The beeping of motorcycles and construction is heard down below this balcony. A cloudy blue sky, tall intricate buildings and a couple of potted plants frame my view. A good view, a good place to reflect.
We arrived in Phnom Penh Friday the 28th from a semi long bus ride to Cambodia’s capital. I noticed the crumbling buildings, the new shiny skyscrapers, and the traffic going left, right, forward and everywhere. I also saw the people hanging out outside their businesses looking out or walking, small differences from Siem Reap but overall we are in Cambodia.
But why am I reflecting so early in the day? Let me start with a little history. S-21 and the killing fields located just minutes away from where I’m sitting, located miles away from where you’re sitting. S-21, we as a group visited yesterday around this time with a vague understanding of what it is. In April 17, 1975 this high school was converted into a prison to keep, torture and kill people who the Khmer Rouge suspected of being doctors, lawyers (any knowledgeable person) even those who spoke a different language or wore glasses. The Khmer Rouge just wanted them all dead and they had the power because by that time they had already managed to evacuate all of Phnom Penh.
I entered the building with this knowledge; the first room was a typical standard size, a flimsy bed of metal with shackles resting on top. The bed centered in the middle of this room, the yellow and white tiles supporting the bed and my feet. The tiles had stains, mostly in the corners of the room; I suspect that it was blood that was absorbed leaving dark stains over time. The walls full of scratches, holes that seem to have been used to hang something. One big picture showing the dead body found when the place was discovered. My body went numb; I couldn’t imagine that 30 years ago so many people died right there. They found 14 victims that day not so long ago but it’s estimated that 20,000 people died from 1975-1978.
The next building had pictures of these people that suffered, also of the children workers. A snapshot, a second of their lives captured, their whole lives captured. Eyes, faces telling me they are sad, angry, scared, numb and so many more. Each person knowing what awaits them, they might have even known of their death in a couple of months. Children, women with their babies at their hands, man, teenagers all looked back. At that second what were they thinking? I would be scared…but I will never really know.
The next building had barbed wire; our guide told us that it was for prisoners not to jump off the top floors, thus committing suicide. The windows have bars and the small constructed cells had chains to shackle people. The cells were not cells they were small chambers made out of brick and cement, very quickly build in this once high school.
Afterwards on our ride to the killing fields I personally felt angry, sad, confused. Angry because that happened, angry because it is happening, angry because we didn’t learn from the past. But anger never helps, it’s useless. After going through the killing fields I felt hopeful for the future, but let me start from the moment we walked up a dirt lot to a fence. I wonder if the truck caring blindfolded, scared and tied up people (who believed they were going to a new house) to this place, drove that same way I walked on. What was going to happen to them as the truck came to a stop after such a bumpy ride? They were coming from a prison, maybe S-21, after being held for maybe 3 months, starving, in pain from torture, scared and the ones that new they were going to die maybe felt relived. Like I said I will never know. They were taken out the truck, an anthem in the background to fade their screams, cries. The guard probably told them to kneel or to stand and like that countless died. Pushed into the pits right after. That is the killing field were we walked, were I saw clothing and bones still on the dirt floor. I don’t want to describe this but it’s important to know… they call it “The Killing Tree”, a tree used to kill babies. Taken out of the mother’s hands and… the soldiers with force… the babies dead by head injuries. It’s hard to think about let alone write about.
You might ask why hopeful after seeing all this, hearing all this? A simple answer would be because we all need hope. True but why? Because I don’t want to be angry, I want to learn from the past, I want others to learn from the past. I’m hopeful that Cambodians will heal, that they will prosper and live happy lives. The Memorial Stupa and all the bracelets left by visitors remind me of hope, of peace. I hope for the well being of every one past, future and present. As I sit here in this balcony I hope for nothing more than a smile on people’s faces. A smile that radiates happiness.
Tomorrow early were headed to an orphanage nearby. The orphanage is for HIV positive children here in Phnom Penh. We will stay with them for a little bit more than a week. I’m excited to be around children, to smile at them be in company of them.
Its Yesi here I’m very glad I got to share this today’
