Planning applications

The first field trip today with the APSARA Authority turned out to be a planning inspection. We visited two very different sites, where families living inside the Angkor Archeological Park had applied to build new houses.
To protect monuments from sprawling development, APSARA has banned new house-building in the park unless it replaces an old house. But the indigenous population of 120,000 is growing fast and unauthorised houses are sprouting up like weeds. Planning applications – often made late if at all - are running at about two a day.
Our guides for the morning were an archeologist and an architect from APSARA's Department of Land and Habitat Management. We drove north of the ancient city of Angkor Thom along a dirt track to the village of Nokor Kroa (meaning “Outside the city”, apparently it dates from the eviction of citizens who had brewed alcohol inside the city walls, the scoundrels), and stopped at a house on the outskirts of the village.
A line of four young children guarded the entrance to a low, single-roomed hut, set on suspiciously new-looking two foot high posts in a scrappy field of young banana trees and litter. The family said they had lived there for 15 years. “I don't believe them, the trees are young and I heard they moved here recently from their parents' house,” said the archeologist. The dwelling looked poor and disorganised, and the parents seemed anxious about our visit. A stack of new 10 foot high concrete foundation posts stood behind in readiness for the new house.
“Their house is already illegal and I think they cannot stay here,” said the archeologist. “But I expect they will build the new house anyway and then it is a matter for the police. But it is very hard for them to move people,” she said.
APSARA is planning a new sustainable eco-village at Run Ta-Ek to absorb the overflow from more than 100 park villages, but it's years from completion and will be small, housing only 850 families. In the meantime, this family of six would have to carry on sharing their illegal single room.
The second visit was more upbeat. The family was a bit older, more relaxed and seemed proud of their home. The parents had lived there since 1979 when the Khmer Rouge era ended, and had since built a profitable small holding. There were six pigs, a run of ducklings and well tended fields at the back. The house was equipped with hammocks, electricity from a car battery, a yard with bikes and motorbikes and a separate kitchen block. Outside the kitchen was the source of their wealth – a traditional rice wine still. “They can make 10 litres a day and sell it for 3000 riels ($0.75) a litre,” our guide explained.
“I think they will get approval,” she said, stopping to photograph the posts of a large new house, already in advanced stages of construction.
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