On the one hand, Phnom Sampov is a quaint and quiet little village. And on the other hand, it gets thousands of tourists every week. The explanation is simple: bats. Every evening at sunset, millions of bats depart their cave, and fly off for their night on the town. And people come from all over to witness their grand exit. So, since we were in the neighborhood, we naturally had to join the throng of gawkers.

The bat cave, which is off limits to two-legged mammals, is in the side of the mountain, which is also called Phnom Sampov, or Phnom Sampou or Phnom Sampow, depending on what source you consult. (Phnom is Khmer for mountain or hill — as in Phnom Penh, “Penh’s Hill”.) Next to the cave entrance are some sculptures embedded in the side of the mountain, a sort of mini Cambodian Mt. Rushmore, including a seated Buddha and the obligatory reclining Buddha.

The reclining Buddha is a motif you’ll see in Buddhist iconography everywhere. It represents the Master, always on his right side and always with his head propped by either his hand or a pillow, on his deathbed. But not to worry, his face has a serene look, because he knows he’s about to enter the Blessed Afterlife.

Where’s Waldo … err Dennis?

There are other likenesses of Buddha, and other figures, in various states of disrepair, on the mountain. And since we’d arrived a couple of hours early for the bat show, we decided to hike up the mountain to check out these old structures and sculptures, including the three pagodas that are still operational.

Monkey Territory

One thing we hadn’t counted on seeing was the monkeys. But there they were, eagerly welcoming us, perhaps in anticipation of receiving a handout. Monkeys are always a delightful surprise to us, though in places where they are common, people seem to regard them as pests — which they certainly can be. We saw one of them sneak up to one of the vendor stands on the mountain and swipe a bag of junk food, then retreat to the treetops to savor his stolen feast as the vendor chased after him with Khmer curses.

The monkeys also made themselves at home in the pagodas, where monks and devout Buddhists came to pray. They (the monkeys) even occasionally pilfered the sacred lotus blossoms that were left in the pagodas, and played with them.

One mama monkey was carrying around a baby that was obviously dead. At least it was obvious to us, though the mom didn’t seem to have figured it out yet. But she would pick up the little thing and its head would dangle lifelessly. We wondered how long it would take her to catch on, and what would she do with the baby when she did.

After we’d spent some time marveling at monkeys and pagodas, and the locals who tended and attended the latter and scorned the former, the sun was beginning to go down, so we headed down as well, to stake out our spot for viewing the bats.

Sunset, Cue the Bats

The most comfortable viewing spots — i.e., the ones with actual chairs — were reserved for the clientele of the makeshift dining establishments that lined the street in front of the cave. Caterers would set up their vending carts, and place some chairs out for people who bought their food, providing the bonus of a good vantage point for a show in the sky.

While we were waiting, we made a list ranking the volunteer positions, from most favored to least, that we’d worked at on the tour that was about to conclude. This list did not yet include our current and final gig. (It was later put into the number 10 slot, bumping the others down — otherwise the only change was that numbers 2 and 3 were switched.) Our criteria included not only the position itself, but living conditions, location, and overall experience.

Soon enough, dusk came, and then, right on cue, the bats began to filter and flitter out of the slit in the side of the mountain. At first just two or three of them. And then a dozen or two. And then, suddenly, after those trailblazers had ascertained that the airways were clear and safe, hundreds and thousands of them rushed out all at once — all staying on a rather narrow track, headed to some destination or other.

It was indeed a sight worth going out of your way to see, especially since the admission to the viewing area was only 2 dollars per person. And since it was in our back (or more accurately front) yard, we decided that we’d just have to come back and do it again. Which we did on the very next day.

1/29/2023