Ancient artefacts sold as amulets on eBay
From Nick Meo in Phnom Penh

WHEN they unearthed old skeletons buried under their homes the villagers of Sophy thought their dreams of buried treasure had come true.

For three days, until the authorities stopped them, peasant farmers abandoned their rice fields and dug frantically, unearthing piles of bones and pots and a few glass beads but no gold.

Other villages in the Cambodian province of Banteay Meanchey have had better luck, unearthing the last resting places of chiefs from a culture that flourished more than 1000 years ago and whose descendants built the extraordinary temple complex at nearby Angkor Wat.

In the past six years there has been an epidemic of looting by peasants in Cambodia, so much that archaeologists fear knowledge of a key period in Asia's history is being lost forever.

It's not just that the historically important treasures such as swords and necklaces are sold, usually to tourists in Phnom Penh or Bangkok, and sometimes abroad. Bones are discarded or burned, ancient pots smashed or used for storage, and information about where the grave was sited is lost. Expanses of rice fields and banana groves have been turned into pitted moonscapes; the more enterprising looters use metal detectors to search for new graves.

Glass beads are in demand in Bangkok, where they are prized as talismans with the power of the dead chiefs they were buried with. They are often reworked and sold as amulets, and there is a thriving market for them on eBay among European and American collectors.

The epidemic of grave-looting in northwestern Cambodia follows years of stealing from temples. The looting took off with the coming of peace to Cambodia at the end of the 1990s, when it became safe enough for gangs and traders to venture into areas rich with historical remains which had been bases for Khmer Rouge guerrillas.

In July, a smuggled Angkorian apsara head fragment was returned to Cambodia after it was seized in the US, but that was rare. Hardly any of Cambodia's stolen treasures are recovered.

The great temple complex at Angkor Wat itself is now protected by guards. But with hundreds of temples scattered throughout remote jungles it is impossible to protect them all.

Canadian archaeologist Dougald O'Reilly established Heritage Watch in 2003 to persuade Cambodians to preserve their past instead of looting it. Grave-robbing is now one of his main priorities. He said: "At this rate, graves are being destroyed so fast there won't be any way to understand the rise of Angkor. A key episode of history will have been lost forever.

"We hardly know anything about those people and there isn't even a name for their culture, yet they went on to create one of the most magnificent civilisations in human history."

Heritage Watch has been creative about protecting the past. It issued a comic book titled Wrath Of The Phantom Army about the ghosts of slain warriors protecting their temples and tombs - frightening off looters in the superstitious nation. Cambodians do want to protect their heritage, but corruption and poverty are rife.

It's harder to communicate with the tourists. In Phnom Penh a souvenir can be bought for a few US dollars at the Russian market, and many antiquities are sold through Singapore and Thailand. Neither country has signed the 1970 Unesco convention on selling stolen antiquities, making it impossible to regulate art dealers there.

Sophy's farmers certainly didn't make much money from their grave-robbing - about $15 was the highest price paid for some beads. The farmers at least treated the bones and skulls they dug up with reverence, promising to place them in the village temple at the next suitable festival of remembrance for the dead. Monks will chant and pray for their souls.

Sum Mei Sum, 71, was one of those who gathered the bones, which he believes are those of his ancestors, after they were found when a new cesspit was being dug next to his house. He decided not to sell three glass beads when dealers arrived in the village. Instead, he placed them in an empty jar along with a rodent jaw and the claw of a bird which he keeps as medicine in case of snake bite.

"Some of the villagers were extremely angry when the government people ordered us to stop, although they didn't make much from selling the beads," the farmer said. "It's a feeling of excitement that takes over you at the thought of treasure. You want to keep digging."