Cambodian leaf blowers

Today I met a musician whose instrument brought me back here: a leaf player. The humble leaf can make a mighty beautiful sound in the hands of the right person, and four years ago I first heard the amazing melodies a good player can create.

I just couldn't get the sound of out my head all these years. Kind of like an Indian raga, but distinctly SE Asian, soaring way up high and then swooping down like a bird. Siem Reap has changed drastically over the past four years, but thankfully I was able to track down a leaf player at the Banteay Seray temple.

The leaf is not a traditional Khmer instrument, but played in recent times as a portable and readily-available option. Although, I was amused at the six or so leaves this player had in front of him, like harmonicas in different keys, or guitars with different tunings. Sadly, I didn't get his name, but he did let me give it a try. He curled one of the long edges of the leaf, and put it in his mouth and blew. Not so easy! I tried and tried, until I nearly passed out, and couldn't make a single sound.

Like many of the bands playing at the temples of Angkor Wat, this group of seven players are all survivors of land mines. They make their living playing at the temples every day, selling CDs and playing as soon as they see tourists walking by. One had his prosthetic leg standing behind him, a couple of them are blind, and several are amputees. It's one of life's many ironies that out of tragedy springs beautiful music.

In addition to the leaf, other instruments include a single-stringed fiddle that's bowed while held vertically on the knee, a wooden xylophone, a kim (looks like a small sitar), drum, hand cymbals, and a hammered dulcimer. They allowed me to record them, and said their wish for this story is to encourage people in the U.S. to come visit Cambodia. A crowd gathered around us, and three people bought a CD from them.

We decided to share with them the mbira, or thumb piano as it's called in the U.S. My travel companion brought one with her, and pulled it out to play for them. They'd never heard of or seen such a thing, and one of them tried it. He immediately matched the pitch of one of the keys to his kim, and I marvelled at the unversality of the language of music. We may not speak each other's language, but we all understand "do, re, mi . . ."