Cambodia

As a result of the lack of wireless internet on this part of the trip and the inability to blog weekly, I am going to copy and paste an on-going record of the events that have taken place over the past few weeks….

Cambodia:
My impressions of Cambodia are similar-though not wholly comparable to my impression of Uganda; both slowly progressing in the hands of the corrupt, yet with their fair share of things to be proud of. Unlike Uganda, Cambodia’s scenery is spectacular. The fields of shallow waters laced with reeds, tropical greenery, dirt and potholed roads all paint the stunning portrait that one may imagine. The monsoon rain beats upon my hotel window and the wind rattles the building. I sit, alone in my room, a sort of bubble sanctuary from Mother Nature. If I stand and look out of the window, I see the backyards of locals, dirty and poor and see the homes of the vocal rooster and dogs, so insistent that I stay awake. On the other side of my room is the veranda looking out onto the hotel swimming pool. Among the noises of monsoon, I can hear privileged children splashing and laughing, unaware of their surroundings and happy to play.

The past two days have been filled with Angkor Temples and obnoxious dinners shared with foreign travel companions. The tour has proven to be unlike anything that I had expected, actually it has proven to be more like a bad nightmare. A vacation it is not. For the majority, I feel like I am stuck with embarrassing relatives-all difficult to relate to. I’m staying sane through the help of my neutral, laid-back, British roommate Jade. She is a vault that I am able to confide my frustrations in, though I’m holding back many emotions as to prevent myself from seeming snobbish. I’m not a snob though. They are politically incorrect; make cultural/racial slurs and one man, last night, even personally attacked me! The attack, completely side-swept me and caught me off guard. (It referred to my education and he seemed to think that I have no focus in life.) Today, I resisted visiting a fishing village in order to escape and recuperate.



Later…
The last day that we were in Siem Reap, I shopped a bit in town and had a yummy lunch with even better ice cream. Siem Reap was a quiet and quaint little town, which alternates bar, boutique, restaurant and market, down each of the streets. I felt completely at ease getting around and I am also pleased to take the “tuk tuk” rides, because unlike Indian rickshaws, they are plush, wide and much less hectic.

We are now in Phnom Phen, the capital of Cambodia. We flew in yesterday (one of the quickest and most efficient flights I’ve ever been on) and it felt like we were in a whole different world from quiet Siem Reap. Driving via bus from the airport to our riverside hotel, we passed various factories and big buildings. My first impressions were rather negative, but after today, I am feeling much differently. Despite our smelly, crusty hotel, the area that we are staying is quite charming. My room looks right out onto the river-a beautiful view- and down the street are restaurants and bars. At night there is a lively feel and many people can be spotted through clouds of cigarette smoke, sipping cocktails in large lounge chairs.

Cambodians have style. All of the restaurants and boutiques look incredibly trendy and uniquely inviting. Sometimes, I get lost in the Asian textiles and décor while walking along the streets. While I enjoyed Indian shops better, the Cambodians can boast to the swankiest night scenes.

We have dined at two humanitarian restaurants that are affiliated with the NGO called “Friends,” which supports, educates and cares for street kids of Phnom Phen. Both restaurants had former street kids working and training as waiters/waitresses and chefs. The food was fantastic, as was the cause. I am appreciative to be able to see and support this side of Cambodia, even though I am a mere tourist.

This morning we went to the Genocide Memorial Museum (Tuol Sleng Prison) and the Killing Fields. The prison is located in a sub-district of Phnom Penh and covers an area of 600x400 meters. During the Khmer Rouge regime it was enclosed by two folds of corrugated iron sheets, all covered with dense, electrified barbed wire to prevent anyone from escaping the prison. Houses and the four former school buildings were used as administration, interrogation and torture offices. Within the complex, there were several male and female children (from 10-15 years old) who were trained and selected by the Khmer Rouge to work as guards. Most of them started out normal, but were brainwashed and grew to be increasingly cruel and disrespectful towards the prisoners. The prisoners were kept in tiny cells and chained to the concrete walls. The prison had strict regulations which read as follows:

1. You must answer accordingly to my questions. Do not turn them away.
2. Do not try to hide the facts by making pretexts of this and that. You are strictly prohibited to contest me.
3. Do not be a fool for you are a chap who dares to thwart the revolution.
4. You must immediately answer my questions without wasting time to reflect.
5. Do not tell me either about your immoralities or the revolution.
6. While getting lashes or electrification you must not cry at all.
7. Do nothing. Sit still and wait for my orders. If there is no order, keep quiet. When I ask you to do something, you must do it right away.
8. Do not make pretexts about Kampuchea Krom in order to hide your jaw of traitor.
9. If you do not follow all the above rules, you shall get many lashes of electric wire.
10. If you disobey at any point of my regulations you shall get either 10 lashes or 5 shocks.

There was never anyone released from this prison. Those who were not killed in the prison were bused to the Killing Fields and were either hung or shot. Currently, the Killing Fields are used as a memorial site where a building has been constructed to display all of the skulls and bones of the victims. Still to this day, during the rainy season, bones can be found washed up on the dirt paths.

I was faced with a familiar rush of emotions while wandering through the old prisons and looking at photographs, paintings, skulls and bones. It was so similar to the memorial sites that I visited in Rwanda-I felt angry, repulsed, and depressingly sad. Genocide is a concept that completely boggles my mind. It is one thing to kill an enemy, but to brutally torture a relative or friend is something that I will never comprehend. They explain that the people acting in the genocide were young, impressionable and brainwashed; but how does one brainwash a child to act so brutally? I have yet to wrap my finger around the experience to the fullest-I know these emotions are ones that I will revisit in my mind over and over again, and probably not understand my true feelings until much later.