Best Killing Fields Blog You'll Ever Read

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It's midnight in China. I have to be awake at 6 am to make my 8 am class. So what am I going to do but write a blog entry for several hours! SLEEP IS FOR WIMPS.

We're back in Cambodia for the duration of this flashback: 28 Mar 2010.

It was our last weekend together in Phnom Penh. I don't know what happened to the other guys--some of us had long since departed for assignments in Vietnam or Thailand. Those of us who stayed in Cambodia had apparently gotten into something they shouldn't have: rancid food, minefields, brothels--for whatever reason, most of us were not present this morning. But Zach and I woke up early and decided to spend our last weekend doing something meaningful. In this case, we decided to help the Cambodian people exploit their own misfortunes by visiting the Killing Fields.

Here's one example where it's hard for me to be bubbly and positive. Am I supposed to say, "The Killing Fields ROCKED"? That's what I ask. Because I'm not sure that's tasteful.

Or maybe you will tell me that this is one of those instances where I should keep my mouth shut about things. Ah, but then I would argue that this is a Reconstruction Effort. I am working long and hard at odd hours of the night to my own detriment; who are you to subvert my efforts?

It stands to reason thus, I should take the middle ground and function as a historical resource without passing judgement.

The Killing Fields were instituted in the mid-1970s when the Khmer Rouge came into power. You would not have wanted to live under these folks--not unless you have lived with someone who is manically bipolar, completely arbitrary, utterly paranoid, blames you for all his or her own mistakes, is physically punative and purges his or her own staff weekly: AND LIKED IT. I have lived under such circumstances (I didn't like it and lived in a constant state of terror and savagery)--and if you put my experience on a national scale, that's pretty much what it was like under the Khmer Rouge.

By the end of their 3-year 10-month (or so) reign, the Khmer Rouge had managed to eradicate 25%!o(MISSING)f the population of their country. One of their ways of executing those who had fallen out of favor was to haul them to the Killing Fields, also called Choeng Ek, on the outskirts of Phnom Penh. Generally, those killed at this location came from the infamous S-21 prison (you shall soon know all!) in the center of the city.

Many were innocent folks; many were drawn from the Khmer Rouge's own ranks. They all wound up in the same place: here. Most were executed with instruments of blunt trauma. You can't waste a bullet on your prisoners when you're busy simultaneously fighting all your neighbors, I suppose.

Today there's nothing left but beautiful fields and trees. And the infamous skull stupa, and some signs telling what happened in Khmer and broken English. And a museum. And of course a gift shop. (I didn't go in. I don't know what on earth they would sell.)

There are also a fair amount of kids around the perimeter saying things such as, "Can I have money? I want to go to school." Riiiiight. I took their pictures, but was disconcerted when an entire gang of them followed us around the perimeter chanting, quietly, under their breath, and in unison, "Money...money...money..." Although I am tempted to make Zombie jokes about fresh brains, I hope you will see the reason I stop short when you glimpse the picture I took of the Killing Tree.

Nonetheless, those kids were quite as unsettling as the fields themselves. When you come to the Killing Fields, just show up with a fistful of 100 and 500 denomination riels. It makes them stop. If only it would have stopped the Khmer Rouge.

I think that's all that needs to be said. I am now a Cambodian! happy to exploit the misfortunes of the folks on this Field. For YOUR viewing pleasure:

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Photos

A Pyramid of Skulls
A Testament to Humanity

These Kids Want Your Money
money...money...money...

The Killin' Tree
Fresh...ugh, never mind.

Comments

[Alan Warner]

I Got Nothing
That is nearly beyond comprehension. It was brave of you to visit, and even more important to share. Too many people don't believe or don't want to believe stuff like this happens. And still happens.

[Global Drifter]

I know, right?
This is the same story as the Balkans, the partition of Pakistan, and common school yard bullying, for that matter. No one wants to talk about it. No one wants to remember it, not even the people who lived through it. Certainly no one wants to admit that they or their children are capable of this--they brand the perpetrators as monsters rather than realizing that we are all precisely the same. And thus, history continues to repeat itself and humanity continues to destroy itself.