Image via WikipediaThirty-five years ago today Khmer Rouge troops marched into Phnom Penh and began a systemic rampage that would later give the language a new term; autocide. A holocaust visited upon people of the same background as the perpetrators. Within days a city only slightly smaller than Toronto was emptied, its hospitals cleared, and all citizens were ordered to march.
Under the madness of Pol Pot, the country was divided into two groups. "Base People", who were viewed as pure peasants and noble workers, better than the "April 17th" people, who were elitist intellectuals, decadent parasites on society. The city dwellers.
Imagine Toronto bashing, writ very, very large.
Nowhere in the annals of the human politic does there exist an example of man using divisive means to such genocidal effect, creating a mayhem that turned people of the same cloth against one another in a degree of cruelty that rivals any terrible reign.
"I'll wait for you", my driver said. I nodded as I headed towards the entrance. I could feel my knees buckle and my stomach churn as I paid the paltry entrance fee. I had arrived at "The Killing Fields", or more accurately one of more than eighteen hundred killing fields scattered throughout The Kingdom of Cambodia, this being the Phnom Penh branch. A head office of a sort.
I entered and took a deep breath of the hot air, fuelled by the midday sun. About forty feet ahead was a tower and the rest of it was, well, a field. I approached the structure and lit a stick of incense to honour the dead. Before me was the monument, about forty feet tall and filled with the skulls of April 17th people.
As I walk the pathway I read the signs. I paraphrase, but the truth remains.
"Please Do Not Walk In The Open Graves"
"A Speaker Was Placed Here To Drown Out The Screams"
"Chemicals Were Poured On The Graves To Ensure The Death Of All Victims"
As I walk through the Killing Fields I see something beyond the fence that makes me stop and marvel at the irony. There are three children flying a kite. I shake my head, buoyed by the hopeful image, and the lessons taught to me by the people of Cambodia. These are strong people.
April 17th, 1975 marked the beginning of a spiral into madness, inspired by a conflagration of circumstance. Money was abolished, and all forms of trade were barred. Families were ripped apart and people were forced to eat in cult like mass halls
The next stop on the tour is Tuol Sleng, a former High School turned torture chamber, the last stop on the way to The Killing Fields. Fortunately, it is conveniently located in the heart of the city, and one wonders how it is that the neighbours didn't know. But it is not my place to judge, only to witness.
In the increasing heat my dismay and depression escalates. I ask myself, why do I drag my carcass to such places?. Only a few days earlier I had been in Angkor Wat, full of wonder. Now I was here.
For me, Tuol Sleng was much more difficult than The Killing Fields of Phnom Penh. Skulls don't have eyes, pictures do. To see the faces of children carrying infants in their arms and knowing the fate of both....Well, lets just say that its a little much for a rookie traveller and bleeding heart like me
Despite my despair, I find it difficult believe that you will encounter a more resilient and decent people on this planet than you will find in Cambodia.
Under the madness of Pol Pot, the country was divided into two groups. "Base People", who were viewed as pure peasants and noble workers, better than the "April 17th" people, who were elitist intellectuals, decadent parasites on society. The city dwellers.
Imagine Toronto bashing, writ very, very large.
Nowhere in the annals of the human politic does there exist an example of man using divisive means to such genocidal effect, creating a mayhem that turned people of the same cloth against one another in a degree of cruelty that rivals any terrible reign.
"I'll wait for you", my driver said. I nodded as I headed towards the entrance. I could feel my knees buckle and my stomach churn as I paid the paltry entrance fee. I had arrived at "The Killing Fields", or more accurately one of more than eighteen hundred killing fields scattered throughout The Kingdom of Cambodia, this being the Phnom Penh branch. A head office of a sort.
I entered and took a deep breath of the hot air, fuelled by the midday sun. About forty feet ahead was a tower and the rest of it was, well, a field. I approached the structure and lit a stick of incense to honour the dead. Before me was the monument, about forty feet tall and filled with the skulls of April 17th people.
As I walk the pathway I read the signs. I paraphrase, but the truth remains.
"Please Do Not Walk In The Open Graves"
"A Speaker Was Placed Here To Drown Out The Screams"
"Chemicals Were Poured On The Graves To Ensure The Death Of All Victims"
As I walk through the Killing Fields I see something beyond the fence that makes me stop and marvel at the irony. There are three children flying a kite. I shake my head, buoyed by the hopeful image, and the lessons taught to me by the people of Cambodia. These are strong people.
April 17th, 1975 marked the beginning of a spiral into madness, inspired by a conflagration of circumstance. Money was abolished, and all forms of trade were barred. Families were ripped apart and people were forced to eat in cult like mass halls
The next stop on the tour is Tuol Sleng, a former High School turned torture chamber, the last stop on the way to The Killing Fields. Fortunately, it is conveniently located in the heart of the city, and one wonders how it is that the neighbours didn't know. But it is not my place to judge, only to witness.
In the increasing heat my dismay and depression escalates. I ask myself, why do I drag my carcass to such places?. Only a few days earlier I had been in Angkor Wat, full of wonder. Now I was here.
For me, Tuol Sleng was much more difficult than The Killing Fields of Phnom Penh. Skulls don't have eyes, pictures do. To see the faces of children carrying infants in their arms and knowing the fate of both....Well, lets just say that its a little much for a rookie traveller and bleeding heart like me
Despite my despair, I find it difficult believe that you will encounter a more resilient and decent people on this planet than you will find in Cambodia.
I have learned lessons about humanity in each country I have visited, but the most profound lesson was in Cambodia, one of the poorest places in the world. Resiliency, forgiveness and strength.
It doesn't matter where you are, in one way or another, it is all sacred ground, but for me, Cambodia was special
I exited Tuol Sleng to find my driver waiting. By now I was feeling really sick and I just wanted to go back to my hotel. I spent the next two days in bed. Maybe it was a bug or maybe it was something else.
Either way, I made a promise to myself in Phnom Penh that I would always mark April 17th. I would tell others, and I would not forget the haunted look in the eyes of that long ago slain child. So thats what I'm doing
April 17th is just another day for most, but for me it is now a day that I quietly mourn the victims and celebrate the strength of their children.
I exited Tuol Sleng to find my driver waiting. By now I was feeling really sick and I just wanted to go back to my hotel. I spent the next two days in bed. Maybe it was a bug or maybe it was something else.
Either way, I made a promise to myself in Phnom Penh that I would always mark April 17th. I would tell others, and I would not forget the haunted look in the eyes of that long ago slain child. So thats what I'm doing
April 17th is just another day for most, but for me it is now a day that I quietly mourn the victims and celebrate the strength of their children.
A forgotten genocide, another log tossed on the artificial, but well meant, "Never Again" fireplace.
My visit to Tuol Sleng was one of the most awful and profound experiences of my life. The following video of my visit is both horrific and amateurish, but each face was a victim of the madness.
Please take a moment to consider the fate of the "April 17th People".
And remember that there, but for the grace of God, go I.
At the very least, we owe them that.
WARNING - VIDEO CONTAINS DISTURBING CONTENT
http://www.goyestoeverything.com
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