Posted under Cambodia
Begun in the 1960s as an indigenous revolutionary movement, the Khmer Rouge gained significant power in the early 1970s as thousands of people were killed or made refugees by the widespread covert bombing of Cambodia during the Vietnam-American War. After years of brutal conflict, the Khmer Rouge finally ascended to power in 1975, displacing the weak, corrupt Lon Nol government. The majority peasant class jubilantly celebrated this changing of the guard but the master plan was yet to be revealed; the complete transformation of Cambodia into a Maoist, peasant-dominated agrarian cooperative. Within days, the capital city of Phnom Penh and other provincial cities became ghost towns; everyone in the cities was ordered into the countryside and forced into slave labor. “Enemies of the state”, basically anyone the new regime disliked or distrusted, were summarily executed. Cambodia became Democratic Kampuchea, currency was abolished, public services halted, and the year 1975 became Year Zero. Pol Pot, the mastermind and architect of this new government became Prime Minister. Over the next three years, eight months and 21 days the Khmer Rouge regime killed nearly two million people, eliminating nearly twenty five percent of the population.
Fed up with Khmer Rouge incursions into Vietnam which left hundreds of innocent civilians dead, the Vietnamese invaded Cambodia in December 1978, toppling the government and effectively liberating Cambodia. The Khmer Rouge regime evaded capture and fled to the mountains. From the western mountain jungles of Cambodia, they would wage a bloody civil war which would last for another twenty years. The schizophrenic and paranoid Khmer Rouge leadership finally self-destructed after a series of high-profile defections and malicious infighting during the 1990s. A fledgling democracy has finally emerged after years of political infighting, much of it violent.
On our second day in Siem Reap, we visited the Cambodian Land Mine Museum, created by former Khmer Rouge soldier, Aki Ra. Aki Ra laid thousands of land mines during the war as a young, naïve recruit of the Khmer Rouge. When he realized later what horrific damage was done by the mines to his own people, he singlehandedly began to organize an extensive mine clearing program. Over the years, he has cleared thousands of land mines and has collected enough war remnants to stock his small but impressive museum.
Cambodia is believed to be the world’s most heavily land mined country with between four and six million land mines hidden in the landscape, in rice fields and on roadsides. As many as 40,000 Cambodians have lost limbs to mines. Cambodia has one of the world’s highest numbers of amputees per capita – about one in 275 people. Even in periods of peace, land mines continue to maim or kill 25 to 35 people per month (Lonely Planet Cambodia 2005).
We encountered a startling number of amputees on the streets of Siem Reap. It was heartbreaking to see so many people whose lives were visibly altered by the travesty of war. Much to our surprise, however, the land mine victims did not beg on the streets but rather made honorable attempts to earn a living by selling books and souvenirs on the streets or playing music outside the temples. We were so overwhelmed with respect and admiration for their efforts that we found ourselves buying whatever they were selling. A one-legged man hobbled around the city streets on crutches all day in the hot sun with a small box of books suspended from his neck. Another man with no legs wheeled an arm-powered cart, peddling books and souvenirs. A man who had lost both arms from the elbow down sold beautiful postcard-sized paintings. We didn’t discriminate; we bought it all.
During our extensive travels, we have encountered many desperately poor people in countries around the world. Our first glimpses with such vast, hopeless poverty shocked our senses. We were quickly overwhelmed by hordes of beggars looking to us personally for a short-term solution and desperate men encircling us like dogs, practically scratching each other’s eyes out to get our money. After months of seeing such behavior, we started to become disheartened and strangely numb to the human condition of poverty. We found ourselves indifferently passing by people who seemed genuinely in need because we were so jaded. We were so overwhelmed by our inability to help everyone so we subconsciously decided to help no one.
In recent months, our emotions regarding poverty have come full circle. Our sense of compassion, once lost, has returned. It is heart-wrenching to see such desperation – the kind of desperation understood only by those who have known true hunger and the heartbreak of malnourished children – on so many Cambodian faces. In a country with so little economic opportunity, Cambodians simply want to work and provide for their families. Every person with whom we transacted during our brief stay – the little girls who sold bracelets outside the temples; the bookselling amputees; our driver, Pisith, and our guide, Sadith – were overwhelmingly appreciative of our business. We were inspired and humbled by the graciousness and hope of the people. In a war-ravaged country like Cambodia, not so very far from Year Zero, little things truly mean a lot.
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Many homes along the roadside were made of woven leaves and bamboo poles while others were built more solidly of wood or stone; almost all of the were built upon stilts, creating a shaded living area underneath, used for storage, lounging and cooking. The homes separated the main road from a vast expanse of glistening rice fields. Chickens ran wild in the villages. Giant gray water buffaloes grazed the fields and soaked in pools of water collected in the trough-shaped paddies. The youngest children ran around stark naked and many older children had no shoes. Animal-powered carts and bicycles were the most common modes of transportation outside the city. The poverty and the landscape bore a striking resemblance to certain parts of Africa, particularly Mozambique. The distant expressions on the faces of the men and women indicated that survival in Cambodia is a daily struggle.
Angkor Wat, meaning temple city, is the flagship of the Temples of Angkor. It is thought to be the largest religious structure in the world. It is surrounded by a moat so wide (190 meters) that I thought it was a river at first glance. As we crossed the moat over the sandstone causeway and walked through the richly decorated stone entrance, the remarkable silhouette of Angkor Wat stood majestically in the distance, its domed towers pointing to the sky. As we approached the central structure, large pools on each side of the main walkway caught the temple’s reflection for a dazzling effect.
Nearby Ta Prohm was a Buddhist temple dedicated to the mother of Jayavarman VII. It is much less well-preserved than some of the other temples – with piles of rubble from fallen stones – and sits rotting in a greenish pall. The temple was built from large blocks of porous lava rock and sandstone, which are now blackened from acid rain and covered in thin moss. Walking through the corridors, it was fascinating to note that the slanted roof was made constructed by laying the heavy stones in balance with one another; there is no mortar holding them together.
The temple was also built by Jayavarman VII and the faces are said to closely resemble his own. The faces are said to represent the four tenets of Buddhism: love & kindness, compassion, sympathy, equanimity. Even without an understanding of Buddhism, one cannot escape the powerful, disarming sensation of being watched by so many faces at once. It is easy to imagine the awe and intimidation that Bayon once commanded of the masses.