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Published: July 28th 2011
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Despite reading up on Pol Pot's regime and studying the harrowing and horrifying 'Voices from S-21' I was totally unprepared for the deep, soul penetrating horror, shock and sadness I experienced on entering the killing fields and S-21 prison. Nothing could have prepared either Mike or myself for the macabre and disturbing sight of bones and fabric of clothing still rising from the ground, thousands of skulls piled high, signs marking out the 'killing tree' and other similar atrocities and bloodstains still on the floors. For the entire day Mike and I hardly spoke. Several times I had to leave an exhibition or video room because what I was seeing or reading utterly overwhelmed me and sent sadness flooding to my very core. And I didn't even experience what the Cambodian people did. I just looked at the aftermath over 30 years later.
The visit to Tuol Sleng museum and Choeung ek killing Fields provided a sharp contrast to the friendly faces and loving spirits we encountered on the streets. As well as being dumbstruck with horror, I was inspired by the strength, optimism, happiness and resilience of the people who are fighting to overcome their atrocious past. I felt
inspired/compelled to write after experiencing a vast range of feelings and having so many questions unanswered despite the wealth of information provided at both centres. Words we often heard from the Cambodian people were 'I rememeber you' or 'Don't forget cambodia' - it seems to echo the feeling that, not all that long ago, they must have felt 'forgotten' by the Western world who failed to step in and end their torture. I wrote a poem to try to get my head around what I'd just witnessed and read as soon as I got back to the hotel room.
Don't forget Cambodia
Tell your friends to come
Come see the poor sufferers
Of Brother Number One
Worried white smiles
Haunted brown eyes
Optimism, hope
Wiped out by Tyranny's lies
Pol pot, Khmer Rouge, Choeung Ek, S21
The torturous regime of Brother Number One
Slaying of the innocent
Mass genocide
Inhumane, relentless torture
Nowhere to hide
Forced false accusations
'admit' conspiracy
Babies heads bashed in against the killing tree
Bones, clothes and tortured souls
Rise up from the soil
they seek an answer to their questions;
Why did we fall?
Why did no-one hear us?
Why did no-one help?
Why
did we become
a brutalised whelp?
Why oppress intelligence?
Why punish creativity?
why smash our children against the killing tree?
Where was our support?
Why did no-one come?
why did the USA back Brother Number one?
We cried out for salvation
We uttered silent prayers
We lay broken and beaten
Our blood washed down the stairs
We endured deep pain and horror
At the hands of tyranny
We hoped our fears were wrong
that we'd see our family
We lived in terror and anguish
throughout Pol Pot's regime
But now, all these years later
we can finally start to dream...
Don't forget Cambodia
Tell your friends to come
Come see the brave survivors
of Brother number one
Wide white smiles
Happy brown eyes
Optimism, hope
No longer crushed by lies.
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