4.16.11
I have been wanting to write this blog for several days and now I feel like I have the words.
Our plans were to go out to the countryside and celebrate the Khmer New Year there since that is what everyone does, including the boys we’re working with which would mean we wouldn’t be able to work with them. However we figured with the holiday and all the travel to get out there we would only have a couple days of ministry. Plus we’ve fallen in love with these boys and can’t say goodbye just yet.
We were able to work things out and stay in Phnom Penh for the rest of our stay. It worked out because Ingrid has a lot of administrative work we can help with.
We were able to work things out and stay in Phnom Penh for the rest of our stay. It worked out because Ingrid has a lot of administrative work we can help with.
However with the administrative work, Ingrid has given us off days and said we can’t leave Cambodia without seeing the Killing Fields.
Cambodian history has never been a strong interest of mine, but after arriving here I was shocked by how little I learned about Cambodia in school. As recently as the 1970’s Cambodia suffered a terrible genocide under Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge. From what I understand they were a communist regime who believed that a utopia could be created if everyone were self-sustaining farmers. In an attempt to achieve this, the Khmer Rouge exterminated those who were educated: doctors, nurses, professors, etc.
Cambodian history has never been a strong interest of mine, but after arriving here I was shocked by how little I learned about Cambodia in school. As recently as the 1970’s Cambodia suffered a terrible genocide under Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge. From what I understand they were a communist regime who believed that a utopia could be created if everyone were self-sustaining farmers. In an attempt to achieve this, the Khmer Rouge exterminated those who were educated: doctors, nurses, professors, etc.
We went to visit the Toul Sleng Genocide Museum which was originally designed as a high school and was functioning as one until the Khmer Rouge took power. Then the high school turned into a prison camp and the windows and ledges were fenced off to prevent people from committing suicide. There are several buildings on the compound but the whole bottom floor of one had boards and boards covered with pictures of the prisoners who either died there or were transferred to the Killing Fields to be exterminated.
The pictures were harrowing to say the least.
The pictures were harrowing to say the least.
I was walking around with Cara and she pointed out a picture of a man and stated he looked like the most extreme visual representation of fear she has ever seen. I was struck by how angry the little children looked and can’t seem to get their little faces out of my mind’s eye.
When I was nine I visited a concentration camp in Germany and may not have experienced the full impact due to being nine. However, I had a friend commit suicide 3 years ago around this time and I remember shortly before her death she had visited a concentration camp and was still obviously jarred as she shared with me, “You could just feel the death there.” Very true of these places too.
Another thing that struck me was that this occurred from 1971-1975 making the
people a generation, or less, from the boys we’ve come to love.
My dad sent me an email asking if Phnom Penh was rebuilt since he remembers
hearing about it on the news in high school. I don’t know what the city used to
look like but I do know that Cambodia is the poorest Asian country we’ve been
to and it’s not too hard to see that the people are still recovering from the
effects. Ingrid told me that it is also easy to see that the parents of the
boys she works with, who are themselves genocide survivors, have a hard time
loving this new generation from the lack of love, nay from the pure evil they
experienced.
people a generation, or less, from the boys we’ve come to love.
My dad sent me an email asking if Phnom Penh was rebuilt since he remembers
hearing about it on the news in high school. I don’t know what the city used to
look like but I do know that Cambodia is the poorest Asian country we’ve been
to and it’s not too hard to see that the people are still recovering from the
effects. Ingrid told me that it is also easy to see that the parents of the
boys she works with, who are themselves genocide survivors, have a hard time
loving this new generation from the lack of love, nay from the pure evil they
experienced.
The Killing Fields were terribly horrific and I will let those pictures speak
for themselves.
for themselves.
One final thing I want to write about before I conclude this blog. The night we
went to the museum and the fields, we went out to dinner in the touristy part of
town.
I had a lot of thoughts whirling through my mind so I was rather quiet. I
looked kitty corner to us and noticed a young Cambodian woman sitting with an
old white man. I don’t know if she was a sex worker and he, a client (is there
a better word for it? Client almost seems to make it acceptable). However, if
my perception was incorrect it was at least representative of what goes on here
all the time. I wanted to go say something to him. By the time he left I stayed
frozen in my chair, upset that I didn’t approach him, still unsure about what I
would have said.
went to the museum and the fields, we went out to dinner in the touristy part of
town.
I had a lot of thoughts whirling through my mind so I was rather quiet. I
looked kitty corner to us and noticed a young Cambodian woman sitting with an
old white man. I don’t know if she was a sex worker and he, a client (is there
a better word for it? Client almost seems to make it acceptable). However, if
my perception was incorrect it was at least representative of what goes on here
all the time. I wanted to go say something to him. By the time he left I stayed
frozen in my chair, upset that I didn’t approach him, still unsure about what I
would have said.
After those two left, two American women about my age came in bearing their
shoulders (which is disrespectful in this culture) ad their cleavage (which is
disrespectful in a lot of cultures). They sat by me and I was able to hear
their whole conversation complete with more f-bombs than I can count, talking
about how their nachos didn’t have enough cheese, all the awesome parties they
will hit up throughout Asia, and bragging about how they’ve dropped hundreds of
dollars at the bar in the states.
I am not judging these ladies, I was so upset about the conversation because
they WERE me. Three years ago I could be sitting right there with them. If I
looked at their faces I may have seen my own.
shoulders (which is disrespectful in this culture) ad their cleavage (which is
disrespectful in a lot of cultures). They sat by me and I was able to hear
their whole conversation complete with more f-bombs than I can count, talking
about how their nachos didn’t have enough cheese, all the awesome parties they
will hit up throughout Asia, and bragging about how they’ve dropped hundreds of
dollars at the bar in the states.
I am not judging these ladies, I was so upset about the conversation because
they WERE me. Three years ago I could be sitting right there with them. If I
looked at their faces I may have seen my own.
I was so apologetic to the Lord
for how I turned my back on Him, it stuck out from an outside perspective. I
felt sorry for these ladies.
I was overwhelmed with the contrast of what I had been experiencing in this
country (going to the slums and giving children bread and water and watching
them fight over the bread/going with the midwives to see scary small premature
babies not only outside of an incubator but in a nasty hut) and then sitting in
that restaurant – I felt guilt over the food I had just eaten.
for how I turned my back on Him, it stuck out from an outside perspective. I
felt sorry for these ladies.
I was overwhelmed with the contrast of what I had been experiencing in this
country (going to the slums and giving children bread and water and watching
them fight over the bread/going with the midwives to see scary small premature
babies not only outside of an incubator but in a nasty hut) and then sitting in
that restaurant – I felt guilt over the food I had just eaten.
I don’t understand how that old man could come here and use his resources to
take advantage of young women, and children maybe? I don’t understand how young
Americans can come here and either not go to the places if extreme poverty or
turn a blind eye and go back to partying. I don’t understand how I could go
back to my old life after what I’ve seen.
take advantage of young women, and children maybe? I don’t understand how young
Americans can come here and either not go to the places if extreme poverty or
turn a blind eye and go back to partying. I don’t understand how I could go
back to my old life after what I’ve seen.
My heart is officially broken for Cambodia.
