Stepping off the boat after a wrenching 5 hour ride from Phnom Phen, I arrived hyped. Here I was, on the hallowed dirt of Siem Reap and almost within reach of the fabled Angkor Wat temples. The many months of logistical, topographic and spiritual preparations for the exploration of one of Man?s greatest archeological achievements would migrate from a state of dream and illusion into reality.

The next 2 hours flashed by in minutes as I sped into into town on the back of a rented moto-bike, threw my backpack into my room at the guesthouse and made straight for the ruins of Angkor Wat.

Camera and flim loaded? Check! Torch working? Check!! Has the GPS locked in on the 6 satellites in space circling Earth? Double Check !!! Hat and whip in place, Indiana ?Ed Ng? Jones stood tall and confident in front of the main temple with its towers reaching for a cobalt blue sky, with the theme to Raiders of the Lost Ark playing in his head, focused on this life-threatening journey into the wombs of an ancient civilization .

I felt a sharp murderous poke behind me?. A bead of cold sweat forms on my forehead?.would I face death before my quest began? Whipping around expecting a Nazi officer with his Luger stabbing into my lower back, finger tightening around the trigger?..

Instead, a pair of smiling dark eyes on the frame of a young Cambodian girl of no more than 6 looked up at Indy and asked

?You buy a flute from me Sir??
?No thank you?
?2 for 1 US Dollar only Sir?and they come with woven covers too?
?No,no,no, little girl, you see, Indy, I mean me, is going inside the temple?.later OK??

Without another word, I turned around and took my first steps back into time.

?I wait for you Indy, you promise you buy from me?? she pleaded in the background. ?Yeah, yeah, ok,ok ?? I waved and walked on without looking back.

Bullet holes were evident on the walls among the fascinating bass relief carvings of dancing Asparas, ancient carved script and other insignia as I checked my GPS bearings, maps and historical notes I had meticulously prepared months ago, thousands of miles away.

?Sir, here we have a classic example of the finest Khmer workmanship carved in sandstone sometime in the middle of the 11th Century during the reign of ??? it rattled of the top of his head very much like a leathered archeologist who?d spent most of his life living among and studying the fascinating legacy left behind by the ancients. A teenaged boy he was and at 4ft 6in his booming voice echoed along the stone temple walls.

The 14-year old walking history book, Jom continued with his uninvited but appreciated walking narration of the significance of different parts of the complex, its geographical orientation, the religious significance of their combinations and other numbers?..lots of numbers?dates, numbers of chambers, halls and steps, how many people once lived on its grounds, the numbers of priests, sub-priests and the king?s concubines?..

Was this for real? Hah! Jom sure picked the wrong customer to throw numbers around. He probably faked more than half of his statistics! I slowly flipped through my many leaves of carefully researched notes and compared them??

Well, OK, one or two of the dates were no-brainers?.hmmm, my fingers flew through my notes and still failed to catch him off. Not too bad for a bare-foot kid in rural Cambodia.

At 4pm, with the weather closing in, I made my way out of the temple grounds. Reaching into my pockets, with a look of archi-lust sated, I surrendered 2 dollars into the eager palm of Jom.

?Indy, wait!!! Take this as a souvenir of your visit to the temple!? A flute?.with a woven cover.

?Well?Jom?.I don?t know what to say?.Thank You very much!?

I walked out bathed in the warm early dusk light with a sense of accomplishment on my first day at Angkor Wat feeling smug that I?d came out alive, educated, enlightened, at peace and even helped a kid with a couple of bucks.

?hey?.mister?? a sweet little voice approached me in the parking area now swirling in golden dust, ?you promised to buy from me?and I waited all afternoon just for you only?

?and you buy from someone?oh?.?she whimpered, her eyes welling up fast without blinking in the dust. ?why don?t you like me???

?But, but, I thought there?re so many other tourists around that you?d ?.?

?you really don?t like me?..its OK mister?..I go now?..but still I wish you a good life and good health Sir. Please have a good holiday in Kampuchea (Cambodia)? she turned and started walking away??sniff?

?Hey! Hey! Come back now?.? , I pleaded, running after her. Damn, she really knew where to turn on the tap of guilt within this grunt who?ve been through the span of ground-level Indonesia, who?ve survived the cons of Patpong, who?ve walked out alive from the wolves? dens of Vientien and Orchard Road

?OK, how much did you say these cost? 2 for a buck? Give me 4? I sigh, defeated.

My heart jumped high into the heavens as she kept the money safely in her tattered dress, danced a little jig and sang a child?s happy song, thanking me again and again.

I kicked started the moto-bike and from 30 yards out spotted a little dust storm approaching, fast.

I squinted again and the engine died. ?Indy, Indy, Indy, wait for me, you buy a postcard from me? I have books!!! You need flim???? 20 screaming children holding t-shirts, postcards and whatever were kicking up a dust cloud making a beeline for me.

C?mon Indy, you can do it as I kicked the starter once, twice, three times and screamed down for my moto to come to life. VVvvrrrooommMMM!!!!!! I slammed into gear and shot away just before the first fingers reached me?.rounds of enemy fire with bullets of ?Stop Mister!You NEED these postcards!!!? and ?For you mister!!! This T-shirt for 2 Dollars!!!? flying by close over my head.

Indiana ?Ed? Jones, lives another day!

The End

Postscript: Cambodia?s children are special. The populace is in a general state of poverty and one will find many young ones taking on adult burdens of helping supplement the family income through peddling of handicrafts and visitor-related merchandise, often at very reasonable prices. Their cheekiness, intelligence, charm and smiles truly warmed my travel-jaded heart. ?Ed?.