New Year Celebration Continues Ancient Traditions

On Sunday morning, thousands of Cambodian Americans with bowls of white rice gathered around the ornate Buddhist temple in Silver Spring, waiting to donate food to five red-robed monks. They were here, at the Vatt Buddhikarama, for the Dak Bat Lok.

Nearby, on a stage above the temple lawn, musicians in starched-white, brass-buckled jackets and black slacks struck the first Eastern chords of the roneat ek and tro. The music boomed over the temple grounds.

Along the driveway leading to the monastery, marinated meats sizzled on open grills, fish soup bubbled under flame, and bananas fried in deep steel cauldrons. Rich, sweet-smelling smoke shrouded the property.

Over the weekend, the Cambodian Buddhist Society on New Hampshire Avenue in Silver Spring hosted the annual Cambodian New Year celebration, a three-day religious event traditionally held in April. The New Year, which marks the 2552nd year since the Buddha's day of enlightenment, is a cultural and religious event that unites a dispersed community.

Sunday, the second day of the New Year festival, draws the biggest crowds.

“We expect two to three thousand,” said Sovan Tun, 68, President of the Cambodian Buddhist Society, which runs the monastery and temple. “It’s the biggest celebration of the year. These are our friends—our American friends.”

Each of the three days begins with the Dak Bat Lok, or the "feeding of the monks."

“They put the rice in the rice bowl...the alms in the alms bowl,” Tun said. "Buddhist monks were beggars. They must beg for food from the people."

"People offer food to the monks to pray to the Buddha," said Sowattey Sem, 26, of Sterling. "In return, people get back all the good wishes, happiness, and protection."

The Cambodian American community was formed in the early 1980s, when Cambodian refugees fled their homeland to escape a country ruined by the rule of Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge. Between 1975 and 1979, the Communist regime directly or indirectly killed an estimated 1.7 million Cambodians—one-fifth of the country's population.

Refugees settled throughout the United States.

According the 2006 American Community Survey, the U.S. Census Bureau estimates that some 4,500 Cambodian Americans live in the Washington area. There are roughly 200,000 nationwide. The largest communities are in Long Beach, Calif., Seattle, Wash., and Lowell, Mass.

The Cambodian Buddhist Society, said to be one of the largest Cambodian Buddhist temples in the United States, is also one of the few in the Mid-Atlantic region. That's why the New Year celebration draws crowds from Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, and New York.

“I don’t see that many Cambodians in school,” said Vorith Phlong, 16, of Damascus, Md. “This brings us together in one place.”

Others agree.

“Cambodians are scattered everywhere,” said Sam Man, 53, of Springfield. “In D.C. or at the mall or the store it’s hard to recognize who’s Cambodian.” This event, said Man, brings the community together.

For many Cambodian Americans, the New Year weekend a whirlwind of activity.

Sowattey Sem, a graduate student at Southeastern University, spent the weekend with her two cousins, Chanthou and Chettra, her nephew, Jonathan, and her sister-in-law Vantha. They spent much of Saturday preparing traditional Cambodian dishes.

"I cooked fried noodles and steamed fish," Sem said. "My family cooked a Cambodian salad with duck's foot called Ngoim Choeng Tea, and desert called Tape."

Saturday night, Sem and her family attended a fundraising dinner and late-night dance party in Falls Church.

Usually we don’t sleep on the night before, Sem said. “We’re up all night talking. It only happens once a year.”

Sunday morning, Sem and her family arrived at the temple early to feed the monks and prepare the food.

Serving food to the community on the New Year is part of the culture.

“On the Cambodian New Year it’s tradition to cook for the group,” said Chantha Beng, 47, of Silver Spring. Beng and his extended family manned a trailer-size grill hissing with marinated beef ribs. A hungry line wrapped around Beng's booth.

In other tents, families served noodles, rolls, soup, chicken, pork, rice, and fried bananas. Visitors meandered from tent to tent, tasting all that was offered.
As is tradition, the food is free to the community. “We’re not selling it,” Beng said.

“It’s pretty cool,” said Jasper Carr, 7, who was at the celebration with his brother, Bandith, 6, and their parents.

Both boys were born in Cambodia and adopted by Arthur and Libby Carr, 51 and 49.

Bandith is still learning to speak English, so Jasper spoke for them both.
“There’s lots of things that look so good that we don’t have at home," he said. "It’s way better than McDonalds.”

In addition to the food, venders offered traditional Cambodian goods from overflowing display tents: Sequent-studded, elephant-embroidered pillows. Traditional Cambodian shirts and dresses. Stacks of DVD’s in Khmer, the Cambodian language.

And snow cones and ice cream for the kids.

By noon, the crowd gathered in the auditorium on the bottom-floor of the temple. Backstage, young girls wearing sparkling gold necklaces over bright-yellow Av Noy, a tradition Cambodian dance dress, waited excitedly to perform.

When the music started, two dancers in ornate animal masks and blue and white sequent-studded costumes appeared under the lights. These were warrior monkeys, and this was the Monkey Dance. A well-choreographed battle ensued as the band bellowed from stage-right.

These ancient dances are taught by Cambodian American Heritage, an organization that provides cultural lessons in Arlington and Silver Spring.

According to Tun, the organization has 40 language students and 35 dance and music students. This is their biggest performance of the year.

For many Cambodian Americans, the New Year is more than a celebration, religious ceremony, or gathering of the community. It's also an opportunity to keep the ancient Khmer culture active with the next generation.

"Our goal is to provide the younger generation with the knowledge of our culture in hopes that this carries on the tradition," said Tun, the President of the society.

Devi Yim agrees.

"I want to keep my culture alive," said Yim, one of the Dance Master's who teaches dancing with the Cambodian American Heritage. "That’s why I do it every weekend.”

And many of the parents appreciate the cultural exposure.

“My daughter is dancing and learning to speak Khmer,” said Alice Alexander, 54, who's daughter, Anna Pidor, 3, performed on Sunday. “It’s a wonderful community,” she said.

Some of the young adults, however, have mixed-feelings.

“It’s a good gathering because people come from all over the East Coast,” said Chanmany Bam, 24, of Wheaton, MD. “But I don’t understand why. It’s a long way to travel to come to a temple, I think.”

Michelle Choeung, 17, of Falls Church, was more blunt.

“It’s awkward because I’m not that used to celebrating this culture,” she said. “I’m pretty Americanized. It comes at you really hard.”