Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Ugh! They are playing a new CD this morning at Gloria Jean's coffee. Right now Fleetwood Mac's "Landslide" is playing and it is all I can do not to cry. That song gets me every time and it seems even more poignant today. Everything seems more poignant today. I am just on edge a bit emotionally.

I am beginning my last week here in Phnom Penh. It is is fairly clear that I am not cut out to be a primary school teacher so I will not necessarily miss that, but I will miss all of the volunteers that I have met while here and the children. The children are nothing short of beautiful. They are still children with all their ploys and snot and crocodile tears, but they are adorable and filled with the innocence and joy I would expect of children and am so glad to see in a country that has come so far in the past few decades.

We visited the Killing Fields (Choeung Ek) and S-21 (Toul Sleng) this weekend. These two locations symbolize the pure terror wrought out by the Khmer Rouge regime from 1975-1979 when they killed an estimated 1.2-1.7 million of their own people. The Killing Fields were a Chinese cemetery 17km outside of Phnom Penh converted by the Khmer Rouge to a series of over 100 mass graves. S-21 was a school in Phnom Penh converted to a prison during the regime's reign. I won't go into the gruesome details, but will recommend people read the books "Stay Alive my Son" and "S-21" (among many others written on the topic).

Two things will stay with me from these sites. First, at the Killing Fields, I was overwhelmed and appalled by the ways the local people have been encouraged to beg from visitors, thus preying on the visitors' pity and guilt. It has turned what should be a remembrance of their countrymen and what could be a statement about what cannot be allowed to be repeated into a money grabbing tourist trap. Last year, my father and I visited Dachau, Germany, the site of a concentration camp during World War II. It was a gut wrenching day. It is my feeling that, in places like these, the truth is horrific enough. Present the facts, wish peace upon those who suffered, and demand that history not be repeated....all against a backdrop of silence. I am no expert, but that seems the most fitting and chilling memorial to me.

Upon entering the Killing Fields and paying my $2 entrance fee which goes to the Japanese firm that now owns this Cambodian memorial, we left the ticket counter and were asked by a man at the next ticket window if we were interested in a tour. His sales pitch was, "If you don't get a tour, you don't know anything." And then he added that we were only asked to make a donation after the tour. I thought, "Go on then. It is too bloody hot to give it much thought. Besides, why not? We might as well get as much information as we can while we are here." (Side note: Saturday got to a high of 38C and it was probably 34C when we arrived at The Killing Fields at 9am.) Tour guides make me sceptical, but it was donation based so I didn't feel like there was anything to lose.

The man, a survivor of the Khmer Rouge, led us past a half dozen mass grave and gingerly picked up a skull and then an arm bone and waved it around a little before gently tossing it back on the pile of other arm bones while he repeated the same words as posted in English on the sign boards he was standing next to followed by the interjection, "Horrible!" At random, as if on-cue, he then told us his entire family had been killed by the Khmer Rouge and that he was the only survivor. I nearly dry heaved when I heard the arm bone clank against the others in the pile. These were human beings! These were his countrymen! And here he is throwing their bones back into a pile just like the Khmer Rouge dumped them into mass graves. Can't we just give them some respect and a little peace?

The tour continued with him providing no more information than we could have read from the signs. I was planning to walk away at the end of the tour without a donation until he implored us to 'Pay him now...." followed by, "People usually pay me $1 or $2 each." In a country where most people earn less than $1 per day, it was outrageous for this man to ask for upwards of $12 from the six of us for a 15 minute tour. I showed my protest by giving him only $1 instead of $2. My guilt was still in high gear and I told myself that $1 means nothing to me and so much more to him. I am sure this is what they count on.

The second thing I will take with me is from S-21. I had heard how the prison had been converted in a museum centered mostly around displaying the mugshot pictures the Khmer Rouge had taken of its victims when each entered the prison. I had also been warned about the post mortem photos they had taken that were now also on display. While I did not expect to be emotionally prepared for the sight, I felt sure that I wouldn't experience the element of surprise that so often accompanies me to such tragic places. I was wrong.

The pictures, of the women especially, will haunt me for a long time and possibly forever. There haircuts were what got me. I will never forget an image of a woman standing in front of the camera for her mug shot with what seemed to be not the slightest trace of fear and a layered haircut. Maybe her defiance was masking the fear, but there was no mistaking the layered haircut. It was a style I have seen on so many women worldwide. And then I noticed the same in all of the other women. They looked so contemporary. They could easily have been walking the streets of Phnom Penh today. They could easily have been the girls and women I work with everyday in the Montessori school.

The Khmer women I work with in the Montessori school are some of the friendliest people I have ever met and they seem to genuinely want to improve the lives of the children and, as a result, Cambodia. I wish them all the happiness and success in the world. Their personalities and dreams seem quite similar to most women I know. It is shattering to even imagine them harmed in anyway. And yet, their own people did far worse. That is why those images will stay with me forever. There were so many promises and innocent dreams shattered here. It is the dark legacy that cripples Cambodia.

Now Dave Matthew's Band's song "Lover Lay Down" is playing. Oh, the memories of college rush in. I think immediately of my college's radio program and our DJ friend playing this song as a request going out to my sister from her crush at the time. It seems a million years ago now, but the song brings it right back to the present for me every time. I love how songs can do that.

I miss my husband so much. Volcano ash and the winds over Europe willing, we are meeting this Saturday in Singapore before flying onto a two week diving holiday in Malaysia. I have not seen him in three months. Well, I have seen him via Gmail Chat (God love the inventor of video chat), but I am still beside myself with anticipation at meeting up with him at the Singapore airport. So, one can imagine how upset I was to find out that the Icelandic volcano is erupting again and closing airports in Europe again. The Netherlands has not been affected yet, but I am still nervous. We have travel insurance so it's not the money I am worried about. I am just SO looking forward to my best friend joining me on my journey.