Spirit worship in Cambodian Buddhism isn’t an afterthought—it’s woven into the very fabric of daily rituals. Shrines to Neak Ta, local guardian spirits, stand guard alongside golden Buddhas in temple courtyards. Fresh fruit, incense, candles and even cigarettes are left at these spirit houses, as people believe these offerings keep unseen protectors happy and their blessings flowing.

At Pchum Ben, the “Festival of the Dead,” ancestral spirits are honored with trays of rice cakes and sticky rice. Monks chant as families move from shrine to shrine, sprinkling blessed water. That water, infused with sacred vibrations, bridges the human and spirit worlds—proof that folk beliefs and Theravāda Buddhism dance together as partners.

In rural villages, spirit mediums—known as kru—are still called upon when illness strikes or a construction project stalls. They enter trance, channeling a spectrum of spirits: river deities, forest guardians or even ancient warriors. Their rhythmic drumming and colorful costumes are a vivid reminder that Cambodian Buddhism, far from being a lone tree, grows from many roots.

Urban Cambodians haven’t left these customs behind, either. City dwellers lining up at sleek new malls still pause at miniature spirit houses tucked into corners, dropping coins and sharing a prayer. During the 2023 restoration of Phnom Penh’s Silver Pagoda, craftsmen carved guardian figures among the temple’s gleaming tiles, nodding to centuries-old animist lore even as the nation embraces modernity.

Environmental movements have also tapped into these beliefs. Conservationists appeal to the Neak Ta of ancient forests to rally villagers against illegal logging, blending scientific data with spiritual reverence. It’s proof that when it comes to preserving Cambodia’s natural and cultural heritage, sometimes the old ways light the brightest path forward.