Day 288 - S-21 and the Killing Fields

So, I've said this before, but I didn't really have any background knowledge of SE Asia before I came here. As we arrive in a country, most of us backpackers read the lonely planet's 3-page history of a country and then spout about it like we studied it at university. We then go to the museums, maybe read the books the kids sell on the streets, sometimes talk to locals, so that by the time we leave a country, we maybe know a 5-page account of the history.

Unfortunately, when it comes to SE Asia, I'm one of these rubbish travellers. Except for one important thing - I didn't bother to read up before we arrived. So we're here in Cambodia. We arrived last night and we want to do the classic city tour today in a tuk-tuk. Of course, I know Cambodia's had a hard time. And I'm not stupid when I jovially ask a tuk-tuk driver how much to take us to the "killing fields" on the outskirts of town. Its $5, and we hop in.

Today turned out to be one of the grimmest days of my travels so far. It was affecting. and poignant. I'm embarrassed that I'm 27 years old and have never bothered to ask about these things. And I was completely unprepared for what I was going to see and spent the next few hours running the details through my head. This stuff is heavy.

Ok, so on with the day. We hop into the tuk-tuk - probably the most run-down rusty piece of shit I've ever seen. But Sam, Eve and myself are so excited to be out on the road doing stuff that we're giggling and laughing and pointing at other better-looking tuk-tuks as we drive the 30minutes to the outskirts of Phnom Penh - through the bustling market place, down paved streets, onto gravel, onto dirt and finally onto dust. We're offered the chance to shoot some machine guns for $30 (it seems there's an excess of ammunition which needs to be used up) but we all refuse (some more than others, Eve...).



And minutes later we're heading into Choeung Ek - site of a buddhist memorial to the victims of the Khmer Rouge's genocide. We're still happy and laughing at this point as we pass a man with no legs, some other dude with crutches and a hoard of children begging. We've read the lonely planet spiel on this place (about 30 words). we know what to expect. But the words "hundreds of skulls" never means much until you see it right before you.



But when you DO see it, its pretty haunting. The memorial is packed with shelves upon shelves of skulls found in the surrounding fields. They've all been ordered by age and sex, with tiny little skulls in one place belonging to under 5-year-olds. They're all damaged skulls - some damaged by time but loads by sledgehammer wounds across the skulls. We're blasted into silence as we wander around the tiny room stacked 30ft high with skulls.



And if that wasn't bad enough, the lowest shelf is covered in hundreds of items of clothing, all recovered from the mass graves, cleaned up and left there. Its grim. The sun is shining and its a beautiful day, but something about this place is seriously creepy.



I didn't know this - but the Khmer Rouge is responsible for killing more people than Hitler was. That's nuts. That's so nuts guys. Hitler did SO MUCH DAMAGE. That's confirmed. And here comes a statistic I had no idea about. I was standing in the memorial to 1.5million (although estimates range right up to 3million) Cambodian victims. That's almost a quater of the country's population! This stuff is heavy.

Right, without referring to ANYTHING the lonely planet says, here's what I've learnt about Cambodia after being here for a week. Apologies if you know this already. Occupied by france until the 1950s, Cambodia gained its independance and for 20 years managed to maintain a policy of independance. That was, however, until King Sihanouk was overthrown in a military coup by communist rebels, under the name of the Khmer Rouge. These dudes were on a serious mission - they wanted an extreme form of communism in cambodia. They wanted a classless society, where everyone was involved in agricultural labour. To do this involved moving EVERYBODY out of the cities, confiscating all their private property and relocating them to the countryside into forced labour camps.

But the Khmer Rouge had another agenda. In order to carry out these plans, the new government needed to isolate the country from any foreign influence, abolishing all forms of capitalism (banking, finance, currency) and closing schools, hospitals and factories. Whilst evacuating the populations from the cities was easy (citing the threat of american bombings), the true threat laid in the capabilities of the intellectuals.

It was believed that certain members of the cambodian people were enemies of the khmer rouge. These mainly formed anyone with any governmental ties, or foreign ties; religious cambodians, ethnic foreigners, and almost anybody with any form of education, therefore giving them power to lead a revolt against the khmer rouge. Even weak city dwellers, who didn't know how to farm the land properly, were believed to be enemies because they were not (i.e. COULD not) working hard enough. On top of this, despite the insanity of its logic, they believed people who wore glasses must be enemies, because they must read more than others. Anybody who fell into any of these categories were singled out to be killed. The rest were taken to labour camps and worked (or starved) to death.

Anyway, its not something I would want to encourage, certainly not, but I can understand the logic of removing the intellectual element of the population when attempting to completely revolutionise a country into arable farmers. I can understand it. But to torture and murder them is something completely different.



Ok, so we're still at the site of the murders, the memorial to the dead, but before we go on, we shoud talk about the torturing of the people who were ultimately killed here. Its not my favourite subject, but an apt one. So, jumping ahead about 2 hours, we arrive (on the same shitty tuk-tuk) at our second tourist location of the day in the depths of Phnom Penh's complex road-network (made even more complex by its street numbering system) outside an old disused school. When the Khmer Rouge made it into the capital, they chucked all the kiddies out, and turned this place into a torture prison for its political enemies. The same glasses-wearing, religious intellectuals who probably never did anything wrong, and were probably as caught up in the revolution as everyone else.





Every floor of the school has been turned into prison cells - barbed wire lined balconies, makeshift cells 2ft wide, barred windows locking in torture beds. This place is so grim and heavy you can hear the screams of terror coming out of the walls. The school was dubbed S-21 (Security Prison 21) but is now called the more friendly Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. First stop - 10 cells the size of classrooms with a lone bed in the centre. Attached to to the ends of the bed are manacles for locking the arms and legs of victims in place, and tools for breaking toes, removing fingers, and opening bowels. The cells were used as interogation site for getting political information out of its prisoners. Amazingly some of the highest ranking Khmer Rouge members were brought here on charges of treason, probably ordered by Pol Pot (the creepy looking khmer rouge leader) in a bid to prevent anyone forming a coup against his power.





Next up is a building full of cells where the prisoners were kept. Now, get this for irony. The mens cells were 2ft by 4ft cells made of brick with an open doorway. The women, however, got wooden cells with a closable door - to afford them the luxury of some privacy when they had to wash themselves. mental. However the irony ends there. All this is backdropped with balconies lined with barbwire - not to keep the prisoners inside - but to stop them from committing suicide.



And then came the photographs. I apologise in advance if you find some of this stuff hard to stomach. I know I did. On floor of one of the buildings is dedicated to the display of the photographs of the victims of this place. Rows upon rows - hundreds upon hudreds - of photographs of the cambodian people brought here, tortured, interrogated, and finally murdered. Its believed only 7 people (7 PEOPLE!) out of the 17,000 imprisoned here ever made it out alive. Everyone was photographed and their details meticulously recorded. They were then shackled to the walls of their cells, or shackled to a long iron bar, along with 10 other people, and all forced to sleep on the floor, packed into a classroom with 40 other people. Stripped of their clothes and possessions. They were then subjected to all forms of torture - most notably electric shocking, branding with hot irons and hanging the prisoners for just long enough for them to survive. Many died from the abuse. Many caught skin diseases from lying on the floor for days.





The photographs were shocking. Asian people have a habit of laughing to hide their nervousness - in loads of the photos, taken as they are bought into the compound to face days of torture, these cambodians are smiling. Many look composed. Many look relaxed. Very few show any fear. There are photos of every age, from children just old enough to walk up to great-grand-mothers. Some of the guys have been beaten. One woman is breast-feeding her baby. From the other exhibits at the museum, its shown that anything that enters the prison would later be murdered, regardless of age.



This place is grim. Sam, Eve and I came away silenced and thirsty. Now, jump back 2 hours to the buddhist memorial with all the skulls, and this is where the prisoners of S21 were taken after they had confessed, been totured and were found to be no use to the khmer rouge anymore. It was here they were led to be murdered. Not with guns and bullets - that was too expensive. They were packed into vans, driven to this site along the same road that we had just gone down in a tuk-tuk, then queued up before an executioner to be murdered. usually with axes, hammers, spades or sharpened bamboo sticks. One sign reads that executioners were expected to murder 300 people a day, but were unable to keep up the pace, so were murdered themselves. A total of 8,895 bodies have been found here, although its expected there are more bodies to be found when further excavation commences, not planned for 30-years to give the area a rest period.



Forced to dig their own grave pits, most are shallow because the prisoners were already weak and sick from the interogations. As we wander the pathways between the open pit graves you can see pieces of clothes poking out of the ground. Its so grim. We're here, at the equivalent of a german concentration camp, having laughed our way here just minutes ago and now we are silenced.





Today has been SO hard going. I had no idea, and for that i'm ashamed. And as we leave S21 to catch our tuk-tuk, I buy a can of sprite, start glugging it down. And as we climb in to ride back to the hostel, I'm confronted by a burns victim (landmine?)- head to toe burns. barely walking. no face. I'm unashamedly glugging on my Sprite as he's asking for some small change and all I can do is say no. Eve and Sam feel guilty - I shrug it off as if its nothing. But it was something.

urgh. today was so heavy. It was ended with a quiet meal and a couple of beers before a sleepless night in my uncomfortable bed, accompanied by sitting up til 5am watching tv because I couldn't sleep (I think it was the sprite, not the content of the day, that kept me up). Its so hard to know how to comment on witnessing the effects of genocide. Chances are, anyone over 30 in the city now would have worked in those labour camps. They might have lost their parents, or brothers. They might have killed people themselves. And all this happened by cambodia's OWN PEOPLE. How rank is that. Its not even an outside force having a go at them. Its their own children rising up against them. I dunno. Two weeks on, I still don't know. I'm shocked that just 30 years ago, this stuff was going on. I'm shocked that we can bomb iraq for suspected WMDs, but we didn't get involved when these cambodian people needed us. I'm shocked that I never knew ANY of this stuff.

Anyway, good on the cambodians. because today, my 40-something tuk-tuk driver drove us to the site of so many murders and tortures for just $5, and never once judged our naivety. And he did the lot with a smile (except when he tried to rip us off at the end - the bastard). Perhaps the scars of 30 years ago have healed somewhat, I don't know. But from the hoards of smiling cambodians lining the streets and buses of tourist-friendly Phnom Penh, they seem to be getting on with their lives. Which is the best I think anyone can expect from them.