As I have become accustomed to throughout my travels in Laos for the past 6 weeks, I showed up for my bus at 8:30am, but it turned out to not plan on leaving until 9:30am, while the bus drivers collected passports from all of the travelers as well as money, in preparation for crossing the border from Laos to Cambodia. The bus left around 9:30am, but we didn't really leave Laos until about 11am, as we had to go through the whole border crossing which involved getting off the bus, walking through the mud across the border, waiting for our bus guys to come back with our stamped passports and visas for Cambodia, as well as the ''quarantine department'' coming onto the bus and taking each of our temperatures with a scanner gun on each of our cheeks, and finally slowly pulling away and saying goodbye to the country that I had spent an amazing 6 weeks in.
The bus ride was about 8 hours. I spent the majority of the bus ride reading my most recent book "Survival in the Killing Fields", another devastating autobiography by a Cambodian who miraculously survived all four years of the Khmer Rouge Regime (another one to read if you are interested in learning about the Khmer Rouge takeover: "First They Killed My Father"). I also spent a lot of time looking out the windows of the bus and seeing beautiful Cambodian countryside. We got into Phnom Penh (the capitol city of Cambodia) around 7:30pm that evening. I got taken from the bus to my hotel by a Cambodian tuk-tuk driver (they were all swarming to get to me first, the only foreigner on the bus!) who spoke exactly like an Australian- it was a little bit eerie/creepy, actually! No Cambodian accent whatsoever!
He took me to the River Star Hotel by the riverfront (after many efforts to convince me to stay at another hotel or guesthouse, which is quite common here apparently), which, I thought I would treat myself to upon arriving into the big city after two and a half weeks in a tiny quiet island for $6 a night in my bungalow there. While seeking security and comfort by choosing this hotel, I realized that it was not what I wanted at all- I paid a (discounted) $27 per night for a room that was well-decorated and air-conditioned (this is by far the most I have paid for accommodation during my entire 3.5 months that I have been traveling!) but the staff were of the fancy hotel ass-kissing genre that makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable, and I could barely walk a foot or take a bite of food without someone asking me if there was anything I needed or if I was enjoying my food.
Also, the woman who served me dinner asked me my name, where I was from, then asked if I had an email address, and then asked for my email address- this was the entirety of our conversation! I had heard that Cambodians were incredibly friendly, but this was a little bit too close for comfort for me. I decided that I would be checking out immediately the next morning, but in the meantime I would enjoy one night's sleep in the comfortable bed.
The next morning, I ate my complimentary breakfast in the lobby, and while sitting there stretching and yawning, a tuk-tuk driver outside caught my eye. He laughed and smiled at my sleepy demeanor, and I smiled back. When I was done with breakfast I approached him and asked him if he could help me to find a new and better guesthouse or hotel. He agreed, and also talked me into hiring him to go to four different sights that day. Usually, I like to hire a bicycle and explore solo-style, but, I was feeling quite tired from the long day of travel the day before, and wasn't quite ready for the full-on city yet, so, I was happy to accept this time.
After visiting a few places, we found the 'Nice Guesthouse', which, was indeed, ''nice" and I loved staying there. The people there offered excellent rooms and service, for only $11 per night, and while they were always there to help if I needed it, otherwise we all just did our own thing, and it felt very ''Cambodian" as opposed to a tourist place. Also, now that I wasn't at the ''most desired location" at the riverfront, where all the tourists like to go, I was also in a ''real" neighborhood, where locals lived and worked, and I felt much more at home there.
''Ha"was the name of my tuk-tuk driver, and he was a young guy of 25 who had a very nice disposition, so in addition to having a good day of sightseeing from his tuk-tuk, we also enjoyed each other's company. He patiently waited as I went through 3-4 guesthouses to find the 'right' one, and took me to a local food joint that I wouldn't have found otherwise- where Cambodian people go to eat- food served by an older woman, who had warmth and kindness throughout her being, and tasty food. I had my first ''Fish Amok" a traditional Khmer dish- delicious! Ha and I ate lunch together, and chatted and had a really nice time.
Next, he took me to my first desired location- The Killing Fields. Today was to be a difficult day. The Killing Fields is the location of many mass graves of Cambodians killed by the Khmer Rouge between 1975-1979. I had now read two autobiographies about this time period and the killings and suffering that went on, and I knew it was to be a somber day indeed, but was also a big part of why I wanted to come to Phnom Penh in the first place.
It was a quiet place, with a large memorial building filled with skulls of the people's remains found in the mass graves, stacked at least ten levels high, all labeled and sorted by age and gender. At the bottom level of this memorial building was a large pile of clothing from the people who died in the Killing Fields. There was a man outside the memorial selling flowers and incense to offer in remembrance, and I bought some and made my offering.
Next, I walked to the fields themselves, which were large pits in the ground, now with grass grown in where there was once only dirt. There were a number of different mass graves, some marked with signs indicating the number of people per grave, or the state of their remains when found. There were scraps of clothing still scattered around the ground, which made this otherwise peaceful-seeming field seem more real in the purpose that it carried a little over 30 years ago.
There was a small museum and a short movie to watch about the events that took place, and then I went to find Ha again. Next, he took me to ''S-21'', a former primary school that was turned into a torture and killing prison. There were many many rooms (once classrooms) with rusted metal beds, old-ammo cans meant for excrement, as well as many ankle-shackles and torture instruments left behind. There were many rooms filled with photos of the victims that had lived and died at S-21, and it was very intense being there. I did not cry that whole day, but I could feel an energy building inside of me that felt like a scream wanting to make its way to the outside, or a sick feeling that wanted to be relieved but couldn't.
A really special thing that happened here is that I met one of the survivors. I was standing in one room, looking at a photo of a survivor and reading his story of torture and captivity, when suddenly I saw the man himself standing in front of this information board. Myself and many other tourists suddenly stood up straighter and looked at him with soft and amazed eyes, not quite sure what to say, and a small utterance of ''oh!" came involuntarily from my mouth.
I watched the man talking with another tourist couple, and followed him from a distance as he walked out of the room. When he finally stopped outside to just stand and look around the courtyard, I slowly approached him, and said "Hello. I read about your story", and he put his hands together and bowed to me and said 'Ha-Khun' (thank you) and I did the same back to him. He gave me his card, and I shook his hand and thanked him again. It was just humbling to be in this mans presence, who had such a gentleness, but also such pain and age in his eyes, as well as a hope that glimmered through. His card gave information for an organization that he was a part of in creating justice for Cambodians.
After this, it was time for an hour-long documentary that showed twice in a day. With twenty minutes before the movie was to start, I ran across the street and had an excellent quick meal, as I could feel myself becoming quite dazed and ungrounded from witnessing the photos and location and stories of such suffering. I realized I was about .50 cents short for the meal I had ordered, but the family kindly gave it to me anyway when I offered to buy something cheaper, and not only that, but they brought me a big glass of water and two bananas. I wolfed it all down and felt gratitude for their kindness.
By the time I sat down for the movie, I could barely take in what I was watching and hearing. I couldn't follow the story any more, I was too full from what I had learned and seen all day long- it was intense and very sad. By this time, it was 4pm, and while I had originally planned to go to the National Museum and the Royal Palace with Ha, I asked him if he could just take me to my guesthouse. I had spent 6-7 hours touring these death sites and memorials, and as painful as it was, I could barely tear myself away.
That night I had a simple meal out, and got a massage from a kind older lady on the riverfront, and went to bed early, still digesting all that I had seen and experienced on what was only my first day in Cambodia, and in Phnom Penh. I was looking forward to the next day, when I would rent a bicycle and do my own exploring.
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