cambodian Civil war, Sa Reun was a young soldier. he fought with vari-ous factions for two decades before joining the forces of hun Sen, with whom he fought until the end of the war. he tells us he was never wounded and looks down proudly at his tattooed body. he says this is because of the protection of the yantras. Vin adds to the translation that there was probably also a lot of luck involved, and laughs.

Sa Reun also tells us about a related art – that of creating auspicious drawings for new houses and other buildings. Similarly to yantra tattooing, these re also tied to Buddhism and serves as protective charms for buildings. These drawings are made on red or orange cloth (the same cloth used to create the monks’

robes) and hung in new houses. Vin translates their powers into English as “magic” and tells us the imposing temples of Angkor could only have been built with this same sacred magic.Sa Reun only makes two kinds of auspicious drawings on cloth; we ask him for one of each. he carefully cuts a rectangular stripe of orange cloth and draws the pattern with slow and me-ticulous movements. I am surprised thathe uses a common Edding marker. I was ex-pecting something less ‘western’; however, I remind myself that what counts is not the physi-cal drawing, but rather the power infused in it by the artist’s prayers.

145

Above: Sa Reun tells us he not only makes yantras on skin, but also on the red and orange “monk robe” cloth. These cloth-yantras serve as protective charms for a buildings and feature geometrical patterns similar to those in the tattoos. LDG.

Previous page: Sa Reun tells us about his life and work and soon displays what is probably his most treasured possession: a cheap notebook in which he draws all of his designs. It is fascinating. We look through pages and pages of prayers written in abstract or geometrical patterns and see animals like monkeys, tigers, snakes, and birds. Some of the drawings are incredibly beautiful.They mostly feature fantastic creatures and symbolic animals imbued with spirituality and mysticism. They are all annotated in Pali, an old language only used in religious and magical contexts. Sa Reun shows us some of the tattoos on own body that are written in this magical language. LBB

146

Above: Sa Reun carefully cuts a rectangular strip of orange cloth; with slow and meticulous movements, he draws a pattern for each of us. There is something bizarre in this scene: he uses a common Edding marker to make an object of such spiritual power. We sit and observe how he draws, silent and solemn, until the pattern is completed. Only then does he lift his head to us and smile. LDG.

147

Above: Once the drawing is finished, the consecration ceremony takes place. Sa Reun carefully folds the piece of cloth and conducts the ritual by whispering a prayer to it and rhythmically moving his body. He is totally concentrated on this prayer and is unaware of us until it is finished. Then, he gives us the cloths and advises us to keep them always with us – or hang them in our homes. LBB.

148

when Sa Reun finishes drawing, he carefully folds the cloth and raises it to his lips. he chants a prayer and rhythmically moves his body. he is consecrating the drawing and imbu-ing it with power. while we watch this strange ritual with eagerness, the others are less im-pressed. his wife chats with a neighbour, Vin checks his phone, and the boy fools around and makes noise. I don’t know what to make of it: are they being rude as my western perspective leads me to believe? or, is it really not neces-sary to show composure at such an occasion?

Finally, Sa Reun finishes and proudly presents us with two cloths and two roots of a special grass. he advises us to keep the cloths with us always or hang them in our homes in places of honour. They will act as shields against evils of both natural and supernatural origin. Sa Ruen tells us he has tattooed an un-countable number of people in his life: mainly soldiers, monks, and (recently) some policemen. Nowadays, he practices his art less and less. There is no demand for it anymore. he still makes auspicious drawings for local people when they build new homes, but reverted a long time ago to fishing as his primary sourceof income.

After a few hours in their company,we leave Sa Reun and his family and drive back from this deep Cambodian hinterland into Siem Reap. It was easier to believe in the power of yantra tattooing outside the city. however, here with the legions of eager tourists crawling over the ruins of Angkor, I find it increasingly diffi-cult. Then, I take out the orange piece of cloth and gaze once more at the strange patterns Sa Reun drew on it and put in my wallet – as he had recommended. You never know, after all.

149

Above: At the end of our visit, Sa Reun shows us his house. It consists of a simple room set on bamboo poles. Inside, mats are spread on the floor; some cooking utensils are piled in a corner. This is not the poorest house we have seen, but this is the first time I have gotten to know the people living inside. I think of how many interesting life stories the people we meet must have. These stories and experiences go beyond their humble appearances and material possessions. Dreams are not determined by the size of a house; as we have seen, they even fit on a simple stationary sketchbook. LBB.