Cambodian Buddhist funerary rites often unfold as a rich tapestry where centuries-old spirit-worship rituals intertwine seamlessly with Theravāda practices. Long before the arrival of Buddhism, Khmer communities venerated ancestral and nature spirits—known as neak ta—and those customs still shine through every funeral drumbeat and incense curl today.

To begin, local Brahmin-style chants sometimes open the ceremony alongside Pāli sutras, ensuring that both guardian spirits and the Buddha’s compassion have been duly invoked. Monks chant the Abhidhamma while spirit-mediums or elder laypeople quietly recite ancient Khmer verses—an age-old insurance policy against restless ghosts. When water is poured over the hands of monks, it doubles as a Buddhist blessing and a folk blessing to “seal” the departed’s passage.

Then comes the offering table piled high with bananas, betel nuts, rice cakes and sugar palms—each item symbolizing elements from the Pre-Angkorian diet and invitations to hungry ghosts hoping for a share. These food offerings, alongside paper houses and mini spirit boats, nod to the belief that the soul’s journey must be provisioned in every realm it traverses.

On the seventh day, a kolam-style dance may appear, channeling protective deities through masked performers. That same week, a communal meal invites neighbors to “cover all bases,” sharing merit so the deceased won’t be stuck between worlds as a preta (hungry ghost).

Cremation is the agreed-upon finale, but even after the fire cools, bones are collected with bamboo tongs in a ritual echoing ancient animist taboos against direct touch. A final blessing by monks and the sprinkling of holy water ensure both Buddhist rebirth and appeasement of local spirits.

In bustling Phnom Penh today, these hybrid rites remain as alive as ever—broadcast live on social media for diaspora communities hungry for a taste of home, proving that blending the old with the new keeps traditions from going up in smoke.