I realize that these aren’t exactly “feel good” blogs, but God has been stretching the boundaries of my heart through these experiences, and I ask you to continue to walk with me in this Journey. (And I will mingle in some fun posts as well!) And thanks to Michelle and Kim for letting me use your pictures.
History in the Making III: Seven Miles
Seven miles. Seven miles is close enough. As I am typing this [in Phenom Phen], I am seven miles away from the one of the most notorious brothels in Cambodia, known for holding trafficked minors against their wills to be sodomized, raped, and molested by sex tourists. “Too close for comfort” has taken on an entirely new meaning.
I also happen to be reading
Terrified No More
, which retells the dramatic and heroic missions of the IJM. Much of the book focuses on IJM’s research, raids, and rescues of children here in Cambodia. Seven miles away.
The stories I am reading affirm my fear: facing realities
do
keep me up at night. The reality of human trafficking has penetrated the depths of my heart. Children and young women are sold by their family, deceived into believing legitimate jobs await them across the border, or actually kidnapped. They are brought into another country, where they know no one and are disoriented by unfamiliar surroundings and languages. They are then held hostage in brothels to be offered to sex tourists against their wills. Smiling and giggling on the outside to avoid the beatings that come with customer complaints. Children as young as five years old. Living in hell on earth. Seven miles away.
The horror of human trafficking has not been the only tragedy invading my life. If seven miles wasn’t close enough, then walking through the remnants of a genocide certainly would be.
To be honest, before we came here, I didn’t know about the Cambodian genocide that occurred just thirty years ago. Here is a brief history:
In the 1960’s, the American war with Vietnam began to escalate. At the same time, the Cambodian communist movement began to grow under the leadership of Pol Pot. The Vietnamese communist troops began to travel through Cambodia to get deeper into South Vietnam. Then, America began secretly bombing Cambodia. These bombings killed more Cambodian farmers than Vietnamese troops. For fear that the Cambodian king would become a North Vietnam ally, the American government helped
General Lon Nol overthrow the king and take over the Cambodian government in 1970.
At this point, open civil war began between Lon Nol’s government and Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge (communist rebellion). The Khmer
Rouge gained popularity by default, as many people were unhappy with the American bombings and the newly established
government. America provided supplies, weapons, and money to support the Lon Nol government, but stopped providing aid after
pulling out of the war in Vietnam. Shortly after, in April of 1975, the Khmer Rouge took the capital of Phnom Penh and forced
everyone out of all of the cities in Cambodia in one day. In an attempt to establish an agrarian communist society faster than
anyone had in world history, Pol Pot immediately forced everyone into rice farming communes in the countryside.
The rule Khmer Rouge ushered in the most devastating era in the history of Cambodia. Immediately, the Khmer Rouge began
killing anyone associated with the previous government or its military. They also killed educated people, teachers, and doctors because they thought they had been corrupted by Western thinking. They also killed religious people such as Buddhist monks and over ninety percent of the Christians. Those working on the farms worked 14-16 hours a day and ate as little as one cup of rice each day. As a result, starvation and disease began to grow.
In December 1978, in an attempt to regain territory and return Cambodia to its former glory, the Khmer Rouge invaded Vietnam. The Vietnamese counter-invaded and had taken control by January 1979. By the end of the Khmer Rouge rule, as many as two
million people were killed: approximately one-third of the population.
I experienced the remains of this recent genocide firsthand as we visited the S21 prison nearn Phenom Pehn. The S21 prison was once a high school, and was transformed by the Khmer Rouge into a dark place of captivitiy. Specifically, it was known for its reputation for torture. As we walked through the hallways, we passed rooms with bed springs, chains, and torture devises. There were pictures on the wall of how these rooms were used to torture prisoners. We would pass paintings of horrifically creative torture tactics. In front of the paintings would be the actual devise. A bucket with shackles to hold the person’s head under water. Right there. I remember thinking,
their hands were shackled right here
. I pass a sign that reads
when getting lashes or electrification you must not cry at all.
I pass a display of various torture devices.
We walked into a room with a board full of pictures. I studied the faces. Some looked terrified. Some looked confused. All looked hopeless. Why were they there? For being educated. For being teachers and doctors. Or maybe just randomly chosen. To my horror, I found that the room was full of picture boards. And then there was another room… and another. So many faces. So many penetrating eyes, just like the pictures of the holocaust survivors in the history books.
My knees buckled when I turned the corner to find a photo board of children. Kids. Beaten. Tortured. Killed. An entire board of children’s faces. Of the 20,000 prisoners held captive and tortured as S21, seven survived.
I wish I could tell you that was all. We also walked through the genocidal memorial of the Killing Fields (one location of many). I was naseuated as I walked the paths between the pits where all the bodies were discarded. According to an informative video, the victims were brought to the pits and forced to kneel down by the edge. They were beaten before their throats were slit and they fell into the pits. I understand Gary Haghen’s phrase,
slipping in the mud of the mass grave
. On the ground I found decaying cloth. Their clothes. At one point on the path, right in front of my eyes, was a pile of decaying bones and teeth. There was a showcase of skulls. I was stuck in this place of inner limbo. I couldn’t believe it, but I couldn’t deny it.
This reality is undeniable. Now unavoidable. Michelle
may put it best:
It was all overwhelming to take in.
It was hard to understand how we can as human beings continue to do such appalling things.
And that we sit thousands of miles distanced from it and don’t even know that it is occurring.
And that we don’t intervene when we
DO
know it’s happening.
It
all gets really messy, I understand … but 2 million people in the span
of 4 years is a high price to pay for our ignorance, blind eye and
politically “neutral” stance…
There
is a reason that my life has come in contact with all of this … and
there are reasons that I have the ability to pass on what I have seen
to
YOU…
It begins with being informed and letting issues affect us.
It begins when hearts are invested.
It begins when we REALLY start becoming the hands and feet of God in a world that so desperately needs His touch.
It begins when we
can’t help but do anything else.
Because we can no longer turn our eyes.
And we can’t forget what we’ve seen.
