For me growing up, freedom meant hot dogs, red-white-and-blue paraphernalia, time spent at the lake with family and friends. It meant I got to help my uncle pick out tons of fireworks that my cousins, siblings and I would later shoot off the dock (and sometimes accidentally at each other).
Freedom was just a word that meant, “I’m free to have fun!”
As I grew older, I understood the true meaning of freedom… but still, I didn’t think much of it.
Freedom was something that was part of my lifestyle. Something that I took for granted.
Going to school and getting an education – a right of freedom but did I appreciate this as a kid? No. It was a standard to me.
Choosing an occupation and being able to live out that occupation if I so choose – freedom!
Being able to decide which religion I would practice – incredible freedom!
Even… wearing contacts or glasses if I needed to because they would enhance my eyesight making life a little easier for me – a freedom that was available, though I never had to use it.
America… I’m talking to you here. I’m an American. I grew up in this glorious country. I have traveled it from the east to the west, and again west to the east. I believe America is gorgeous and beautiful, I believe we offer some GREAT things for people… but lately, I haven’t been too impressed with America and I have vocalized that. To be blunt, I wasn’t very proud to be American or claim us as my “home”.
I couldn’t wait to leave on the Race… to travel the world and see what other countries had to offer. I knew that there had to be something better out there than this demoralized, ugly, sinful society my beautiful America had turned out to be.
So, I left…
(not only for the reason of leaving America, but hey… that was a perk at the time!)
…and MAN, did my perspective change!
At first, I was comparing America to the other countries I was in and thinking, “America would be so much classier if we only would adopt this practice.” Or “I wish this was a tradition we had in America!” I kept weighing the odds and America came out on bottom… until I hit Cambodia.
Cambodia?
I knew nothing of the country. I knew it was in Asia… I knew that it had some of the most gorgeous beaches on the planet… I knew the women dressed modestly (long skirts / pants passed the knees and shoulders covered)… I knew some of the positive things about Cambodia… but there was still so much I had yet to learn in my time there.
I didn’t know how much Cambodia had suffered.
I didn’t know how much HURT there still is in Cambodia because of its suffering.
I didn’t know that at one point, Cambodia wasn’t “free” and it and its people were still living in that shadow.
Cambodia was free. It became an independent country in 1953 and acted as a constitutional monarchy until “Year Zero” came in 1975.
(if you’d like to do more research on the years of 1975-1979, feel free… it’s very interesting! But, I’ll summarize it for you a little here below):
Year Zero became known as the beginning of the Khmer Rouge. This was part of an attempt by communists to impose a revolution on the country. They tried to abolish its religion; eradicate its culture; totally remodel its economy; communize all social interaction; control all speech, writing, laughing, and loving; exterminate anyone with any ties to Western nations, Vietnam, Laos, and Thailand; and eliminate all who had any connections to the previous government or military.
They tried to take away all freedom.
And they did… for 4 years.
1975-1979 were hard years for the Cambodians… and over a quarter (2,000,000) of Cambodians were murdered because of the desire to take away this “freedom” they had known for so long.
People were murdered for their occupation.
People were murdered for their level of education.
People were murdered for their religion.
People were even murdered for … wearing glasses (and looking smart).
There are two places that I was able to tour in Phnom Penh, Cambodia that taught me all about this horrific event in Cambodian history. The Killing Fields… and S21.
The Killing Fields are what they claim to be in the name… large fields where Cambodians were taken to be killed. Shot. Throats slit. Worked to death. Heads slammed against tree trunks. Then, piled into graves 400+ bodies high, covered in chemical solutions to take away the gory smell, and then covered up to be forgotten.
S21 was where I felt the punch. Where my heart literally broke… where tears welled up on the edges of my eyes at the cruelty that humanity could possess!
S21 was a high school.
A HIGH SCHOOL.
High schools are meant for laughter… for silly jokes with friends… for learning… for friendships to be made… for dreams to be dreamt!
A high school is not a building made for imprisonment… for torture… for lies… for beatings… for death.
This high school, however, was made into such after the city of Phnom Penh was abandoned and taken over by the Khmer Rouge communists.
Walking the halls of this school – still laden with barbed wire, still stained on the floor with the blood of the helpless Cambodians being held there, still smelling of the old wood and metal brought in to make tiny jail cells used to incarcerate innocent citizens for…. For what? Being free?
I, at one point, was even too afraid to walk into one of the rooms of cells by myself. I had to run and grab one of my teammates, Emily, to walk in there with me.
It was dark. It was heavy. It was devastating.
I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves —
S21
(high school turned torture / murder facility)
There were four of these buildings on the campus – Buildings A and B were torture buildings… Buildings C and D were cells and various office rooms
Hallways complete with barbed wire over every door and every window
The room I was too afraid to enter alone
(blood stained tile… and the human waste box / pee jug in the cells… I learned on my tour that if the prisoners didn’t get everything perfectly into the box or the jug, they were forced to lick it up off of the floor)
(holes were knocked out of the walls all the way through the buildings so guards could sit on either end and be able to see all rooms at once)
The standard torture room… metal bed (easy for electrifying), a waste bucket, and an ankle shackle. Each room now is complete with a large photo on the wall of the body that was found upon liberation. All dead. All mangled. 
The Killing Fields
Bones and clothing remnants still surface where undiscovered graves stand today
In 1979 Cambodia was “freed” from this horrific time in their country. The Vietnamese stepped in and helped their neighboring country get back its “freedom”. The People’s Republic of Kampuchea was established and many elements of life before the Khmer Rouge take-over were re-established in this year.
… or so history says.
I witnessed a country that, yes, seems to be “back on its feet” after taking such a hard hit not that many years ago.
However, I also witnessed a people that is mostly agrarian now… because they’re afraid of being too “smart” in their occupations.
I witnessed adults that do not know how to read or write and children who only go to school two or three hours a day because of their fear of education or being classified as “too educated” even to this day.
I witnessed a society where not many people wear glasses… because they make you look “smart” (and that’s a fear… STILL!)
I witnessed a country that has “freedom”… but are they really free?
They’re still burdened by their history. They’re still being held back by this horrific time in their past.
When will they really ever become “free” again?
My squad mentor, Beka Hardy, wrote today a brief explanation of the way she sees our country now that she’s been out of it for so long in places much like Cambodia. Her words rang so true to my ears… for they are exactly what I have been experiencing and realizing these last six months:
“The more that I have seen, the more I have come to an appreciation of this nation that we live in. Through my travels, I have seen such beauty, but I have also seen such pain. I have seen what a country stricken with AIDS looks like. I have seen nations still recovering from genocides. I have seen the heartbreak of a country known for its “sex tourism”, which we know as human trafficking. I have seen countries where women have no voice and can’t get an education or occupation. I have seen poverty that I never knew existed. So why do I love the 4th of July? Because it stands for the freedom that we have. Freedom that so many, my friends, can only dream of. I am so thankful for this country and I’m so glad that we get an entire day to remember and to celebrate.”
Another squad mentor, Daniel Williams, wrote:
“I’ve been very blessed to see a lot of this world and it has made me appreciate America…and at times be frustrated with America. We have beautiful freedom and opportunities; it’s what we do with it that will define our legacies.”
So, Happy 4th of July, America. Happy Independence Day.
Don’t take for granted the freedom that we have in this WONDERFUL country… but don’t abuse it either.
Go and use your freedoms wisely and be a legacy this country would be proud to claim!
Be fearless. Be free.
(2 Corinthians 3:17)
Further notice: if you’d like to know more about my tours to these places… I have PLENTY more pictures and information I’d love to share… I just didn’t want to overload one blog with everything!
