Cambodia - Phnom Penh

Cambodia. How dusty you are. And the most expensive country we’ve visited thus far. It strikes me that Laos and Cambodia have been the more expensive countries despite their more delayed development. But then Thailand and Vietnam cater more heavily to tourists, so perhaps that’s a contributor.

Well. Our entrance into Cambodia wasn’t very unlike the border crossing from Laos to Vietnam. We got ditched at the border. Again. It all started when we booked the cheapest bus from Saigon to Phnom Penh. We were counting our last dong and trying to avoid making another ATM withdrawal (the fees are much higher than they should be). Thus, the very cheap bus. We were the only tourists on the bus which was warning sign number one. But the conductor seemed smiley, a young Cambodian chap. Chap. As if I should use such a friendly word. This conductor came through the bus collecting everyone’s passports and the visa fee, so when he came to us I handed him our passports and $40. He looked at us and said, “$25.” We replied, “No, $20. We know the visa is $20.” This went on for a minute until he gave us our passports and money back. The lady sitting in front of me very clearly gave him only $20. But we’re tourists, so of course he tried to tack on some kind of extra scam. The thing is, it was only $5, but our bus trip was only $10. He tried to get us to give him 50% of what we paid for our bus ticket! Oh well. We would have to walk through customs anyway, but it did leave us with a bad feeling and after getting nearly left at the border at our last border crossing, we were a bit paranoid.

We made it through the Vietnam side without incident. When we went back to the bus the driver waved at us to keep on walking, rather than get on the bus, but we waited for our fellow passengers and we all drove on to the Cambodian border. We filled out our visa forms, paid our fee and I very clearly pointed out the $20 sign to our conductor. He just shook his head as though the sign was lying. So then he took off, we went into the customs agent, filled out another form, and went through. This took all of five minutes because the border was super empty. But when we got out of customs, our bus (along with the rest of the passengers who strangely didn’t have to go through customs at all) was gone. Someone came up to Marcus to hand him a note that said, “Restaurant. 3 km.” They’d totally frickin left us. Aaaaaaaaaaargh! Assholes!! Of course, there were a few motorcycle taxis waiting there to take us those 3 km. In on the scam. We agreed to the $2 fee and with our anger and adrenaline pumping, we drove the 3km down the road. When we got to that restaurant, I hopped off the motorcycle quicksmart and strode in, eying my fellow passengers and demanding to know where the conductor was. They waved me back to a table in the corner where he was eating with a table full of other drivers and conductors. I launched in and Marcus was quick to follow. We brought the motorcycle driver back and let him know that our conductor would be paying him. Both he and the conductor shook their heads no, but in the end that’s how it worked. Again, it’s only $2, but there’s no WAY we’re going to stand for that kind of bullshit. No doubt they’ve done this to others and it’s a just plain shit way to treat people. It’s not the money that gets me, it’s the cheating, the lying, the dishonesty. I’ll be damned if I’m going to help people get ahead in this world by taking advantage of others. Or if I’m going to bend over and be taken advantage of. Marcus and I were heated, and I went straight to our bus to take a picture of the license plate. Marcus guarded the luggage door to make sure they didn’t try to hijack that while we were stopped, and I got straight onto the bus as soon as the doors opened.

Welcome to Cambodia.

When we arrived in Phnom Penh, I got a picture of the bus driver and tried to get one of the conductor, but our camera sucks and after the first attempt was unsuccessful, he dodged my picture attempts. He also dumped my bag in the mud, which was a nice little topper.  

Next time (and from here on out) we’ll take whatever the rest of the tourists are taking! Phew. Enough of the border crossing rant.

After sleeping in the next day, we set out for some sights. The Royal Palace was closed for lunch (a good 3.5 hour break) so we walked down to Tuol Sleng Prison. As a bit of a history note, Cambodia, like Laos and Vietnam, was colonized by the French. They successfully gained their freedom back in the 50’s, though the king was overthrown in the turmoil and upheaval of the 70’s, during the time of the Vietnam war. The General who took control left the country in quite a weak state, and after a few years of civil unrest, he was overthrown by the Khmer Rouge in 1975. 17 April 1975, to be exact. It’s a date that is repeated over and over and is hard to forget. Soldiers filed into the cities to cheers, but the cheers were quickly quelled.  

These victorious soldiers, the Khmer Rouge, gathered and killed the government soldiers then performed quite an amazing feat. The new regime was of the communist variety and the new leaders, headed by Pol Pot, decided they should have a purely agrarian society. All business, industry, education, religion, culture and history was to be abandoned. They wanted to mark the revolution by entering Year Zero and turning all of the citizens of the cities out into the fields. The amazing feat? They managed to evacuate the cities (think millions of people in Phnom Penh) in a mere three days. How? They told everyone the Americans were coming to bomb them and that they’d only be leaving the city for three days. Simple, evil genius. They marched everyone out into the rice fields making children and adults alike work in the fields like slaves with insane hours of work. Then began exterminating the unhealthy areas of society. People who had been doctors, lawyers, teachers or of any deemed elite profession were exterminated. Many were killed for having glasses, soft hands, skin that was too light, or any features perceived to be Anglo. Anyone who questioned the authority of the Khmer Rouge or looked at them the wrong way was at risk of being killed.  

After the Khmer Rouge assumed they’d eliminated the “bad” citizens outside of the Khmer Rouge faction, they set their sights inward descending into paranoia killing their own. For regular people and Khmer Rouge alike, there were daily “confessions” where people would sit in a group and admit to their own actions of bad character. Then they were to point out any traitorous acts they’d seen committed by neighbors, friends, family. Everyone was turned against everybody. else Families were separated into different camps, children taken away from their parents, and all allegiance was to be redirected to the Khmer Rouge.  

It’s estimated that a quarter of the entire Cambodian population was killed (or died of starvation, disease and overwork) in the four years the Khmer Rouge were in control of the country. The day of liberation by the Vietnamese was 7 January 1979, though the Khmer Rouge were still around until the 90s. They represented their country internationally, including at the UN. Countries like the US, the UK and France recognized them as the legitimate rulers of the country. It was a horrific era in this country’s history, and so terrifyingly recent. Liberation occurred just four years before I was born, which means that pretty much anyone older than me lived through this period of time. The ladies vending their wares on the street worked in the rice fields, as did most of the tuk tuk drivers that try to flag us down. It’s strange to put it into current day context. 

The atrocities committed by the Khmer Rouge have been memorialized in several poignant tourist sites in Phnom Penh. On the first day, after passing the Royal Palace on lunch break, we visited Tuol Sleng Prison, also known by its code name S-21. Housed in what used to be a school, this building was converted into a prison and place of torture and interrogation where up to 100 people were killed daily with around 20,000 people tortured and killed. The Khmer Rouge kept thorough records taking pictures of the people who came through. As you walk through these former cells, former torture chambers, faces of its former inmates stare back like ghosts, the pictures displayed in room after room. Handcuffs and torture tools including axes, shovels, hoes, bamboo sticks and electrocution machinery are all on display. In a few rooms, there are gruesome pictures of the destroyed, decaying bodies left behind when the Khmer Rouge fled in 1979 when the Vietnamese took control. The pictures are in the rooms in which the bodies were found. Along with the iron beds and shackles the bodies were found on.  

Each room I walked into, I wondered how many atrocities had been committed, how many people killed in this room.  Thought that if there really were such things as ghosts and haunted places, that this place would be overrun. Thought about how scary this place was, and how terrifying it would be at night. Walking from room to room, building to building, the feeling of dread and the knot in my stomach only increased. Pictures of victims, pictures of people working in the fields. Pictures of dead people. Pictures of nearly dead people, people reduced to skin and bones. There were also stories and biographies of both victims and perpetrators, illuminating at a more personal level the experiences of the individuals who tortured and were tortured. Again, there were pictures and areas of the museum I had to skip. There was a room at the end with bones and skulls that I couldn’t bear to look at.  

It was truly an interesting site, but horrific and I couldn't bring myself to take a single picture. I wondered if it was quite right to even walk through such a damned place and the feeling of unease lasted for quite a while. When I was falling asleep that night, after I had gone through a mental list of things I was thankful for that day and sending out some positive energy, flashbacks of the museum visit popped into my head. I managed to distance myself from the thoughts, but I wasn’t quite as successful the next night. Whether I liked it or not, thought about it overtly or not, it disturbed me deeply. 

Day two we went to The Choeung Ek Genocidal Center, more commonly known as the killing fields. A friend back in Seattle recommended that I watch the movie The Killing Fields a few years ago, so I knew what was in store. Part of me really didn’t want to go. I hate seeing violence on TV, so seeing the consequences of horrific violence in real life isn’t exactly my idea of a good time. It’s educational, though, and the site has been well put-together, so I’m glad I went. But if I was depressed leaving S-21, I was devastated after leaving the killing fields. Those two hours were the most deflating non-personal two hours of my life.  

Each visitor gets an audio guide that directs them through a number of signposts throughout the site. The center and main visual of the site is a pagoda inside of which are housed the bones of the victims killed here. Different bone types are located on different levels and though I didn’t go in to have a closer look, I couldn’t help trying to avoid looking at the skulls staring out from one of the lower levels. The audio guide pointed out that upon closer inspection, the evidence of how each victim was killed could be ascertained. Cracks on skulls from axes. That wasn’t really something I wanted to see. And for some reason, I don't know why, I felt the need to take pictures of a few of the stops along the way. Sorry.

 

 

Before becoming a place of mass murder, this site was a fruit orchard and a small Chinese cemetery. The site is grassy with many fruit trees still remaining, so without any background information, the site could seem deceivingly tranquil. Almost. Except for the unease from the pagoda. And the lines of big square divets in the green grass that mark the locations of the former mass graves.

 

 

The tour takes visitors through the sites of different buildings—the detention center, the executioner’s working office, the chemical storage—with accompanying information. Mentioning the fact that originally there was no detention center, that they tried to kill each new group of prisoners in one day. But with such high numbers of arrivals, they couldn’t kill everyone in one day so they had to hold them somewhere. Information about the chemicals that were supposed to hide the stench of decaying bodies as well as finish killing off those that were buried alive. Appalling details that make you want to break down and cry. There were quite a few people there and there was no conversation. Eye contact was avoided.  

Then visitors are introduced to a few of the many mass graves. The audio guide warns that shards of bone and clothing are often unearthed during the rainy season. Watch your step. The tour also points out particular sites of murder, like the tree that marks the area where children and babies were killed. There’s a lake to walk around whilst listening to stories of those who lost family members here. Stories of victims. Stories of perpetrators. There are glass boxes of bones, of clothes, with recently emerged shreds sitting atop the case. The staff glean the site every few months to collect the remnants that continue to surface.

 

It’s one of the worst places I have ever been to. I don’t think it would be exaggerating to say it’s the worst place I’ve ever been to. It’s something I was both curious about and wanted to forget immediately. I don't want to know that humans can be that cruel. I don't want to think about the humans that are committing comparative cruelties today. I mean, I do want to know about these things and I want to fight injustice. But I also feel limited. And I don't want to have to face the reality that the wonders of human action extend just as far in a negative direction as they extend in a positive.  

 

To try to lift the day a little, we went back to the Royal Palace, during opening hours. Aside from the fact that there were preparations going on for some kind of dinner (and learning that the king was at that time in the palace), it wasn’t a particularly interesting visit. One of the main sites, the silver pagoda, a temple whose floors are covered in silver tiles, was a letdown. The floor was covered in carpet with only a tiny portion uncovered for visitors to see.

 

 

 

Other than some unremarkable food and $2 jugs of beer (which I wasn’t in the mood for because I’ve come down with a cold), an unremarkable market (where I bought what I thought was a recycled bag turned wallet that I now find is even a fake "recycled") and a visit to Dairy Queen (the dilly bar called my name--and it was so random that I didn't feel very guilty) that was Phnom Penh. The city itself was bland, but we received a vivid education about Cambodia's recent past.