The Killing Fields

Visiting Cambodia is a bit surreal. The Cambodians in the capital city of Phnom Penh and touristy city of Siem Reap seem cheerful - they smile, approach foreigners and speak English better than a lot of Europeans.

This might seem so because 40% of the population is under age 18, and they weren't alive for it. Just thirty years ago between 1975-1979, 2 million Cambodians were killed by the brutal Khmer Rouge regime.

During the Vietnam War, many Vietnamese fled to northern Cambodia. The United States began secretly dropping 110 thousand tons of bombs on Cambodia over several years in efforts to wipe out communist bases (This number was not known until Bill Clinton declassified it in 2000, and is more than what was dropped by the Allies in all of WWII). The secret bombing failed and only pushed North Vietnamese further into Cambodia. Today you can see survivors scooting around with missing limbs.

The war and unrest in the country led to the rise of one of the world's worst regimes - the Khmer Rouge. Cambodians fearful of the B-52 bombers joined the rebel group led by Pol Pot, and they took prisoner anyone thought of as aiding the North or South Vietnamese. Prisoners were held, not allowed to speak or do anything, tortured, and eventually moved to fields where they were executed and put in mass graves.

I visited two places to learn more about the genocide - the S-21 Prison (Tuol Sleng Museum) and the Choeung Ek Killing Fields.

I hired a tuk-tuk driver to take me to the sites for the day, and he shared his personal story with me: Both his parents, his brother, and his uncle were killed by the Khmer Rouge. This is a common story for many Cambodians alive during the seventies.

The S-21 Prison used to be a high school, then was covered with barbed wire and converted to a prison, and now it is a museum - made to remember the genocide. The tiny prison cells built of brick remain in the old classrooms. Several rooms show photos of thousands of the victims, many of whom were children.

The Killing Fields were obviously stomach-churning. They were green fields full of deep holes. Most human remains have been disinterred though they still find the occasional bit of clothing or teeth. In the center stands a tall memorial, which is full up to the ceiling with shelves full of human skulls.

"The New Regime"
Poem by Sarith Pou
No religious rituals.
No religious symbols.
No fortune tellers.
No traditional healers.
No paying respect to the elders.
No social status. No titles.

No education. No training.
No school. No learning.
No books. No library.
No science. No technology.
No pens. No paper.

No currency. No bartering.
No buying. No selling.
No begging. No giving.
No purses. No wallets.

No human rights. No liberty.
No courts. No judges.
No laws. No attorneys.

No communications.
No public transportation.
No private transportation.
No travelling. No mailing.
No inviting. No visiting.
No faxes. No telephones.

No social gatherings.
No chitchatting.
No jokes. No laughter.
No music. No dancing.

No romance. No flirting.
No fornication. No dating.
No wet dreaming.
No masturbating.
No naked sleepers.
No bathers.
No nakedness in showers.
No love songs. No love letters.
No affection.

No marrying. No divorcing.
No martial conflicts. No fighting.
No profanity. No cursing.

No shoes. No sandals.
No toothbrushes. No razors.
No combs. No mirrors.
No lotion. No make up.
No long hair. No braids.
No jewelry.
No soap. No detergent. No shampoo.
No knitting. No embroidering.
No colored clothes, except black.
No styles. No palm sap hooch.
No lighters. No cigarettes.
No morning coffee. No afternoon tea.
No snacks. No desserts.
No breakfast [sometimes no dinner]

No mercy. No forgiveness.
No regret. No remorse.
No second chances. No excuses.
No complaints. No grievances.
No help. No favors.
No eyeglasses. No dental treatment.
No vaccines. No medicines.
No hospitals. No doctors.
No disabilities. No social diseases.
No tuberculosis. No leprosy.

No kites. No marbles. No rubber bands.
No cookies. No popsicle. No candy.
No playing. No toys.
No lullabies.
No rest. No vacation.
No holidays. No weekends.
No games. No sport.
No staying up late.
No newspapers.

No radio. No TV.
No drawing. No painting.
No pets. No pictures.
No electricity. No lamp oil.
No clocks. No watches.

No hope. No life.
A third of the people didn't survive.
The regime died.