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Published: August 9th 2009
The Killing Fields
I don't know which was worse; the atrocities carried out by the Khmer Rouge, or that George Michael 'Careless Whisper' beard. All together now: "I'm never gonna dance again...".Following the border formalities we made our way to the Cambodian capital Pnom Penh. I had learned a little of Cambodia's troubled past through discussions with various travel companions, I was also reading 'The Killing Fields' by Christopher Hudson which helped me understand the political climate of the time. However, visiting some of the remnants from the Khmer Rouge's reign really drilled home how terrible conditions really were.
Neil, Chris, Rodge, Damo and I (hereafter referred to as 'Stink Floyd' to make things easier) were on our way to a restaurant when we encountered a girl we had met in Vietnam. After some small talk the subject of The Killing Fields was raised, and she turned into a fucking vegetable. Somewhere amongst a series of unintelligible gibberish she mentioned how emotional and moving the experience had been, and that she and her boyfriend didn't speak to each other for an hour after they left. 'Lucky Him' I thought, wishing we hadn't bothered to ask. It got me thinking though; if the experience could have such an effect on someone, it must be pretty hard-core. Or maybe she was just a daft bitch.
For those of you unfamiliar with the
A Watters Cambodian Moment
One of many I might add...Kula Shaker's 'Govinda' prompted this particular incident. story behind The Killing Fields, I will give you a brief rundown on the dark period in Cambodia's history when it was in use:
Following the defeat of Lol Noi's peoples army, Phnom Penh was taken over by the fanatical Khmer Rouge, led by Pol Pot. The Khmer Rouge then proceeded to empty the city, then with a population of around 2.5 million. Practically everyone, even those unable to move from their hospital beds, was evacuated. The people were moved under the pretense that the Americans were en route to bomb Phnom Penh to the ground. This was a lie permeated to ensure that people put up little resistance to the evacuation procedure. It was in fact the next step in the Khmer Rouge Communist masterplan to create a classless agricultural society where religious beliefs were outlawed, and those who showed signs of dissent or were suspected capitalists, including anyone with an education, were eliminated.
It is estimated that around 1.5 million people (one fifth of the population) died while the Khmer Rouge were in power from 1975. Most starved or were worked to death in the rice fields, while many others were simply executed. Their reign of
WHERE'S YOUR HEAAAAD AAAAAT?
...oh here it is, in this cabinet... terror was brought to an end in 1979 when Cambodia was liberated by the Vietnamese. Bizarrely, the red flag of the Khmer Rouge's Democratic Kampuchea (the name the Khmer Rouge gave to Cambodia when they came to power) still flew outside the UN headquarters for years after they had been removed from power, because the new government was not recognised by the international community.
Before making our way to The Killing Fields, the Stink Floyd boys were brought to S21. S21 was a school before the Khmer Rouge came to prominence, but having no need of education beyond their own brand of brainwashing it was fitted out to house political prisoners, or anyone who didn't tow the line. All but eight of the inmates who were brought to S21 perished, others were tortured to death for answers they didn't have. More often than not, an admission of guilt was extracted for a fictitious crime, and the 'guilty party' was brought to The Killing Fields.
S21, now a museum, serves as a reminder of the atrocities inflicted upon Cambodia. It had an ominous air about it, as you would imagine. The cells had been restored somewhat to reflect the
Stink Floyd
The boys reflect on an emotional day at the Killing Fields by shooting the fuck out of things... conditions that prisoners would have endured during their time here, with many of the instruments of torture kept on view along with a explanation as to how they were administered. Perhaps the most disturbing element of the museum were the photographs of those who lost their lives here, posted throughout the former prison. The Khmer Rouge photographed each inmate upon their arrival, and often on their departure. There were many 'before and after' shots where a victims broken body had been propped into position and photographed. Victims skulls are kept on show in a glass case in case there were any doubt as to the horrors that took place here.
Also to be found throughout were testimonies from those who had lived through the atrocities, from individuals on both sides of the fence. It gave an interesting insight into the lives of those who had to endure the mass genocide.
And so to the Killing Fields. I'm not sure what I was expecting to find here, but I wasn't quite as affected by the place as I had anticipated. Perhaps years of Arnold Schwarzenegger movies and a brief, unhealthy obsession with 'Manhunt' had desensitised me, but I didn't
Guns are Fun
"This is for you little Billy! TAKE THIS YOU KHMER ROUGE BASTAAARDS! YAGGGGHHHHH! feel particularly moved as I wandered through the site, once a place of unspeakable horrors. It was a little eerie, though, as you walk through the grounds over shards of bone, fragments of clothing and shattered teeth to the sounds of children playing in the distance. Points of interest (can't really call them highlights now can we?) included a commemorative stupa filled with the skulls of the victims, and a tree used to bash infants to death. Not exactly Disneyland eh?
And what would be the ideal way to finish off a deeply moving experience such a this? Lay a wreath? Hold hands in quiet contemplation perhaps? How's about blowing the fuck out of things at a shooting range? That's right; included in the tour was a trip to a shooting range where itchy trigger-fingered patrons could buy a few rounds and shoot away the days solemnity. Sure why don't we dress in black and chase some Cambodians through the streets while we're at it? Nuts. I had heard from several sources that if you were so inclined, you could blow up a cow with a rocket launcher. Quite expensive though apparently. I wondered if it would be any
Happy Cambodian Man
This Happy Man was able to sneak up on us using a sophisticated camouflaged shirt... cheaper to bring your own cow.
Phnom Penh was quite a pleasant, relaxed city, although not exactly rife with attractions. Our hostel was a stones throw away from the Royal Palace, and as usually the way with these sort of things, we never managed to go there. It looked quite nice from the outside though...
We did, however, manage to visit one of Phnom Penh's other attractions; namely the Central Market, whose art-deco stylings were home to stalls selling everything from t-shirts and flowers, to jewelry and electronics. It was here that we happened upon the tackiest watches known to man, and just had to buy them. The 'party watches', as they would come to be known, were a mobile wrist disco that ensured that it would forever be party time! Speaking of partying, it has to be said that Phnom Penh was a little lacking in this department.
Anyone we asked as to the name of a good night spot in town almost always prompted the same response; 'Heart of Darkness'. It was a little surprising, then, when following the thorough door search (we learned afterwards that it can be quite a dangerous place; it was
Keep Your Helmet out of Harms Way
Helmeted maniac attacks innocent shoed bystander closed for a brief period in 2007 after someone was shot dead inside. It is also popular with local members of organised crime syndicates) we were presented with what looked very much like a hooker bar. Not that I would know what a hooker bar looks like of course, but I imagine it would look something like the scene inside Heart of Darkness.
Among the many cultural attractions that we failed to see was the Royal Palace, conveniently placed right across the fucking road from our hostel. If they are going to make it that easy they only have themselves to blame eh? From the outside it looked very impressive, elaborately designed in the style that I would learn to recognise as distinctly Khmer. I did manage to see the Independence Monument - albeit passing at speed from a tuk-tuk - commemorating Cambodia's Independence from the French in 1953; another good example of Khmer architecture. I believe we passed the monument on our way to the Central Market, recognisable from the distinctive art-deco style dome in the centre of the complex. In addition to the usual shite bought at markets - t-shirts, bracelets and the like - the group
Kid With Magic Tricks
If you think people were impressed by this kids' rabbit in a hat trick, you should have seen their reaction when the character on the right pulled a hair from his hole... of us bought perhaps the greatest things the world has ever seen: party watches! One press of a button and BOOM; instant wrist party ! They were basically a piece of shit with disco lights, but they were so shit they were brilliant! The watches were the ugliest, cheesiest things I'd seen in a long time and so naturally we all snapped a few up. I think we appreciated them a bit more than anyone observing bemused from the outside, at a loss as to why when they asked for the time they were greeted with a unified scream of "PAAAAARTY TIIIIIIIIME!". We wore that to fucking death, and until the pieces of shit started to break in about a fortnights time!
Before leaving Phnom Penh for Sihanoukville, there was still time for Neil to get himself a tattoo in Cambodian script. He had a 'moment' as soon as he crossed the border into Cambodia and felt the need to have a Cambodian motto tattooed on his upper arm. Drink may have been a catalyst, because he was still half-cut from the previous night's escapades. It says something about the pride of the Khmer people, which
Tasty Tattoo
You're not finished there bitch, next you move onto the balls... he would later discover contained a spelling mistake. Not that it fucking matters because no-one outside of Cambodia can understand it anyway, and when asked by anyone (girls) of it's meaning he made up a bullshit story about the orphanage he worked in and how the joy on the childrens' faces was all the reward he needed for his charitable deeds. Anyone who knows him never fails to crease up at this, because we know that his black heart has no place for charity. Or orphans. Or mingers. There's a better chance of him being ordered to stay 500 feet from the fucking orphanage than ever be allowed entry to corrupt the minds of Cambodian youths!
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shell
non-member comment
just wanted to say, loved reading your blog, very entertaining! I'm going away for 7 months in october and was looking for a blog of a single girl, as i'm travelling alone, but came across yours and couldn't stop reading it! very funny and interesting, love your style of writing. makes me very excited about going away!! whoop! have a good day!! shell x