Culture & History : The Clock Collector of Phnom Penh’s Northern Suburbs

In the northern suburbs of Phnom Penh lies a small house completely overrun with relics. More than 120 antique clocks — ranging from remnants of 19th‑century French colonialism to post‑war Japanese examples — decorate its walls.

Cameras from the 1950s rest on a coffee table in the living room, while oil lanterns and samurai swords are delicately arranged on the shelves. The owner, Pin Kim Seng, 63, a retired Cambodian official from the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts, believes his house gives new life to antiques that would otherwise be lost:

“The former owner of the clock may have died long ago, but now the clock can live with me. Thanks to me, it is reborn again.”

Apart from his flat‑screen television, nothing in the house seems to be less than 50 years old. Even his small Buddhist shrine — common in most Cambodian homes — is decorated with antique statues and a photograph of his father‑in‑law dressed in uniform from the time of King Sihanouk. His most modern decoration remains a framed photo of himself receiving a medal from Deputy Prime Minister Sok An upon his retirement.

Seng began his eclectic collection while working in the provinces ahead of the 1998 general elections. He noticed that many rural Cambodians owned old items — especially clocks — and were looking to sell them. But with no real domestic market for antiques, they had little choice but to sell cheaply or pass them to middlemen who would take them abroad. Seng, fearing Cambodia would be emptied of its old clocks and cameras, stepped in to buy them:

“I want to collect all these old things because I don’t want them to leave the country. I want to keep them here to show that in our history, we also have old objects from France, Germany, and other countries. They’re not part of Cambodian culture, but they hold sentimental value for me.”

Though Seng knows little about the inner workings of his gadgets — he’s far more interested in their aesthetic value — he takes great pleasure in collecting an eclectic range of trinkets. His camera collection, for instance, includes an old Ricohflex twin‑lens reflex and a 1950s Mamiya. He doesn’t know whether they still work, but that’s beside the point.

“I have no photography skills, so I don’t know if they work or not. I just think they’re beautiful,” says Seng, adding that he prefers old analog cameras to modern digital ones. “It was good technology that could work independently — without batteries or electricity.”

Pin Kim Seng, passionate collector. Photograph by Hong Menea.

None of the items are for sale. Once, he was offered $300 for a teapot he had bought for $3 at a Japanese market, but the generous offer convinced him to keep it.

“I want to keep it like a diamond,” he says.

Seng, who has four adult children, hopes the clocks will stay in the family after his death:

“When I am no longer here, I will leave these antiques to my children. The lifetime of the clock will become the lifetime of the family clock.”

Although he admits his children might not want to inherit all these timepieces, Seng concludes with a smile:

“My children are busy with their work, but I will teach them to love all the clocks in the house.”

Bennett Murray & Vandy Muong with The Post