The Sun Sets On Another Year

After the year we’ve had, I think most people are looking forward to waving a firm goodbye to 2016 and welcoming 2017 with open arms. I mean, it can’t get any worse can it? Brexit and Trump, the war in Syria, mass shootings, terrorist attacks, the loss of Alan Rickman, David Bowie, Prince, Victoria Wood, Muhammad Ali, Elie Wiesel, Gene Wilder, Leonard Cohen, and then in the final few days a flurry of George Michael, Richard Adams, Carrie Fisher, and Debbie Reynolds. I don’t usually swear on my blog but I think at this point it’s fair to say “2016, fuck off!”

And yet … it’s not been all bad. Ok, it’s been pretty terrible but a few good things did happen in 2016. They may have passed you by, buried beneath headlines about Brexit and the American election and nuclear weapons and Syria and the refugee crisis but they’ve been there. So I’m returning to my usual happy self and reminding you of ten happy events of 2016 to restore some faith in our planet and humankind.

10. Ebola was cleared from West Africa.

9. 200 strangers went to the funeral of a homeless World War II veteran with no family.

8. Humpback whales, grizzly bears, manatees, and giant pandas all moved (positively) up the endangered list.

7. 800 of the Boko Harem hostages were rescued and returned to their families.

6. The hole in the ozone layer has shrunk by 3.9 million square kilometres in the past ten years

5. Volunteers in India planted 50 million trees in 24 hours.

4. Scientific breakthroughs in chemotherapy are increasing survival rates.

3. The Paris climate change agreement became international law in November.

2. The worldwide charitable drive for ALS in 2014 has led to scientists isolating the gene responsible and they have begun to work on a therapy.

1. Charitable giving and acts saw a significant increase worldwide.

Of course, the last one is a subject particularly close to my heart. I doubt I can claim my own charity, SKOPE, had much to do with the increase in charity across the globe but I’m proud to have been part of it. Both in my role as SKOPE coordinator and as a happiness ambassador to More Good Deeds, I read a lot about giving to charity, philanthropy, and how to involve people in charitable works. But it seems I needn’t bother, because everywhere you look there are signs of generosity, both financial and in other ways. Giving your time, your energy, your commitment, and your money all help charities. With politics in turmoil across the globe, it is down to us, the little people, to do that work on the ground. Whether in refugee camps ladling out soup each morning, or in medical tents outside obliterated cities like Aleppo, or even my own charity, handing out library books or stationary in a school in Cambodia, it all matters. It all makes a difference. And every one of us can get involved.

So let’s end 2016 on a positive note and look forward to 2017 with hope in our hearts. After all, it can only go up from here! I hope every one of you has a great time celebrating New Year’s Eve tonight and I’ll see you on the other side.

“Burn it to a crisp or leave it raw”: Cambodian Proverbs

I’ve always been interested in cultures, specifically the differences between them. Anthropology was one of my favourite subjects at university and I continued this interest by focusing my masters’ research on Cambodia. Oh, and living in Cambodia. The culture here is unique, special, and fascinating. Recently I’ve been doing some research work which brought me into contact with some traditional Khmer proverbs. I thought I’d share some with you today as a way to offer an insight into this amazing country in which I live. And then comment on them in humorous ways, naturally.

  • “Negotiate a river by following its bends, enter a country by following its customs.”

This is important everywhere and recently Cambodia has had some problems with tourists. Naked selfies at Angkor Wat, for example. I mean, what? Who in their right mind would do that? Angkor Wat is the largest religious monument in the world. You wouldn’t walk into St. Paul’s Cathedral and strip down so why is it ok to do so at Angkor? It isn’t, they got deported.contentimage-11719-239906-knustetallerkener

  • “Don’t let an angry man wash dishes; don’t let a hungry man guard rice.”

Well, yeah, that makes sense. Although in Cambodia men rarely do the washing up so I’m not entirely sure where this came from. It’s logical though, I’ll admit.

  • “A bunch of sticks cannot be broken.”

I take this to mean alone one person can be weak/vulnerable but together we can be strong. Agreed; teamwork is the way forwards. Although, let’s be honest, a chainsaw would get through a bunch of sticks … *cough* CPP *cough*.

  • “If you know a lot, know enough to make them respect you. If you are stupid, be
    stupid enough so they can pity you.”

So basically don’t get Cs in your exams …

  • “The tiger depends on the forest; the forest depends on the tiger.”

I’ll amend this to the tiger depended on the forest … Cambodia no longer has any tigers left in the wild since they were hunted into extinction. So I suppose whoever was making their living from selling the skins didn’t hear this proverb. But more broadly, everything is interconnected; everything is important.

  • “The immature rice stalk stands erect, while the mature stalk, heavy with grain, bends over.”

Respect your (hunchbacked) elders. True, and Cambodia does this more than most western countries.

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  • “Active hands, full bellies.”

Tend your crops and reap the rewards. Makes sense, right? The more rice you plant, the more you grow to eat/sell. That can be expanded out though; work harder to earn more money.

  • “For news of the heart, ask the face.”

I like this one. Emotions show on our faces even without our knowledge. You can always tell when a friend is upset or happy or confused or in love. And they can’t hide it from those who know them best.

  • “Catch a fish without muddying the water.”

AKA be discrete. True; if you catch one fish and the water is still clear, you’ll be able to catch another. Two fish – yummy.

  • “If you are doing wrong, make sure you don’t get fat from it.”

I have no idea what this means, but I like it. Does it mean, don’t eat pizza?

  • “You don’t have to cut a tree down to get at the fruit.”

This is important in Cambodia because most people favour immediate gratification over long-term gains. So yes, you could cut down a tree to get every piece of fruit from the highest branches but then what happens next year? Make a ladder, climb up, be patient and work hard and you will receive more in the long term.

  • “Burn it to a crisp or leave it raw.”

If you’re going to do something, commit to it! Obviously this doesn’t apply to food. You can cook without taking this proverb seriously …

  • “Love is blind.”

Awwww, how cute! My Khmer friend told me this one and clearly it’s a worldwide belief. It’s true; sometimes who we’re attracted to has nothing to do with physical attributes. And why should it? It’s what’s on the inside that counts.

  • “Physical death is better than the death of your reputation.”

Is it? To be honest, I disagree but it highlights just how much importance Cambodians put on how they are viewed by others.

  • “If there is water, there is fish.”

My friend told me this one … he was rather upset when I told him I was drinking a glass of fish-less water at the time.

  • “Men are like gold, women are like white cloth.”

This sums up Khmer traditions perfectly. Scandals stick to women but the men can walk away from the mess without any repercussions. It’s accepted that men visit prostitutes before they are married but women are expected to be virgins. If a man cheats on his wife, oh well. If a woman cheats on her husband, all hell breaks loose. Different expectations for different genders are increasingly archaic as a concept and I hope to see Cambodia moving on from this soon.

So there you have it; a few of my favourite proverbs from Cambodia. There are many more but some of them don’t make sense, some of them I don’t understand and some are just plain weird! But I hope they’ve entertained you and contributed to your understanding of this amazing country.

You can’t put a price on life

Growing up in the UK meant I took certain things for granted. The fact that my mother tongue was the universal language was one. The freedom to move around Europe was another (a topic for a future blog perhaps). But the aspect of my life in the UK which I didn’t even consider remotely extraordinary or unusual was the ability to visit my local GP or hospital at any time and receive free, high-quality medical treatment.

The National Health Service. The NHS. Founded in 1948, it is the world’s largest publicly funded health service. As a child, if ever I was sick or injured (a rare occurrence, admittedly), my parents were able to take me down to the doctor’s office and treatment was administered, free of charge. It was as simple as that. It wasn’t until I began to travel and meet people who lived in other countries that I realised just what a wonderful amenity the NHS is and will hopefully continue to be.

And it isn’t because the UK is a developed country. It was being friends with Americans which made me really think about just how lucky the UK is. Yes, we pay our taxes to contribute toward this expansive health care system. But those few thousands of pounds are a small price to pay for, potentially, an unlimited number of doctor’s visits in our lifetimes. In America, when someone gets ill, insurance companies will do anything not to pay out. Recently, my friend’s father was diagnosed with stage four cancer in his neck and head. The insurance company paid for surgery to remove the lymph nodes but refused to cover a prothesis which would allow him to eat and speak normally after the removal of a significant proportion of his pallet. Over $10,000 was fundraised by his friends and family all over the world to pay for what the insurance company claimed was a cosmetic device. A nose-job is cosmetic Breast enlargement is cosmetic. Eating and speaking normally however? That’s just a basic human right.

America now proudly boasts Obamacare after the passing of the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act in 2010. I didn’t really know what this was until I did some research for this blog. Basically, it’s affordable health insurance. Employers are encouraged to cover their employees and there are fines for those who don’t. Employees usually pay into this insurance scheme out of their wages so it’s not free: yes, they’re usually covered when they get sick but they’ve still paid for the privilege of being treated. USA Government insurance is expanding, but still only covers 33% of the population; predominantly the elderly. And just under one in ten Americans are still uninsured. That’s 30,000,000 people. What happens when they get ill?

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In Cambodia, life is cheap. Road traffic accidents kill six people per day. It’s not usually the crash itself which kills people; it’s the slow ambulance response times, poorly trained medical professionals, and a lack of funds to pay for treatment. Last month, a friend of mine got into a moto accident. His foot was crushed by the oncoming moto and by the time he got to hospital and was seen by a doctor (close to 12 hours later), they were unsure whether they were going to be able to save his foot. They needed to operate. Immediately. Well, as soon as the doctors were paid $2,000. So my friend lay in a hospital bed, dosed up on morphine, surrounded by worried friends and family who suddenly had to find the money to prevent an amputation. Luckily, they were able to do so and my friend is now recovering well. Another online fundraising campaign raised $6,000 towards the total $9,000 cost of the treatment. The moto accident was not his fault. The driver of the other moto ran off.

Neither of these fundraising examples should have had to happen. Everyone deserves two feet. Everyone deserves to be able to eat and speak. Everyone deserves to live, come to that. Urgent, necessary medical treatment should not be money-dependent. Just because someone is poor or their insurance company is devoid of any morals or human decency, doesn’t mean their life has less value nor do they deserve a lower-quality of doctor.

I regularly see crowd-funding links shared by my Cambodian and American friends to pay for medical bills for themselves or family members. Health care is a basic human right, a principal behind the founding of the NHS. I understand that the costs of running such a service are colossal and I appreciate that some people don’t like to pay taxes. But you know what I don’t like? The fact that every day thousands of impoverished people die from preventable, treatable diseases because they cannot afford to seek medical help. It’s 2016; the world has moved on from the time of emperors and slaves, lords and serfs, we’re supposed to be living in a time of equal opportunity. And yet the most important thing in our lives, our health, still comes with a price tag in many countries.

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The NHS has three core principles:

  • that it meet the needs of everyone
  • that it be free at the point of delivery
  • that it be based on clinical need, not ability to pay

Sounds good, right? Yeah, people should be able to receive treatment for medical issues, regardless of their, let’s be honest, financial status. Sickness and accidents don’t differentiate between rich and poor. Cancer doesn’t choose its victims based on their bank statements. Lorry drivers don’t fall asleep at the wheel and only plough into the back of Rolls Royces and Bentleys. It can happen to anyone. It does happen to anyone. And everyone should be entitled to the medical facilities which can make them better again.

The NHS isn’t perfect, I get that. But consider the alternative. Without a public health care service, medical treatment becomes a luxury many can’t afford and that’s not fair. Let’s not allow the UK to succumb to the pressure of the private sector. The government cuts are chipping away at the services piece by piece. Doctors and nurses feel undervalued and I can imagine the temptation they feel towards moving into private practice, even if they believe in the concept of free health care. Let’s fight for our NHS and keep this life-saving, admirable, honourable, and proud institution open, well-funded, and supported for future generations.

The Battle of the Somme: One hundred years on

Today marks one hundred years since the start of the Battle of the Somme, one of the most notorious events of World War One. The Somme is a river in France and its name comes from the Celtic word for tranquility. But it became one of the fiercest, bloodiest and muddiest battles in human history on 1st Jury 1916. On this single day, one hundred years ago, the British Expeditionary Forces (BEF) sustained over 57,000 casualties. Just two years earlier, when war against Germany was waged, the BEF consisted of 710,000 men. Conscription had been introduced less than six months earlier, January 1916, in a desperate attempt to fill the massive void caused by the brutal trench warfare being fought on the ground throughout Europe. South African troops in particular were drafted in for this planned offensive.

Battle_of_the_Somme_1916_mapFew people in the world today were alive on 1st July 1916, but the impact of this day sent shockwaves through England and continues to be something widely taught in schools because of the repercussions on society as a whole. The Battle of the Somme raged for five months, turning a tiny strip of land in France, barely fifteen miles long, into a muddy, bloody, quagmire. Although the offensive push was precluded by days of heavy artillery fire, the barbed defences of the deeply entrenched Germans were impenetrable and as the British and South African soldiers poured over the lip of their “safe” trenches and into No Man’s Land, they were systematically gunned down as they attempted to advance. There were tiny victories, snatching a few metres here and there as they advanced depressingly slowly towards the well-dug-in Germans. After 141 days of endless fighting on both sides, there was little alive left on the landscape and well over one million men had been killed. An average of four miles had been gained. Villages and farms had be razed to the ground.

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Paul Nash’s iconic We Are Making a New World (1918)

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This is a photo of the village of Pozières, taken on 28th August 1916
The Thiepval Memorial, located mere miles from where the Battle of the Somme was fought, is engraved with 72,195 names. These are the names of the missing. Soldiers who were never recovered, their bodies abandoned to the heavy artillery fire in No Man’s Land as their comrades huddled in waterlogged trenches and were sent, day after day, over the top by General Douglas Haig. This is one of the battles in which the phrase Lions Led by Donkeys, seems particularly poignant to me.

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We must never forget what happened that day, nor every other day during both World War One and World War Two. The Great War was the war to end all wars and yet just twenty-one years later Europe was divided again. Why? Had the painful memories of loss, death, and destruction really faded that fast? And what can we do to ensure future generations don’t forget either? The truth is, people hadn’t forgotten. People didn’t want a war; they knew what it would mean. But the movement of Hitler and the Nazis on the continent forced Britain’s and her Allies’ hands. We declared war when we were only just beginning to heal from the devastating effects of the last bloody battle. Britain didn’t want war. It wanted peace and unity.

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Troops in a Somme battlefield trench
I had this blog post planned in my mind for over a year. As a historian, not only do dates stick in my mind but I think it’s very important to remember events such as this, especially those which are so comparatively recent. As it happens, this blog is even more pertinent given the outcome of the EU Referendum last week. I’ve already written on this subject so I will not go into more details here. But what I will say is that the Battle of the Somme was just one event of the war. World War One claimed 17 million lives and injured over 20 million more. World War Two claimed an estimated 60 million lives, and injury numbers are unknown. Since the formation and continued expansion of the European Union, we have enjoyed relative peace for seventy years. What happens next? What happens now that unity is shattered? What happens now those peace treaties and those friendships are irrevocably severed? What happens to peace?

Lest we forget.

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One of my favourite war-time poems

Happy-Go-Lucky

I’m a generally happy person, always have been I suppose. But over the last couple of weeks I’ve started thinking more about happiness: what it is, where it comes from, and how we can achieve it. Which is an interesting thing to be thinking about in a Buddhist country where the local belief system teaches us not to focus on emotions, which are fleeting and ever-changing, but to concentrate instead on clearing our minds of any and all desires, hopes, and fears. Only then will we know true peace.

These thoughts were kickstarted by an article sent to me by my godmother, illustrating the findings of the World Happiness Report 2016. You didn’t read it? Here’s a summary of what is found to make people and countries happy:

  1. Social support so that you have friends and family to count on in times of trouble
  2. Freedom to choose what you do in life
  3. Generosity and how much people donate to charity
  4. Absence of corruption in business and government
  5. GDP
  6. Healthy life expectancy

The reason this article was sent to me was because of the third point. You see, supporting SKOPE by clicking on our Crowdfunder page now and donating some money will make you happy … Sorry, I digress. But yes, giving to charity makes people happy so I like to think that a significant part of why I’m happy out here in Cambodia is because I work for a charity I truly believe to be making a difference. I also have an amazing group of friends, both in Cambodia, the UK, and now around the world (expats move a lot). Thanks to Skype, Whats App and Facebook the distance hardly matters and I know I can rely on them when things get tough. As for choosing what I want to do in life? I’d say I was doing exactly what I want to do right now with no thought about how my choice will affect anyone but me. And I have the freedom to be selfish like this because of my abundance of point number one. But what about the last three points?

Cambodia ranked 140th out of 157 countries for the World Happiness Rankings 2013-15. Obviously it’s impossible to know exactly why Cambodians scored so poorly but let’s take a look at points 4, 5, and 6 in relation to this country I currently call home.

Corruption. Every year Transparency International publishes corruption indexes and every year there is some politician in Cambodia complaining that the figures are bias and incorrect. In 2013, Cambodian came 160th out of 177 countries. The UK came 14th. In 2014, Cambodia came 156th out of 175 countries. The UK came 14th again. In 2015, Cambodia came 150th out of 168 countries. The UK came 10th. Cambodia is one of the most corrupt countries in the world. Millions of dollars of aid flood into the country every year and significant portions of that money is unaccounted for. Well, unless you happen to drive past the Independence Monument and glance at the house on the corner of Norodom Boulevard and Sihanouk Boulevard. I’ll say no more here in case I’m deported but those of you who know Phnom Penh will know exactly whose house I’m talking about.

The current Gross Domestic Product of Cambodia is $16.78 billion. The population is 15.33 million. Imagine this product was divided fairly: each Cambodian would receive $1094.59 per annum. The current GDP of the UK is $2.989 trillion. The population is 64.51 million. If this product was divided fairly, each Brit would receive $46,333.90. And people say money can’t buy happiness.

Finally let’s take a look at the average life expectancy. Cambodia’s health care system is … limited. The average life expectancy in Cambodia is 71 years. In Vietnam it’s 75 and in Thailand it’s 74. And the UK races ahead with 81 years. Well it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to work out you’re more likely to be happy if you’re not anticipating your life coming to an end earlier than modern science should allow.

So in conclusion, if your country’s government is full of greedy, selfish, soulless men (yes, it is mostly men), grasping desperately to their power and killing (literally) potential political rivals, if you’re a policeman getting paid $70 per month or a salt-fields worker paid just a couple of dollars per day, and if you’re quite likely to meet an untimely end when you fall sick with a curable illness but don’t have the money to pay your poorly trained local doctor to cure you, you’re quite likely to be unhappy.

As a side note, when the word ‘happy’ first entered the English language towards the end of the 14th century, it meant lucky. Perhaps it still does today: from the facts and figures above and if we want to make a sweeping generalisation we are happy if we are lucky enough to be born in the right country. I’d describe myself as a happy-go-lucky person but would that be the case if I had been born in Cambodia? I’d like to think so: I love this country! But the figures suggest otherwise.

But I don’t want this to be a depressive blog entry, so I’m going to end with some comments from my Grade 5 class. For their journal activity this week, I asked them: “What makes you happy?” Their simple answers will warm your hearts.

  • I was happy when I went to see a fox at the zoo – David
  • I am happy when I am watching Cartoon Network – Mony
  • I was happy when I got a new helmet because I don’t want my head to be broken – Sak
  • I am happy when I have a lot of friends who like to play with me because they are very funny – Sasda
  • I am happy when I don’t have spellings – Piseth
  • I am happy when Teacher Ruth says my point is good – Sokheng
  • I am happy when I am eating pizza and listening to music – Bush
  • I am happy when I am reading my storybook – Sovannary
  • I am happy when I have lots of noodles to eat – Davy

Sometimes, you just need to remember that children make up about 27 per cent of the world’s population and those in Cambodia have some of the brightest smiles.

Oh and in case you’re interested the UK came 23rd out of 157 countries in the world happiness rankings 2013-15.

To read more about the reports and articles mentioned above, click on these links.

http://whatworkswellbeing.org

http://worldhappiness.report/ed/2016/

https://www.transparency.org

Ruth Lemon BA, MA

Life is full of twists and turns. OK most of mine revolve around Cambodia: every decision somehow bringing me back to this wonderful country, but I could not have predicted what happened this week.

I’ll set the scene:

I visited the University of Warwick campus in the summer of 2000 when I was 10 years old. I was visiting my big brother Jamie where he was studying Politics and Sociology and we went to see him performing in Guys and Dolls. My mother is an alumnus Warwick as well and I was in awe of this shiny, exciting, vibrant university campus. I resolved there and then that I was going to attend this fantastic institution. But then I had to actually study. Which I did really (quite) diligently until I was sixteen. Seriously, my GCSEs were great! Just a shame those qualifications literally mean nothing in the real world. So when I left high school with three B’s (in English, Maths, and History) for my A levels, the university ranked number six in the country funnily enough rejected my application.

Huh. Life plan scuppered.

What to do? Hide in Cambodia for seven months and volunteer in an orphanage whilst thinking up a back-up plan, of course.

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Anna, Loung, me and Kirat in 2009

Back-up plan! Cardiff University. I loved my three years in the Welsh capital and I wouldn’t change it for the world (well, most of it). But Warwick still niggled at the back of my mind. So when I graduated in 2012 with a 2:1 in History and Sociology I … went to volunteer in Cambodia again. What? It’s like an addiction!

But then the money ran out and I came back to England. Equipped with my 2:1 BA in History and Sociology I began work … in a pub. I loved it, honestly! And then I realised I missed education and I wanted to go back. I wanted to learn again. I wanted more letters after my name.

But what to study?

Really? Is that even a question? Cambodian history, duh!

But where to study?

Well this was a little harder because, shockingly, there aren’t too many professors who are well read in Cambodian history. But through a wonderful, fantastic, bizarre twist of fate, one of the few universities which could accommodate me was Warwick!

My Masters by Research was basically a mini PhD. I had no lectures, no seminars and set my own research area. Cambodia, naturally. And I was wonderfully supported by my two supervisors throughout this process despite innumerable people advising me not to make my Masters research so niche. Obviously I didn’t listen.

So after five years and three mediocre A level results, I was finally at the university of my childhood dreams, studying my passion and surrounded by people who have become some of my closest friends.

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Top: Marie Louise, Helene, Sandra. Bottom: Alica, me, Ruth, Elyshia

And then, 58,000 words and 228 pages later, I was finished! Using oral histories I had analysed the Khmer Rouge rule and Cambodian society’s gendered expectations. I can tell you’re intrigued. Let me know if you want me to email you the PDF …

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The beasts!

So what to do now?

Go back to Cambodia, of course!

Only this time it was a little different. Instead of volunteering I had an actual job: teaching at Sovann Komar Orphanage and School. I moved to Phnom Penh. It was my new home. It is my home. See, I blog about it!

And even now my life is pulling me back to Warwick in the form of a great honour which has been bestowed upon me this week. You are, right now, reading the words and wisdom (?) of the University of Warwick’s Alumnus of the Month. Yes, the pleasure is all yours. I contacted Warwick because, rather big-headedly, I thought they might be interested in SKOPE, my charity. Turns out, they were! They offered to feature me on their alumni website detailing what I am doing in Cambodia and how I have moved from studying history Warwick to charity work. So if you’re not already bored of my waffling, please give it a read. It’s a far more informative, better written piece and will give any of you who don’t know an idea of what I’m doing out here in Cambodia.

BA, MA … PhD?

A Brief History of Cambodia

Today marks the 37th anniversary of the liberation of Cambodia from the Khmer Rouge forces. As such, I have a day off work and decided to recycle an essay I initially wrote to be included in my Masters thesis. It never appeared in its entirety so I decided to publish it here. I hope you enjoy, or at least find informative, my brief history of Cambodia.

Happy Victory Day!

Cambodia is an ancient civilisation whose borders once spread far further than they do today. The Khmer Empire was unified in the ninth-century AD by Jayavarman II and by the fourteenth-century the then capital, Angkor, was the largest city in the world with a population of almost one million. Angkor Wat, the most famous of the country’s ancient shrines, was built in the early twelfth-century and enchants over one million tourists annually. During a visit to Cambodia in 1295 and 1296, thirteenth-century Chinese chronicler Zhou Daguan described Cambodians harvesting three or four crops per year, implying extensive irrigation systems and farming networks. The Angkor empire began to decline in the fifteenth-century, probably as a result of vast population growth which the country’s natural environment was unable to support. Cambodian territory was quickly lost to their Siamese and Vietnamese neighbours and the country shrank drastically in size. Cambodia once again became dependent on the elements as the irrigation systems fell into disrepair so the best the rural population could hope for was one rice crop per year.

Wars between Thailand and Vietnam battling for control over Cambodia plagued the country, leading King Norodom to sign a treaty with France in 1863, exchanging protection for natural resources. However, the king was reluctant to follow French orders, despite their support in quashing Vietnamese invasions, and failed to fulfil many of the treaty’s conditions. Norodom’s successor, King Sisowath, helped the French evict the last of the Thais in the early twentieth-century. Only then was slavery abolished, a promise Norodom had made in 1863. In 1935 the first high school was built in Phnom Penh although its students were predominantly children from privileged homes, including the Royal family. Several other high schools were built subsequently, all in Phnom Penh. Each year, a few dozen students were sent to study in Paris, in the hope they would return to Cambodia to play key roles in the French colonial government.

One of the students sent to Paris in 1949 was Saloth Sar whom the world now knows by his nom de guerre, Pol Pot. Pol Pot’s older sister was one of the king’s favourite concubine and this afforded him the opportunity to attend high school. Whilst in France he joined the communist movement and met numerous like-minded Cambodians, most of whom would become key members in the Khmer Rouge organisation upon their return to Cambodia:  Ieng Sary became Foreign Minister, Khieu Samphan became the President of State, and Son Sen became the Chief of Staff of Khmer Rouge forces. The only significant political figure to not study in Paris was Nuon Chea who became the party Deputy Secretary.

King Norodom Sihanouk achieved independence for Cambodia in 1953. In 1955, Sihanouk abdicated and founded a political party, the People’s Socialist Community, leading the country as Prince Sihanouk until 1970. In 1965, Sihanouk cut ties with the US, partly in an attempt to keep Cambodia out of the Vietnam War, and instead turned to China for aid. An underground communist movement had begun to form since 1961 and Pol Pot, Ieng Sary, Nuon Chea, and So Phim formed the standing committee of the Khmer Communists as a national military uprising began in 1967. By 1970, they controlled almost 20 percent of Cambodia’s territory, mostly around their headquarters in the North East.

On 18 March 1970, a military coup led by Lon Nol ousted Sihanouk from power, who subsequently fled to Beijing. Sihanouk enjoyed huge support from the population as the patriarch who achieved independence for the country and there was outrage amongst Cambodians. As villagers marched on Phnom Penh in a demonstration against Lon Nol, the new head of state ordered his troops to open fire on hundreds of protestors who fled back to the countryside. Many demonstrators ran straight to join the Khmer Rouge. Mere weeks after the coup, Sihanouk announced he had allied himself with the Khmer Rouge to form the National United Front of Kampuchea. Upon hearing their revered leader profess his support for this little known group of activists, thousands of Cambodians left their villages and went into the jungle to join the Khmer Rouge movement.

Lon Nol rekindled the alliance with the US, giving permission to bomb Cambodian territory in an attempt to dislodge Viet Cong troops based on the Vietnam border. The devastation which these air raids brought upon the Cambodian countryside in the east pushed even more villagers to join the rebel forces in the jungle. Historians including David P. Chandler and Ben Kiernan have surmised that without Lon Nol’s coup and subsequent political decisions, the Khmer Rouge would never have achieved enough support to gain power.

Support for the Khmer Rouge grew steadily as living conditions under Lon Nol deteriorated. With support from Vietnamese communists, the countryside was gradually brought under Khmer Rouge control and their military might grew as they moved further south. On 17 April 1975, Khmer Rouge soldiers marched into Phnom Penh and easily captured the country’s capital with surprisingly little bloodshed. Lon Nol and his aides fled and the country was renamed Democratic Kampuchea. Over the next few days, the Khmer Rouge steadily emptied the city of its three million inhabitants. Phnom Penh was a ghost town as were the rest of Cambodia’s significant urban centres including Battambang, Siem Reap, Kompong Som (Sihanoukville), Pailin, and Kampot. Despite soldiers’ reassurances that residents would return to their homes and lives within a few days, these cities would remain eerily deserted for the next three years, eight months and twenty days.

Cambodia was now under new management but information about who was really in charge was sparse and confusing. Some knew the name Pol Pot but Saloth Sar’s true identity was only uncovered in the 1980s. Throughout Cambodia, Khmer Rouge cadre rounded up the local population and forced them to work the land. Treatment of the population varied according to who was in charge of the specific Zone. For example Ta Mok, Brother Number Five, had a fearsome reputation in the South West Zone whereas the Eastern Zone under So Phim was notably more lenient. Despite inconsistencies, several directives were implemented throughout the country. Everyone had to work: men and women were separated into different work groups (krom), children over the age of five were put to work, and the elderly were charged with caring for the youngest children. The whole country was to be harvested: rice was planted in every available plot and forests were felled to create more agricultural land. Eating and living became a communal affair with ownership of anything prohibited. Money was abolished and family was replaced by “Angkar” or “The Organisation”. Relationships between men and women were strictly policed and marriages were usually arranged by, and had to be approved by, Angkar.

Throughout all this dramatic change, Pol Pot remained a mysterious figure, shrouded in confusion and myth. The ill-informed population were afraid to speak up after witnessing brutal attacks on their fellow villagers who had dared to defy the new command structure. Soldiers of the Lon Nol regime were killed instantly, often along with their entire family, and those who were well educated also found their lives endangered. The regime was paranoid and regularly purged its members, many of whom passed through Tuol Sleng, a former high school in Phnom Penh which had been turned into a torture centre under the command of Kang Kek Lew (alias Duch). Only seven men are known to have survived the place because after prisoners confessed to various crimes, usually under torture, they were transported to Choeung Ek killing field were they were murdered and buried in mass graves.

Despite Cambodia being turned into an immense agricultural machine powered by eight million slaves, rice rations depleted steadily throughout the regime. Dock workers stationed at Kompong Som, Cambodia’s primary port, recall seeing vast shipments of rice being sent from the coast daily, mostly to China but also to North Korea and some as far as Yugoslavia. As Khmer Rouge leaders sold the fruits of the population’s labour and strengthened themselves militarily though an improved relationship with China, the masses steadily starved, hundreds dying daily of malnourishment and diseases their bodies were too frail to fight without access to appropriate health care. Those caught stealing food, even children, were usually killed. An entire country lived in fear, worked to exhaustion, and starved until they were so weak they were unable to do anything but struggle to survive.

In many ways, the fall of the regime was self-inflicted. Pol Pot overestimated his military strength and throughout 1978 launched a series of attacks along the Vietnam border as he attempted to reclaim areas of the Mekong Delta. These attacks eventually sparked retaliation and Vietnam invaded on 25 December 1978. The Khmer Rouge attempted to defend their territory but without the support of the population, they had little choice but to flee to the jungles. On 7 January 1979, after meeting very little resistance during their advance, Phnom Penh was occupied by Vietnamese troops. Remaining Khmer Rouge loyalists ran west towards the Thai border along with many locals who feared the Vietnamese soldiers and wanted to escape: some made it to refugee camps in Thailand, others were recruited into the Khmer Rouge.

Cambodia had been liberated but the country lay ruined. The Vietnamese and Cambodians are ancient enemies and many locals were apprehensive about their saviours’ presence. Hundreds of thousands of refugees headed to Thailand, filling border camps and attempting to relocate to any western country. The daily running of Cambodia was taken over Vietnam, much to the dismay of the US. In 1985, the Vietnamese placed Hun Sen in the position of Prime Minister where he remain to this day.

In 1989 Khmer Rouge forces captured Pailin and secured it as the organisation’s stronghold. Pailin is a city on the Thai border, rich in natural resources, specifically lumber and gemstones, the exportation of which allowed the Khmer Rouge to continue funding their military operations. On 23 October 1991 the four political factions within Cambodia, Hun Sen, Prince Ranariddh, Son Sann, and the Khmer Rouge, signed the Paris Peace Accords whose conditions included an immediate ceasefire, the demobilisation of the armies, the repatriation of almost 400,000 refugees, and national elections held by mid-1993. The signing did little to improve conditions within Cambodia. In 1992 the United Nations became involved in their most ambitious mission to date, attempting to rebuild infrastructure, establish democracy, and defeat the few Khmer Rouge soldiers believed to remain active. The military strength and numerical superiority of the Khmer Rouge soldiers was vastly underestimated however and the UN failed to remove the continued threat. The mission was abandoned for cost issues and Cambodia became irrelevant to the western world once more.

From 1997 factions began to show between remaining Khmer Rouge soldiers, mostly living in their stronghold Pailin, and many were murdered by their former comrades. In 1998 Pol Pot died peacefully in his home and in 1999 the last of the active Khmer Rouge soldiers were arrested. Some were imprisoned and after extensive deliberation the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia was established to bring justice to notable perpetrators. The rest of the Khmer Rouge soldiers simply slipped back into normal life as if nothing had happened.

For over a decade, Cambodia witnessed fierce political fights, primarily between Hun Sen, Prince Ranariddh, and Sam Rainsy. In 2006 Prince Ranariddh was voted out of the Funcinpec political party and Hun Sen became the undisputed leader. Corruption within Cambodia is seen as an accepted part of life with vast quantities of international aid money and supplies disappearing annually without explanation. With more NGOs than any other country, thousands of well meaning people battle the system daily, attempting to offer support and aid to those with no legal rights or support. Despite being freed from an oppressive regime over thirty years ago, conditions today can be equally as harsh and unforgiving for the country’s poor. However as the US Ambassador for Cambodia from 1999 to 2002 Kent Wiedemann stated “we don’t have any major national interests here” and therefore the western world has only made a limited effort to assist. Significant amounts of assistance which does arrive never reaches those whom it was intended to help.

Seven Years in the Making

It will be seven years in January since I first left England to live in Cambodia, on and off of course. But it wasn’t until November 2015 that my parents finally came to visit me. And I had to make sure the holiday was worth the wait.

The route:

Siem Reap

Phnom Penh

Kampot

Phnom Penh

Mondulkiri

Phnom Penh

The reason we went to Phnom Penh three times? Because Cambodia’s road network looks like a spider with every highway stemming from the capital and none of them linking up outside of the metropolis.

So let’s start with the temples in Siem Reap. This wasn’t a difficult part of the holiday to make awesome. I mean, it’s Angkor Wat! The ancient structures wow over one million tourists every year and my parents were among them as we wandered through the colossal stone structures. We actually started, rather unorthodoxly, with Ta Prohm. This is my favourite temple and also the one where Tomb Raider was filmed (for about one minute). It’s been left partially to the jungle with giant trees draped over the stones and undergrowth slowly encroaching from all sides. It’s magical.

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Big tree, teeny tiny parentals

On to Bayon which is part of Angkor Thom. Basically it’s the one with the big faces everyone knows. 

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Angkor Wat was our final stop on our first day. It’s just as amazing to me now as it first was almost ten years ago. Unfortunately some health and safety laws have come into play (yes even in Cambodia our fun is ruined) and because of building works we weren’t able to climb to the very top. Still pretty cool though, right?

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Angkor Wat Selfie!

On our second day we headed out to the Tonle Sap lake where you can visit fishing villages which float on this giant body of water. To be honest, I wouldn’t recommend the experience. I went a few years ago and since then the site has become a money making, tourist extorting, generally unpleasant place to be. The village itself is picturesque but you get constantly asked to donate rice to children who are “orphans”. $50 for a twenty kilo bag of rice! It should cost about $10. And even after I explained that I work at an orphanage, they still tried to get us to donate money. It was pushy, rude, misleading and left us with a sour taste in our mouths. And then to top it off, as soon as we disembarked from the boat, a little girl appeared trying to sell me a ceramic plate with a picture of my own face on! Creepy or what?

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Traditional floating village scene

The day got better though when we hiked up a stupidly steep hill to a temple and discovered a wonderful view over the Tonle Sap lake. In fact, after a brief meeting I had arranged for my SKOPE project, we returned that evening and watched a glorious sunset.

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The final day in Siem Reap took us out to the remote temples: Kbal Spean and Banteay Srey. The former is actually not a temple but carvings in a river bed. Different, beautiful, and rewarding after the 1.5km hike up the hill.

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Kbal Spean

Banter Srey was nicer before it made its way onto the Chinese tourist bus route. It’s a tiny temple made of pink sandstone with the most intricate and beautiful carvings over every inch of it.

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Banteay Srey

On the way back to the city, we stopped at the Landmine Museum where we were lucky enough to arrive at the same time an American worker was starting a tour which was incredibly informative even for someone who’s got a Masters in the subject. That evening we went to the Phare Cambodian Circus – amazing!

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That’s high!

I was glad to be leaving Siem Reap, to be honest. I was looking forward to going home and showing my parents a real Cambodian city rather than the tourist centre Siem Reap has become. The weekend in Phnom Penh was touristy too though: Royal Palace, National Museum, Wat Phnom, Riverside, accompanied by several of my favourite restaurants. They only got lost once (well, there was a miscommunication with Tuk Tuk Lady but she was terrified that she’d lost my parents when they didn’t reappear after they went to the Royal Palace!)

Kampot remains my favourite place in Cambodia and we spent three full days in the sleepy riverside town. To be honest there isn’t much to say about our wonderfully relaxing time. Our guesthouse, Greenhouse, was right on the bank of the river and my mum and I swam across at least once a day. We took a countryside tour to see the caves and rice paddies one day before having lunch in Kep, a seaside town famous for its crab. We also hired bicycles and cycled up to an old temple. The hill was incredibly steep but I was really looking forward to going back down … until my front tyre got a flat about thirty seconds into my downhill dash. Ever tried to carry a bicycle upside down on the back of a moto? The Khmers make it look easy – it’s not.

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Swimming in the Kampot river

Back up to Phnom Penh and my parents came into work with me (after getting lost in a tuk tuk again the night before). It was great for them to meet some of the kids I teach and also the children at Sovann Komar to whom they’ve donated money several times over the years. They also met my bosses and saw me in action in the classroom. My parents wanted to get presents for the kids and I suggested some world maps. Their geographical knowledge is generally poor (one kid pointed to Canada when I asked them to find Cambodia …) and I am really pushing for them to get a greater understanding of the world and other countries.

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Handing out maps in Grade 5
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Handing out maps in Grade 4

I then had to work on Saturday in the provinces (blog upcoming about that) so my parents spent Saturday morning doing the necessary but depressing genocide tour – Toul Sleng detention centre and Choeung Ek killing field. But then I returned and cheered them up with a takeaway and Tomb Raider (it’s obligatory viewing if you’re in Cambodia.)

Our final trip was up to Mondulkiri in the east of the country. I’d not been before so I was really excited. The town itself, Sen Monorom, is nothing special but the main attraction of the area are the elephants. There are several sanctuaries working up there to rescue these majestic beasts from logging work, tourist riding companies, and other industries. We first stayed at Tree Lodge in a wooden bungalow but  it was a little too rustic even for me. I mean, the spider in our bathroom was, legs included, the size of my hand. And the frog by my bed was huge too. We moved into a place with a ceiling which connected to the walls which connected to the floor the next day. Not sure how much safer it was though because my mum still managed to trip over a drain and fall down that evening. Funny in hindsight, slightly terrifying at the time when heard clattering noise, turned around and saw her rolling into the road.

Elephants are amazing. I mean, they’re just incredible. We went with a group called the Mondulkiri Project who have four elephants in 30 hectares of forest. Sophie, Princess, Lucky, and Chi Chan (moon in Khmer). We spent the morning feeding them bananas (Princess lived up to her name and insisted we place the food directly into her mouth) and following them as they wandered freely through the jungle.

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Feeding Sophie

We then had lunch before heading back down and over a “bridge” to a small waterfall where we were split into two groups so we could wash the elephants! One by one, Princess and Lucky waded into the water and sat down. You then see a rather strange sight of several Westerners in bikinis with scrubbing brushes around these amazing creatures. I washed Lucky with my parents and the whole experience was just spectacular!

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Elephant scrubbing!

And that was it! We headed back to Phnom Penh, spent an afternoon on the silk island, went to Raffles, did some last minute shopping and stocked up for the Christmas Markets I’ve since done for SKOPE (blog coming soon) and we were off back to England where my parents returned home after seven weeks of holiday and I came back after ten months to celebrate Christmas in the cold once more.

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Cheers to a bloody good holiday!
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Dad at Ta Prohm
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Mum at Ta Prohm
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Posing at one of the smaller temples
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Family Portrait
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Kids playing in the moat around Angkor Wat
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The classic shot
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Monks in Angkor Wat
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Fishing in the floating village
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Panorama from the top of the temple overlooking the swollen Tonle Sap Lake
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Even monks’ motos break sometimes

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A working pagoda beside Angkor Wat
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In the mouth of a tree on the way up to Kbal Spean
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First monsoon in a tuk tuk
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Fresh crab arriving in Kep
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Rice harvest
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The view over Kampot
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Caving
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Dad’s new best friend after he used the parentals’ binoculars
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New family pet?
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The moment mum caught the bag of bananas and nearly fell over in the river
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Just showing off my camera here …
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I was waiting for her to fall … she didn’t
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Sitting in the river on Silk Island on our penultimate day
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Final Cambodian sunset for me of 2015

Remembrance and Memorial

I am going to try my hardest not to allow this blog post to evolve into an academic essay … As a history graduate, and one who specialised in genocide, I am always keen to visit memorial sites to see the different ways in which a culture remembers the victims of war, massacres, genocide, or natural disaster. I even have a few favourites sites. Yes, I’m a bit weird! I don’t mean favourites in the typical sense I suppose, more places which are “well done”. Where a place of remembrance, compassion, and sadness offers visitors an inevitably difficult and emotional yet stimulating and educational experience.

I first discovered that a place so filled with death and sorrow could be not exactly pleasant but somewhere one wouldn’t mind spending time in Belgium and France. The Western Front of World War One saw some of the bloodiest fighting in history. Dotted throughout the Belgian and French countryside are war cemeteries where soldiers have been laid to rest. After studying this area in detail during my second year of university at Cardiff, I decided I wanted to cycle the route during the summer. The remembrance sites along the way range in size from a dozen or so graves to vast, iconic places such a Thiepval, a memorial to 72,190 British soldiers lost during the Battle of the Somme. By lost I mean lost, literally. Their bodies were never found, alive or dead. I arrived at this monstrous structure at about 9am one August morning, having cycled about 15 kilometres from the campsite where I had left my parents. I was struck by the peace and beauty of the countryside around it whilst this reminder stood symbolising that, less than one hundred years prior, I would have been standing on one of the fiercest battlefields known to man. Although Thiepval has an onsite information office and mini museum, I think many visitors get more of a sense of what happened just wandering around the structure, weaving in and out of the giant pillars and pausing every now and then to read a few of names. Some names have a poppy beside them left by a relative. Every year on July 1st, a memorial ceremony is held here. There are many other such monuments to the missing. The Menin Gate in Ypres, Belgium, bears the names of 54,400 soldiers whose last resting places are unknown. Every evening the Last Post is sounded by local buglers to remember the dead. Vimy Ridge in France is a Canadian monument commemorating 11,169 Canadian troops who went missing in action. Here also is an excellently preserved trench system where fantastic guides from Canada inform visitors about the events of the battle.

Thiepval - memorial to 72,190 missing British soldiers
Thiepval – memorial to 72,190 missing British and French soldiers
Vimy Ridge - memorial to 11,169 missing Canadian soldiers
Vimy Ridge – memorial to 11,169 missing Canadian soldiers

Each country has numerous cemeteries where soldiers whose bodies were found are buried. These cemeteries often have wreaths and flowers laid at graves or at the war memorial in the centre. Each country has their own style of remembrance. I personally think the British got theirs just right. Below are a few pictures from my trip of British, French, American and German cemeteries. As the Germans lost the war, they had very little say in how their fallen were buried. The British and Canadian cemeteries are expertly maintained by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission. The American graves are also immaculate. The German graveyards sadly show signs of neglect.

A British cemetery
A British cemetery
French cemetery, 15,000 graves
French cemetery, 15,000 graves
German cemetery with 44,000 graves complete with an old German bunker.
German cemetery, 44,000 graves complete with an old German bunker.
An American cemetery
An American cemetery

As the granddaughter of an Auschwitz survivor, I have also visited the notorious Nazi Germany concentration camp. I commend the way in which this incredibly sensitive, emotional, and traumatising subject is approached by the museum board there but I don’t consider this a place anyone would enjoy spending time. The tours are very informative, honest, and harrowing. It’s a must see, yet an entirely unpleasant experience. You leave feeling drained, weakened by the experience, and struggling to comprehend the horrors that occurred on the ground you just walked over. And I’m a student of genocide saying this.

The iconic Auschwitz railway and a Star of David wreath
The iconic Auschwitz railway and a Star of David wreath

Finally, the prompt to this blog being written, Cambodia’s Killing Fields. I have visited Tuol Sleng, the museum in Phnom Penh, many times. Tuol Sleng is a former high school which became a detention and torture centre during the Khmer Rouge. Approximately 14,000 men, women, and children passed through in barely three years. The museum itself is poorly done. The information plaques are scarce and they’ve gone more for the shock factor of leaving torture instruments around the place. And their biggest mistake was perhaps moving the entrance a few years ago and neglecting to move the huge introductory board so many naive tourists wander around now quite knowing what they are looking at until three quarters of the way around. Typical Cambodia.

Detainees at Tuol Sleng were taken outside the city to be killed, to a place called the Killing Fields, or Choeung Ek. This was just one of hundreds of killing fields in Cambodia during the Khmer Rouge. However, it is by far the biggest and the most well known. I always thought that, much like Thiepval, it is an oddly peaceful place to visit, despite the huge stupa filled with skulls of victims in the middle of the site. I returned to Choeung Ek for the first time in six years last weekend as a friend was visiting from England. It is now one of the best memorial sites I have ever visited. Complete with a personal audio guide, visitors are slowly and carefully guided around the well-maintained site, given all the information required to understand what happened here, with the option to listen to more if they wish. Of particular interest to me were the oral testimonies they had recorded, of both victims and perpetrators. The inclusion of the latter is, in my opinion, very important.

The mass graves at Choeng Ek are now covered and surrounded, protecting them from the erosion. It was these mass graves that, for me, best memorialised the Khmer Rouge. Each grave’s fence post is covered with brightly coloured bracelets, left by thousands of tourists and visitors. The sight is breathtaking. This little tradition offers visitors a chance to leave something of themselves at the site, to acknowledge they are saddened by the events, and to commemorate the lives lost there. It’s not a typical form of memorialisation, and I seriously doubt it is an official one, or one the designers of Choeung Ek even had in mind. But it is a beautiful and moving way to remember those who lost their lives at this place.

A mass grave at Choeung Ek
A mass grave at Choeung Ek
The tree against which children and babies were swung to kill them at Choeung Ek
The tree against which children and babies were swung to kill them at Choeung Ek
A religious shrine, covered with colourful bracelets at Choeung Ek
A religious shrine, covered with colourful bracelets at Choeung Ek
The skulls contained in Choeung Ek's memorial stupa
The skulls contained in Choeung Ek’s memorial stupa

I will end this blog with a quote from my Grandpa, Ignacz Rüb. My Grandpa, lost every member of his family except one sister in the Holocaust, yet here he highlights the importance of remembering and yet, somehow, moving forward.

“If you hate someone, the one you hate isn’t hurt, he doesn’t know about it, he doesn’t care. But when you hate it hurts you. And if you hate, you cannot judge things correctly; try not to hate. Don’t forget, you cannot forget, but don’t hate.”

I have no idea

“So what are you going to do next?”

This was the question I was asked repeatedly throughout my two week visit to England from Cambodia last month.

My answer? “I have no idea”.

I like having no idea. I like the freedom afforded to me by not having plans. I can do anything. I can be anything. I can go anywhere. I am open to every possibility that comes my way. Nothing inhibits my future because I have no obligations, no responsibilities, no expectations, no anticipations. I’m lucky, I guess, that I am in this position. Young, adventurous, ambitious, curious … selfish. From the reactions of people who asked me about my future plans, I could tell many of them were disconcerted by the uncertain, undirected future ahead of me. Maybe they can’t live like I do, maybe they need to have a certain, directed future.

Maybe we all have certain, directed futures and we just don’t know what they are yet …

Whilst at home, I found myself rummaging through a dusty, disorganised antiques shop in Ashburton with my mum and sister. We found some old accounting books which had been used as scrapbooks by their original owner. The chronology extended, inconsistently, from 1907 to 1923. We thumbed through several and decided to buy the one which covered 1919 for my Grandad, as it acted as a timeline for the year he was born. A particular article, printed on 29th June, piqued my interest and gave brief details of several treaties being signed in France. For those of you who have some knowledge of World War One, this date should be significant. This was the day that, amongst others, the Treaty of Versailles was signed. Whilst historians’ opinions differ, most agree that the harsh terms stipulated in these treaties and imposed upon the losing side, predominantly Germany, after World War One was a principal reason the Nazi Party, with Hitler at the helm, was able to achieve such popular support within Germany over the following two decades. This rise to power, admittedly coupled with infinite other factors, led to World War Two.

My Grandad was born on 1st July 1919, two days after the Treaty of Versailles was signed. Twenty years later, he found himself fighting in the war, along with his two brothers, Douglas and Roy. Douglas joined the RAF, Roy enlisted into the navy, and my Grandad entered the infantry. Whilst my Grandad and Roy returned home safely, Douglas’ plane was shot down and he became a Japanese prisoner of war. From the moment my Grandad was born, was he destined to enter the armed forces? Was his younger brother Roy, not even a thought in my Great-grandparents minds, inevitably going to find himself on a naval ship? Was Douglas, barely two years old when the Treaty was signed, steadily moving towards his fate in a fighter jet?

I’m not quite sure what I believe in terms of religion. But I do believe that as individuals we are largely insignificant in the grand scheme of things, whether that scheme be influenced by man, the planet, or some larger force we are unaware of. We may have an impact on those with whom we come into contact, but I think each and every one of us is simply a speck on the space and time continuum. So what power do we have to determine our own lives? Was there anything my Grandad, or Roy, or Douglas, or any of the other tens of millions of civilians enlisted into the armed services across the world, could do to change their fate?

If the answer to the questions posed above is no, then why plan? Our future is already pre-determined. And I know this blog post has drawn negative examples from war (force of habit when you’ve study genocide), but I believe that most people are heading towards wonderful, happy, fulfilling futures. But do we have any influence as to what that life looks like? How we get there? Who comes along for the ride? Honestly, I have no idea.

And I like that.