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Published: December 10th 2008
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Skulls
At the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek. On November 26, we finally left Vietnam.
After a low-security Visa approval process and a quick lunch at the Cambodian border crossing, we got back on the bus and headed for Phnom Penh. As we drove through the watery countryside and into the dustbowl of a capital city, I was immediately consumed with Vietnam-Cambodia comparisons.
The conical hat had been replaced by the krama, a checkered scarf. The repetitious names of Vietnamese ancestors in roman script was now Khmer, a completely foreign serif-y script. There were far more cars driving around, but the road construction was worse. The women wore more make-up and no one was wearing pajamas in public. The cows were white, not brown, and the English as a second language was much easier to understand.
We took in each new sight and felt excited to be on the road after such a long delay in Saigon. But what we didn’t fully realize about Phnom Penh was that its most significant tourist attractions feature the atrocities of war and genocide. It was our first non-Vietnam experience in Southeast Asia and it was a doozy.
The following is a three-day synopsis of our trip to Phnom
Mekong ferry
The Cambodian flag waves over the ferry that carries our bus across the Mekong River on the way to Phnom Penh. Penh.
Day 1 - The bus drops us off in the heart of the city. Within ten minutes Marc becomes acquainted with a tuk-tuk driver named Mr. Chhuom who would turn out to be our tour guide, and I discover that an iced coffee in Phnom Penh pales in comparison to one from Saigon. We succumb to the pressure and convenience of it all and check into the sketchy $7/night guesthouse in cahoots with the tour bus company and promptly settle in for what are supposed to be quick naps on our separate twin beds. We awake about five hours later and refer to the Lonely Planet for the only place to eat within walking distance - Mama’s Kitchen. Roast chicken and potatoes for me, a shepherd’s pie for Marc and a few Angkor beers for both of us before we call it a night.
Day 2 - Marc gets another vote for Man of the Year when he gets up early and enlists Mr. Chhuom to find us a new guest house and books a tour with him for the next day - all while I sleep. By 11 a.m. we’ve had breakfast at Mama’s and checked
Ladies
Some locals on the ferry with us. Many men and women alike wear these krama (scarves) and use them for almost everything. into the new place - it’s twice the price, but still only $14 and far closer to the riverfront and all the touristy haunts so we’d save on tuk-tuk fare anyway. Oh, and the double bed is nice, too.
We head out for a stroll, passing several monks in saffron robes and literally stepping over families sleeping on the sidewalk. We constantly mumble “no, thank you” to the barrage of “you wanna tuk-tuk, lady?” or “you wanna go someplace?” Eventually, ethnic music and a large crowd of people draw us down to the riverfront.
Handfuls of children are unwashed, some are unclothed and most are uninterested in our presence. Elder amputees shoot the breeze in their rickety wheelchair-like contraptions. Krama-wearing old women and younger girls craft bracelets out of flowers petals. For one dollar, a man offers to sell us a bird strictly with the purpose of letting it fly away. We sit down on the balustrade and watch all of the people assemble in two lines while a relatively nicely-dressed woman shells out even denominations of money to each person. We did not see this in Vietnam.
Soon after, we make our way to the king’s
Street Couch
Phnom Penh city scene. residence, the Royal Palace, visible from the charity scene along the river. Within the perfectly-preened compounds of the ominous Royal Palace is the Silver Pagoda. It boasts a floor of 5,000 silver tiles, a Baccarat crystal Buddha, a glowing emerald Buddha AND a solid-gold, life-size Buddha decorated with 2,086 diamonds. It was the absolute antithesis of the street scene and we just didn’t get it. I can’t stop thinking or talking about it for the rest of the day.
Day 3 - Mr. Chuom picks us up at 9:30 a.m. and we head out of town.
Stop #1 - He takes us to a village on the outskirts of the city, a slum, essentially, where the Cambodian government places homeless people they’ve cleaned off the streets of Phnom Penh. Complete with a school, bathroom facilities and a clean water system, all sponsored by foreign humanitarian organizations and governments, the area was still filthy with mounding garbage and sewage and the majority of people looked ill. The 2m x 3m one-room “houses” were made of bamboo and palm leaves with dirt floors. Furnishings included nothing more than a waist-high platform used for sleeping, eating and anything else the two-to-eight
inhabitants needed it for. I try hard to be friendly as we walk amongst the houses, as the last thing I feel like doing is smiling. It was unsettling.
Stop #2 - Mr. Chhuom drives us out of town to the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek, where 17,000 men, women and children were executed by the Khmer Rouge between 1975 and 1978. We first approach the beautiful white stupa that’s stocked top to bottom with human skulls. Afterwards, we slowly and quietly walk amongst the excavated graves and read the signposts indicating how and where people were beaten, murdered and buried. Shocking.
Stop #3 - We head back into the city for our final stop at the Tuol Sleng Museum, also known as Security Prison 21 (S-21), the largest security prison in the country during the Khmer Rouge regime. Here, detainees were tortured and interrogated before being sent for execution at Choeung Ek. Today, S-21 operates as a museum, with fascinating photo exhibits and testimonials from victims, survivors and even soldiers who carried out the brutal acts. In total, around two million people - a quarter of the population at the time - died under Pol Pot’s power.
Organized charity
A surprising scene at the riverside shrine. The police organized these people in a long row, then donators would come by and give some small cash to each of those in need. By the end of the day, we have not much to say to each other, except that we don’t want to stay another day so we buy bus tickets to Siem Riep leaving the next morning.
Our three days in Phnom Penh were educational and uncomfortable. They evoked a physical and emotional response from me that will linger on for quite some time. I equate the experience to watching a really disturbing or violent movie: you can’t help but cringe or cover your eyes, but you keep watching…and hoping that everything will turn out okay.
Thinking of you,
The Smiths
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