King's Codes

O, you good people

This work is composed according the Pali texts.

A treatise on the principle of dharma,

It is imperative that you take it as your duty

To be bound and to conform.

This dharma offers rules

To guide all living beings,

To ensure their success here and in the afterlife.

It is alive, it is immortal,

This dharma that constitutes a code

By laying bare the aspects of success.

Do not trust or solely rely on the foreigners,

Do not trust someone just because he appears to be an ascetic,

Do not trust a speaker just because he speaks movingly.

Stay observant in all circumstances,

Listen to your elders’ counsel and guidance,

But still, do pull yourself up and stretch your thinking.

Don’t just twist in the wind,

Do not think highly of the words coming from a fool.

Do not let yourself be entirely consumed with women,

Just like you don’t touch a deadly poison,

You do not become too familiar with a loose woman,

Do not become combatant when argue with ascetics and venerable people.

Still don’t be afraid to provoke an argument,

Do not stand to listen to loathsome words,

Nor should you listen to dishonorable words,

Do not go against bad omens,

Do not plant rice where elephants often passing through.

Stanzas 1-5 of Chbab Rajaneti (Moral Codes of Conduct: King’s Neti)

by King Sri Dharmaraja II (1628-1630)

A Lasting World

A forest with no animals, a nation without sages, a people with no religion, a home without young children, like a world deprived of the blazing sun, a world composed of these characters will not last.

Khmer Proverb 

Tum Teav: The Khmer Romeo and Juliet

Tum Teav is a Khmer tragic love story about a doomed affair between Tum, a handsome novice monk and Teav, a beautiful adolescent girl who was “literally” on the cusp of womanhood. Tum Teav is believed to be a real story. It is believed to have taken place in the late 16^th century in Tbong Khmom district, in present-day Kampong Cham province. Some writers refer to Tum Teav as the Cambodian Romeo and Juliet.
The story began in the rice farming district of Ba Phnom, Prey Veng province where Tum, the novice monk, feeling restless, decided to set out to sell bamboo baskets with his friend Pich, another novice monk, for their monastery. Their trip took them toward Tbong Khmom, a prosperous district in the neighboring Kampong Cham province. Along the way, both friends accepted requests from villagers to perform in exchange for food and lodging. Tum, who had a beautiful voice, chanted poetry and Buddhist sutras, while Pich accompanied him with the flute. Before long, Tum’s vocal reputation and Pich’s musical skills spread and words reached Tbong Khmom ahead of their arrival.
At the same time in Tbong Khmom, Teav, the daughter of a wealthy widow, was undergoing Chol Mlop (entering the shade), a rite of passage for young girls to undertake when they reach puberty. Chol Mlop begins at a woman’s first menstrual period. She is in the “shade”, which means the girl is confined to her house for a specified period of time (between three days to six months, depending on how wealthy her family is). During her confinement, the girl is taught etiquette and how to handle household finances and affairs; she is prepared to become a proper woman, wife and mother. At the end of her confinement, the girl is socially accepted as a nubile young woman and is readied for marriage. Our heroine Teav was “in the shade” when Nor, her maid, informed her about Tum and his beautiful, captivating voice. Teav begged her mother to invite the two monks to their home, which her mother agreed. Despite the fact that she was “in the shade” and not allowed to see a man, Teav was pacing back and forth outside the guestroom where Tum was seated, peeping through the crack of the door into the guestroom. By the time Tum finished chanting the dharma, Teav was in love, and she made no secret in showing her face to him throughout his stay at her home. And of course Tum noticed and was smitten. At the end of his stay, Teav asked Nor, who was a little in love with Tum herself, to give her pha-hom (a throw) to Tum as a token of her love.
Once all their bamboo baskets were sold, it was time for Tum and Pich to return to the monastery. During the journey back, deeply missing Teav, Tum decided that he could no longer remain a monk. He told Pich that he intended to ask the abbot of their monastery to disrobe him as soon as they arrived. Being a very good friend, Pich decided to do the same. When they arrived, the abbot rejected Tum’s request and told him to wait until the end of the year because he foresaw death in Tum’s future if he was disrobed then. However, he gave his consent to Pich. Consumed by a strong desire to be with Teav, Tum disrobed himself in the forest.
Tum and Pich returned to Tbong Khmom. The villagers welcomed them back wholeheartedly, Teav’s mother included. She invited them to stay at her home, which they accepted. Using Nor as a lookout, Tum continued his romantic affair with Teav behind her mother’s back. This happened regularly. Tum and Pich made their living by performing together in Tbong Khmom and the surrounding areas. Shortly after, their reputation reached the capital and the King sent for them to come and perform at the palace. The King was impressed with Tum and Pich and asked them to live and work at the palace. Also, it’s important to point out that by then Teav was out of “the shade” and, despite her protest, was betrothed to a son of the governor of Tbong Khmom.
Back in the capital, the King had ordered the palace officials to go out and search for the most beautiful girl in the country to be his royal concubine. As it happened, they found Teav, whom they thought well enough, and brought her to the King. Since this was the King, Teav’s betrothal to the governor’s son was nullified, and again, Teav had no say in the matter.
The King was pleased by Teav’s beauty and sent for Tum and Pich to come and perform for her. Afraid of the King, Teav could not explain her presence to Tum. Tum started singing, first lauding Teav’s beauty and then risked his life by going on to sing about their love affair and then scolded her for forgetting him, choosing money and power over true love. The King was furious and demanded an explanation. Tum confessed that he and Teav were lovers. The King then asked Teav to confirm it, which she did. The King married them right then and there.
Teav’s mother was upset and angry that the two were having an affair behind her back and her daughter was married to this lowly, poor singer. Upon her return to Tbong Khmom, she and the governor agreed to arrange a wedding between Teav and his son. To bring Teav back home for the wedding, her mother sent a letter to Teav asking her to come home, claiming that she was gravely ill. Instead of an ill mother, Teav was greeted by wedding preparations and forced to get ready for the ceremony. Teav was shattered and wrote a letter to Tum to explain the situation. Since this was back in the time when Khmer weddings lasted seven days, Tum and Pich arrived when the ceremony was still underway, with a royal decree in hand to stop the wedding.
Working his way through the wedding crowd, Tum did not use the King’s decree, believing in his own ego, and started to beg Teav, who was under heavy guard, to come out. When Teav couldn’t see him, Tum was sad and angry and started to drink and became drunk. Pich tried but could not stop him. After a while, Tum pushed his way through the guards to go upstairs to Teav’s room. Once there, he implored Teav to prove that she loved him still.
Not knowing about the King’s decree, the governor was furious at Tum’s audacity. He ordered his men to kill Tum. Pich tried to help Tum, but was beaten by the men. They then killed Tum and dumped his body near a bodhi tree not far from Teav’s house. Pich, who was hiding nearby, ran back to tell Nor what had occurred and where to find Tum’s body. Nor immediately told Teav about Tum’s death. Teav rushed to Tum’s body, pulled the knife from his dead body and slashed her own throat. She died on top of her husband’s body. Nor was unable to stop Teav and killed herself after her mistress.
Pich went back to the palace to report to the King. Not knowing that Tum neglected to pass on his decree to the governor, the King was enraged. Feeling his authority was challenged, the King went to Tbong Khmom with his troop. Once there, the King ordered the executions of the governor and Teav’s mother along with their immediate families, including young children. They were buried alive up to their necks in the ground. The guards then took the water buffaloes and yoked them to a large metal harrow and raked over them. Their relatives were made slaves for the next seven generations and those from the surrounding villages within the sounding distance of a gong were taxed in perpetuity.
As stated in the beginning, the tale of Tum and Teav is believed to be real. The events that happened in the story are believed to have taken place in Khmer history. The provinces and towns in the story do exist. The district of Tbong Khmom was noted to have a lot of slaves. Modern residents of Tbong Khmom have preserved items they believe belonged to Teav. Various historical texts over the centuries mentioned the story. According to one text, the Royal Chronicles, King Rea-mea Thipadei (circa 1641-1656), the same name as the King in Tum Teav, had two pages he favored considerably. One was a singer called Ek and another was a flutist called Tum. In Tbong Khmom the tale is known as Teav-Ek.
Teav-Ek was also the title used by Étienne François Aymonier in his translation of the tale. Aymonier was a French linguist who traveled all over Cambodia. His version was based on oral versions. All versions (and there are many) of the story are based on oral versions. These oral versions were performed by professional singers who traveled the country in the 18^th and 19^th centuries. These performances were usually accompanied by chapei dong veng (Khmer long-necked, two-string guitar). Aymonier produced his first translation of the oral versions in 1880 and dated it to the early 18^th century. He later investigated the source of the story by traveling to Tbong Khmom in 1883. The residents told Aymonier that the story was true. He learned that their resentment for being called the descendants of hereditary slaves was the reason it was strictly forbidden to tell the story in Tbong Khmom. For this reason, he was accompanied by French soldiers during his research. He was taken to locations where events in the story were alleged to have taken place. He included the information he gathered during this trip to supplement his second translation of Tum Teav, which was included in his Le Cambodge I, Le Royaume Actuel, published in 1900 and dated it to the mid-18^th century. Various researchers over the years had dated the story to anywhere between the late 16th century to the mid-18th century. Aymonier described the story as “historical drama”. In France the story was denounced by some critics at the time for featuring premarital sex.
In 1900, a version of Tum Teav, authored by a famous poet named Santhor Mok, was published. The work was incomplete. The writing was uneven and the text was not well received by other literary scholars. Shortly after, a palm leaf manuscript by a monk named Venerable Botumthera Som emerged as well. Venerable Som was born in 1852 in the farming village of Kamprau in Prey Veng province (Kamprau is bordering Tbong Khmom). Venerable Som completed his palm leaf manuscript of Tum Teav in September 1915. In 1935 another monk named Venerable Oum copied Venerable Som’s manuscript on a new set of palm leaf sheets. This copy comprised of 1050 stanzas, including a 39-stanza preface in which Venerable Som dated his manuscript and identified himself as the author, which caused a controversy. Most critics believed Santhor Mok should have received credit as well. Nevertheless, Venerable Som’s version was edited and incorporated into lower secondary school curriculum in 1957.
Tum Teav is probably the most popular story in Khmer literature. Except the ballet, the tale has been adapted into every medium imaginable, from comics to movies, from classical theater to folk musical theater, from radio dramas to songs (both pop and folk).
The following stanzas are taken from the text used in secondary school. The text was translated to English by George Chigas in 2005. They cover the scene after Tum returned to Tbong Khmom, following his disrobing.

Stanzas 414-423
Teav: You compare me to a flower,
While you are like a bumble bee
That flies around and spots the flower and enters straight away.
Afterwards, it doesn’t delay and is soon on its way again.
Tum: I am like the lion king,
While Miss Teav is like a large cave.
If the lion king has a place to live,
He will never allow himself to leave.
Teav: I am like a dock,
While you, so charming, are like a boat.
You are quick to park a while, precious one,
Then hurry away without a second thought.
Tum: Oh, I am like a large fish,
While you, young Teav, are like a river.
The fish that has large water swims leisurely from side to side.
Don’t dear! Don’t reject me or be suspicious.
Teav: I am like a tree,
While you are like a sarika bird that perches there every day.
You stop to perch and take shelter,
Then fly off at great speed to go to some other place.
Tum: I am like a tiger,
While you, dear, are like the jungle.
Usually a tiger doesn’t turn away quickly.
He avoids leaving behind his precious forest.
Teav: I am like a tree trunk used as a hive,
While you, handsome sir, are like the bees
That come there to live and fly off one day,
Leaving the tree trunk defiled and useless.
Tum: I am like an elephant,
While you, young lady, are like sugar cane.
Once the elephant tastes the sweetness, he never goes
Far from the sugar cane, dear.
Teav: Oh, dear sir!
Who would not be suspicious
Of the words of a man trying to show off his intelligence?
So don’t tell me not to be suspicious.

As Teav spoke wisely,
Tum had no fear at all. He grabbed Teav’s hand
And kissed her and says, “Oh, my dear,
Do you still doubt me? Do you still not believe how I feel?”

Sources:
Le Cambodge I, Le Royaume Actuel, Étienne François Aymonier (1900)
Tum Teav: A Translation and Analysis of a Cambodian Literary Classic, George Chigas (2005)

Num Krok: An Ugly Cake

Num krok is a popular street snack in Cambodia. It is a coconut and green onion cake. The cake is served with a Khmer fish-sauce dressing and a dose of coconut cream. There’s a lot of coconut in this cake. But first, a brief Khmer lesson:

Num = cake, and after the French arrived in the mid-19^th century, it also refers to any western treat that is made with flour. i.e., num pang is bread.

Krok = homely or drab, and it refers to the ugly appearance of the cake’s top. To hide that ugliness, two cakes are joined together face to face into a ball shape.

Num krok is cooked in a special terracotta clay pan. The pan has half-spherical molds. Amazon carries a cast iron version. I use a takoyaki pan because that’s what I have. You can also use poffertjes pan if that is what you have at hand. Remember, you’ll get a slight difference in texture when you use a cast iron pan than if you use a terracotta clay pan.

Batter

2 cups rice flour
2 cups glutinous rice flour
5 cups coconut milk
⅔ cup water
1 cup cooked rice (I used leftover rice)
1 cup sliced green onion, green part only
Enough lard to brush the pan

Fish-sauce dressing

½ cup fish sauce
½ cup sugar
½ cup lemon juice
⅔ cup coconut water
6 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
1 tsp finely chopped galangal (optional)
1 chopped bird-eye chili (optional)
⅔ cup coconut cream

Dressing: In a jar or bowl, mix fish sauce, sugar, lemon juice, garlic, galangal (if using) and chili (if using) together until the sugar is dissolved. Add coconut water. Mix, taste and adjust accordingly. Leave it aside for a few hours. Strain the dressing. You only need the liquid. You can throw away the solid.

Batter: In a food processor, add water and rice and process until smooth. In a large mixing bowl, add rice flour, glutinous rice flour and coconut milk and mix until smooth. Add in the rice/water mixture and green onion and mix until no clumps remain.

Heat the pan over medium low heat. When it’s hot, brush each mold with lard. Pour the batter to fill the molds. Let the cakes cook until the tops are almost firm and the outside are crispy and slightly brown. Carefully with a spoon, flip one on top of another to make a ball. Let each ball cook a minute more. Make sure to rotate each side of the ball once. When they are done, take the cakes out with a spoon. Brush the molds with lard and continue with the rest of the batter. Keep brushing the molds before you pour in the batter.

To serve: Place several cakes in a small bowl, add some dressing and top them with a teaspoon or two of coconut cream. Mix and enjoy. It’s best to serve them warm.

Note: if you don’t quite like the strong coconut taste, you can cut down the amount of

coconut milk in the batter. Just replace it with water instead.

Rose of Pailin

At that moment, coming from the East, Lord Surya, mounted on his

crystal chariot pulled by a thousand stallions, skirted Mount Meru,

axis of the world, and went to the West following the circle of the

constellations. When the chariot turned and was hidden by the

enormous mountain, the Lord’s brilliant light dimmed and came

the twilight.

So came the twilight of Vichet’s father but it was the dawn of Vichet’s life.

Vichet, called Chet, is the main protagonist in Kolap Pailin (Rose of Pailin), the

first Khmer prose novel. Kolap Pailin followed the story of Chet, who found

himself orphaned at the beginning of the story when his father passed away.

With a recommendation from the doctor who treated his father, Chet left

Battambang for Pailin, a gem mining town, to seek an employment with

Loueung Ratana Sambat, who operated several mines. Loueung Ratana

Sambat was a widower, who had a single child, a daughter of famed beauty

named Neary. She is the Rose in the “Rose of Pailin.”

Chet found the work as a miner a tiring one, but it’s an honest work and he

was in no way deterred by it. His fellow miners were very fond of him. He

greatly enjoyed the pristine nature of his new environment where the forests,

jungles and wild mountains mingled. But even more, he enjoyed thinking about

Neary even though she was a “pretentious young lady full of haughtiness, but

of great beauty, and she looked like a rose that blossoms by exhaling its

fragrance in the rainy season.”

And pretentious she was, the heroine of the story. Neary treated Chet like a

servant, which he was not. Even when she felt Chet was beneath her, Neary

was drawn in by his character, which could be a little humble at times, and a

little braggart at others. More importantly, she was attracted to his manliness.

As their interactions deepened, both found themselves falling for each other,

but still Chet did not believe that he had any hope, given that his social position

was far inferior to that of Neary’s. However, a time came when Chet

demonstrated his feelings for her during a trip out of town. He fought off robbers

and saved Neary and her father’s lives. He also took a stray bullet during the

fight. Near the end of the story, Chet also saved Neary from an attempted

sexual assault during a home invasion by a group of outlaws. He roused his

coworkers to fight and drive out the criminals. The novel ended with the couple

married and lived happily with many children to follow.

Kolap Pailin is a short story, about 90 pages long in the French edition. It moves

at a brisk pace, but its various characters are wholly fleshed out. The action

scenes contain little distraction. They move the plot along quite smoothly. The

dialogue is engaging. Written entirely in prose in 1936 and published in 1942,

it was considered to be the first modern Khmer novel, breaking from the

traditional verse-novels of the past. Though the writing was quite lyrical at times,

it was written in ordinary language, accessible to people from all walks of life.

And it was staged in a contemporary setting with ordinary characters that

belong to diverse strata of society. It set precedence for other novels to follow.

The author, Nhok Them, was born in 1903 in Battambang province. He studied

at the traditional monastery schools in Cambodia and later in Thailand. At the

age of fifteen, he was ordained as a novice monk but left the monkhood twenty

years later. He spent several years teaching Pali in Bangkok, where he

authored many books in Thai as well. He was involved in the early stage of the

Buddhist Institute in Phnom Penh and edited its literary journal, the

Kampuchea Surya. Nhok Them also wrote curricula for the Buddhist Institutes

in Luang Phabang and Vientiane, Laos. He was considered to be a great

translator of Buddhist Pali literature. He authored two Khmer novels, the

Rose of Pailin and the Malicious Love. Nhok Them perished during the

Khmer Rouge Era.

Mango: Fruit of the Gods

O, you honey-pilfering bee!

Greedy as ever for fresh honey!

Once, you lovingly kissed

The mango’s fresh spray of flowers-

And forgotten her? So quickly?

Shakuntala: The Ring of Remembrance (5th Century CE) by Kālidāsa

Mangoes have been cultivated in Cambodia since before 5th century BC,

but the fruit is native to India. Khmer mangoes are fiberless. And they are

just as good as those you’d find in India. There are a few dozen mango varieties

in Cambodia, the most prized variety is svay keo chin. Svay is the Khmer word

for mango. Keo means glass/crystal and it refers to the majority of mango

varieties as well as women because of their exquisite shape and curvature.

My personal favorite is svay khos rdauv (out of season mango) and just

as the name implies, this particular variety bears fruit out of season.

svay khos rdauv

Recalling Sita

Ramakerti is a Khmer version of the Sanskrit epic Ramayana. There are two Khmer

versions. The first version, Ramakerti I, was composed in the 15th and 16th centuries.

This early version included the story of Hanuman and Mermaid Sovan Macha.
Ramakerti II, also written as Reamker, was composed sometime in the

18th century. This second version featured the story of Ravana’s previous life:
The Yaksha with the Magic Finger.  

I recall your hair, black and thick,

And you, your arms up round it,

Braiding it with flowers,

Adding further garlands,

All kinds of flowers round it.

I recall your forehead

Shining like the gold of a candle holder,

Like the full moon

Whose brilliance is visible to the whole world.

Pan cam kesi pi khmau nap

Pun krasop cap can nuv phka

Kaem cuot pruot mala

As phka saraboe bhni

Pan cam na thnas

Pi tuc babil mas man nai rasmi

Tuc brah candr ben ta purnami

Lok yal banli krai

Stanzas 1758 and 1759 of Ramakerti I (15th-16th centuries)

Composed in Pad Bol (Narrating Metre)

Transliteration by Judith M. Jacob