Angkor Wat

Hello there. Can you guess who I am? I am a city made of stone, hidden deep in a green jungle where the air is warm and sweet. All around me, cheeky monkeys chatter in the tall trees and colourful birds with bright feathers fly through the sky. A huge watery moat surrounds me like a giant, shiny mirror, reflecting the big blue sky and fluffy white clouds. My five tall towers reach up, up, up, like giant stone lotus buds just about to bloom. They are my crown. If you look closely at my walls, you’ll see they are covered in beautiful carvings. These pictures tell amazing stories of brave heroes, dancing figures, and magical creatures without using a single word. It’s like a giant storybook made of stone. I have been waiting here, sleeping in the jungle for a very long time. My name is Angkor Wat.

A very long time ago, nearly 900 years ago in the early 12th century, a great king had an amazing idea. His name was King Suryavarman II, and he was the leader of the powerful Khmer Empire. He looked at the land and said, "I want to build something magnificent. A special home for the Hindu god Vishnu, and a temple so grand it will make everyone gasp in wonder.". And so, the big work began. It took thousands and thousands of people to build me. Everyone worked together as a giant team, from the quarry to the jungle. Strong elephants, gentle giants of the forest, helped too. They used their powerful trunks to pull giant blocks of sandstone from a mountain far away. Then, workers floated the heavy stones down a river on big rafts. It was hard, sweaty work under the hot sun, but everyone shared the king's big dream and worked with pride. The builders and artists were incredibly clever. They carved my walls with so many pictures, my whole surface tells a story. If you walked along my long hallways, you would see brave heroes fighting epic battles, graceful dancers called Apsaras with beautiful smiles, and scenes from ancient myths about gods and demons. My walls are like a giant stone storybook, telling the tales of the gods and the glory of the Khmer people for everyone to see, forever and ever.

For many years, I was a busy place, a grand home for the god Vishnu. People came from all over the empire to visit me. But as time went on, things changed. I became a special place for Buddhist monks. Instead of grand ceremonies, my halls filled with their peaceful, quiet chants. They walked my long corridors in their bright orange robes. Then, for a long, long time after that, the jungle decided to give me a big, green hug. Giant tree roots, like strong, twisty arms, wrapped around my stone walls. Vines climbed my towers, and a soft blanket of green moss grew over my carvings. It was very quiet. My only visitors were the monkeys and the birds. I wasn't lost. I was just resting, keeping all my stories safe until the world was ready to hear them again.

The local people always knew I was here, sleeping in the jungle. But one day, in the 19th century, explorers from far away countries found me. They could not believe their eyes. "A magnificent stone city in the jungle." they exclaimed. Soon, the whole world heard about me. Today, people from every corner of the globe come to visit. They watch the sunrise paint my towers in shades of pink and gold and feel a sense of peace. I am a bridge to the past, a reminder of what people can create when they share a big dream. I hope one day you can visit and let me whisper my stories to you.