Weekend Excursions

Most people if they know one thing about Cambodia they typically know about the Khmer Rouge (pronounced K’mai Rouge). I encourage anyone interested to explore the events that led to the 1975-79 genocide and the reconstruction of the education and health systems after nearly 3 million Khmer people were killed in the name of a completely agrarian society. I do not pretend to be an expert on Cambodia, Cambodian history or the Pol Pot regime in particular. That being said, let me tell you about my personal encounters with the aftermath of Khmer Rouge while living in Cambodia some 33 years later.

Since arriving in Cambodia I have been wary of bringing up the past, however I have found that the people with whom I have interacted with thus far have been willing to talk openly about the late ‘70s and often bring it up first. My host family is made up of 4 generations and each has a different perspective on “Pol Pot time.” They left Phnom Penh during the forced evacuation in 1975. Their home is only a 45-minute bike ride from the nearest marked killing field. Two weekends ago I took a trip to the killing field in Krang Tacham. The site was exhumed, restored and made into a memorial site with a small pagoda and spirit houses in 2010 - a project spearheaded by the youth in the surrounding community who asked their parents and grandparents to share stories from the time. A library, resource room, and painted murals help piece together a collective memory bank for this particular site. Very little is translated into English; a good reminder that this was (and still is) a Cambodian memorial. A way for the Khmer people, and particularly that community, to never forget and to continue forward together. 

One of my friend’s host brothers accompanied us on the trip to this regional killing field (he said that nearly 150,000 people perished there), and expressed how most people still don’t understand what the regime stood for and what it was doing. He brought up the uniqueness of Cambodia’s genocide - Khmer people of the same race, ethnicity, religion, education and socioeconomic levels indiscriminately being killed by their own. “It was a time when it was hard to live and easy to die.” 

The site almost seamlessly blurs into the rice paddies beyond in where cows roam nonchalantly, except for rope and fences that mark the exhumed pits. In the middle stands a giant white monument where offerings have been placed in front of the glass panels that encase the countless skulls and bones of all the people who met their end in this place. Walking around is indescribable - knowing that I will be forever incapable of understanding or imagining the horrors of this place’s history. And yet, the hope and ability to continue on with a smile is something I see every day spanning the generations. It is a constant reminder that “the sun still rises if the rooster doesn’t crow and it’s a chance to live another day.”

This past weekend - after passing my practice Language Proficiency Interview (LPI), yay! - all 57 PCTs took a trip to Kep, a small province in the southwest up against the Gulf of Thailand. We spent the day eating anything BUT rice and swimming in the Gulf. There is a great brunch buffet and pizza place near the water and an open-air market where I tried squid on a stick and watched crabs pulled right out of the water and served fresh. I had a little incident with monkeys stealing fried bananas out of my hands as we were exploring the shoreline - no harm except that I lost my tasty snack. 

I came home tried but content with my glowing tan (well maybe more “sun-kissed” skin) and spent the evening chatting with my host mom, older sister, and aunt who lives next door. It was a cooler evening and we sat on the front yard/cement patio listening to the wind. Looking up at the moon (lo-khae) my aunt asked if we had the moon in America. I responded that we did and that when I look up at the moon I think of my family and friends in the States and how only a few hours later they will be looking at the same moon. My host mom chimed in that my parents must miss me very much and that she would too when I left for a new host family in less than 2 weeks. I told her to look up the moon and think of me because I would be doing the same and thinking of her where-ever in Cambodia I will be very soon.