AsiaLIFE

Though tattoos in Cambodia have long been sought after for mystical purposes, body painting is taking on new meaning for some Cambodians seeking a link with their past. Words by Mai Lynn Miller Nguyen.

A glance at Lorn Luy reveals more than most people could share in a long conversation. He wears his heart on his sleeve—quite literally. Tattoos form a seamless tableau of representations stretching up his left arm.

“It’s the memory of everything,” says Lorn. “My trade, everything I’ve learned, the loves of my life.”

His first tattoo depicts Hanuman, a deity from Hindu lore, on the top of his wrist. Intertwined with images of the Naga snake and art from the Angkorean period are portraits of his wife and son, snaking around his forearm and bicep. His leg has also become his canvas, featuring a tiger fighting his own name in Khmer script.

It took Lorn eight months to learn how to tattoo, picking up the skill from a Cambodian-American friend. Together, they created a homemade tattoo machine and Lorn began practicing on himself.

A graduate of the Royal University of Fine Arts, Lorn, makes his living as a painter and sculptor. Viewing tattoos as simply another form of art, he decided to become a tattoo artist. Having replaced his earlier homemade machine with a gun imported from the US, Lorn has tattooed nearly a dozen friends, and friends of friends thus far. It has become a handy additional means of income to support his family.

Tattooing in Cambodia is by no means new—the practice is thought to date back to the Angkorean era. ‘Magic’ tattoos, known by the Sanskrit word Yantra, are associated with mystical abilities to ward off evil. Though Yantra tattoos are no longer as common as they once were, they are still seen as a form of defence, particularly by soldiers who desire immunity from bullets and other dangers.

Although protective Yantra tattoos have long existed in Cambodia, it is still relatively rare to find tattoos chosen for their visual impact. Conspicuous tattoos carry a stigma for many Cambodians, particularly in rural areas.

“Most Cambodians think badly of tattoos,” says Ros Sidin, the Cambodian owner of RSD Tattoo Shop. “They think those with tattoos are gangsters and that it would be difficult to find a job if they had one.”

Though most of his clients are foreigners, Ros believes about a third are Cambodians. He anticipates it will be another five to ten years before tattoos become widely accepted by Cambodians. Not that he is complaining. “I think there are too few tattoo studios in Cambodia, so I have no competition,” he says.

Many of the Cambodians that do seek the studio’s services have been raised abroad, says Ros. According to Phanna Nam, who now lives in Phnom Penh after being brought up in the US, it is common for Cambodians in the US to choose tattoos demonstrating their heritage, such as Angkor Wat.

Phanna recently had the image of Preah Vihear imprinted on his back by Lorn Luy. For him, depicting a nationalistic symbol on his body is a way of respecting his roots. “This one is to show off, to let people know who I am,” he says.

Working with Lorn on the design, Phanna is planning a tattoo which merges a portrait inspired by the faces of Bayon with his own likeness—drawing a connection between modern day Cambodia and the empire that founded the nation. “It’s to symbolise that I’m Angkorean, we’re Angkorean,” says Phanna. “It’s about representing how strong Cambodians are.”

Lorn expresses similar sentiments about fusing Khmer symbols and art on his body. “I want to let the world know I am Cambodian,” he says.

Neither Phanna nor Lorn are fazed by the permanent nature of tattoos. They regard their tattoos as an exterior visualisation of who they are, who they always will be. “I don’t have a problem with having a Khmer tattoo early in my life,” says Phanna. “I’m Khmer. Khmer forever.”

Lorn Luy is available to tattoo by appointment only, Tel: 017 262 108 for English speakers or 089 869 885 for Khmer speakers.

RSD Tattoo Studio, 17 Street 51, Tel: 016 787 816.