Phnom Penh, Cambodia - The Killing Fields

Many years ago, I watched a documentary on the Khmer Rouge and the madman Pol Pot, focusing on the Killing Fields and the S21 Prison. The Killing Fields of Choeung Ek is the site of brutal executions and mass graves for more than 17,000 men, women and children. These victims had previously been detained and tortured in S21 Prison, then brought by the truckloads to Choeung Ek to face a certain death (or rather, their deaths were certain the minute they were arrested).

I was intrigued, and told myself that these would definitely be a must-see if I ever found myself in Phnom Penh. Fast forward years later and there I was planning for the trip to Phnom Penh...but now with a 4 year-old towing along. Taking a child of that age to scenes of genocide and torture sound like an invitation to the social services. I scoured the net looking for other parents' experience. There were not many. But the question came up often enough: Should you take your children to visit the Killing Fields? The S21 Prison? Will they be traumatized by the experience?

At the end of the day, I think that it's a personal choice. We chose to take our 4-year old son along because he follows us on all our travels and I could not imagine leaving him with an unknown babysitter in a foreign country. And because we want him to travel to learn. The world after all is one big classroom and on that day in December 2013, Phnom Penh offered a history lesson and also one in gratitude and empathy. Before we went, I told him of how once there was a very bad man named Pol Pot who went on to kill many people and we were going to go to see the place where the skeletons were and to learn of what really happened. I also told him that the men are now being punished (technically not completely true, I know) and the world will not let it happen again (ok, he did not have to know about Rwanda etc yet). That was of course a very simplified version of what happened but I guessed that was enough as an introduction. 

More importantly than that, I kept on reminding him that he must be on his best behaviour and he could only talk in whispers. We brought him to Anne Frank's Museum in Amsterdam when he was 2, the age when there's no such thing as reasoning, and the memory of that is one that I choose not to relive.

And so at 8 am on that day, we got to the hotel reception and requested for a tuk-tuk. I had initially planned to take a taxi as I did not want to expose Snufkin to the dusty roads. But unfortunately we left the taxi booking till late and there were only tuk-tuks available. How bad could it be, I thought. Our tuk-tuk rides the day before was not too bad at all, pollution-wise. But still just to be on the safe side, we requested Kosal our tuk-tuk driver to stop at a pharmacy and get some face masks. That turned out to be the best decision we would ever make on the whole Cambodia trip.

To say that the roads were dusty would be an understatement. At times, it felt like we were driving through a sandstorm and it got worse the further we were from Phnom Penh. For a big part of the the journey the roads were not tarred - just dirt and gravel - so all the tyres from the various types of vehicles sent the dirt and dust whirling and swirling around. To make matters worse, the roads were riddled with potholes: some so big it looked like a bomb dropped and formed a crater. Half-way through the journey, Snufkin laid his head on my lap and fell asleep. I was not sure if it was from queasiness or he was just lulled by the movements.

After 40 minutes of a roller-coaster bumpy ride, we reached Choeung Ek Genocidal Centre.

Entrance to the Killing Fields at Choeung Ek

We joined a very short queue outside the small office to the right of the entrance to buy our tickets. With the admission price, we were given a leaflet/map of the place as well as an audio equipment with earphones. With the audio guide providing clear description of each marked area, I don't think a guide is essential.

We listened to the stories of the victims who were mostly immediately executed once they reached the site. They were led blindfolded to the edge of a massive pit, pushed to their knees and eliminated by a swift blow of machetes, hatchets, axes or whatever that was handy. Bullets were precious resources so no one was shot. Today, the mass graves dotted the fields, some fenced in and roofed and some left to the elements. This is one of "166 victims without heads":


Mass grave of headless victims

We saw depressions on the grassy ground, and it was hard to think that these too were where the dead were buried. Apparently in rainy seasons the rain brought up fragments of bones and rags to the surface, making them visible to the public.  It was not the rainy season at that time but as I scanned the grounds, I could see glimpses of bones, somewhat at one with the greens of the grasses.  

There were also glass cases where they kept some of the rags of clothings unearthed from the grounds.This is one of probably only a couple of pictures we took of Snufkin at the site. I did not think it was very  appropriate to treat the site as a tourist attraction and have our pictures taken at every other corner:

Rags of victims' clothings unearthed from the pits

I stood before this glass case for a quite a long time, looking at a pair of faded purple shorts here and a tattered t-shirt there, trying to imagine what went through the wearer's minds before the fatal blows that ended their lives.

Colourful bracelets were tied to the bamboo fences or simply thrown on the grounds by visitors in memory of the tragedy that had happened here:

In memory of the victims of the genocide

One of the most horrifying things that we saw was the "Killing Tree". This was where babies and children were killed by getting their heads bashed against the trunk of this very same tree. Later in the museum on site, I saw an illustration of how this was done and I could not imagine how a human being would be capable of doing such heinous act:

Probably the most haunted tree in the world

The other thing that left the most impact in me is the "Magic Tree". Quite why it was named as such escaped me. What I know is that the tree was used to hang a loudspeaker, which blared revolutionary Khmer songs. The music, combined with the whirring of the generators, meant to drown the scream and moan of the victims on the verge of death. I listened to the recreated version of it on the audio guide and I can tell you that it was the most haunting thing I have ever heard in my life. It rang in my ears for days on end and I could almost taste the terror on my lips.

The magic tree that was not so magical

At the end of the audio guide's narration, we were briefed on the memorial stupa that housed the skulls of those who had been killed at Cheoung Ek in layers upon layers of glass cases.

Skulls in a stupa

From the start to the end of the visitors' path, Snufkin followed us and I tried to explain what we were seeing in the most general terms, skipping the grisly details of course. But when we came to the stupa, I did not feel comfortable to take him to such close contact to the remains of human beings. Both of us took turns going around the stupa, to watch over him play with his sticker book on the bench in front of the stupa.

The verdict on taking a child to the Killing Fields? From that perspective, I would say that it was not too bad - the meadow-like set-up with leafy trees, fluttering butterflies and tranquil surrounding probably made he think that he was having a walk in the park. Despite the skulls and the graves that he saw and the condensed version of the story that he heard from us, at 4 years of age, he was too young to fully comprehend the magnitude of the horror. But S21 Prison, that is another story... 

Note:

Choeung Ek is located approximately 17km outside Phnom Penh and all tuk-tuk//taxi drivers should be able to take you there. Ours cost USD15 for half a day, enough time to take us to both Choeung Ek and S-21 Prison inclusive of waiting times. Admission: USD6 including audio guide. Opening hours; 9.00 - 5.3-pm.

  

Phnom Penh, Cambodia - An evening in Phnom Penh

I had planned for a visit to the Royal Palace and the Silver Pagoda on our first day in Phnom Penh but the opening hours were rather limited (7.30 to 11am and 2 to 5pm).  After our visit to the National Museum, we ended up recharging our batteries in the hotel room longer than expected and by the time the tuk-tuk dropped us in the vicinity of the palace, it was close to 5pm. And even then, we were not sure where the main entrance was. The royal residence of the King of Cambodia was in a huge compound completely surrounded by high mustard-coloured walls. The gates that we saw was closed and the royal guards manning the guard posts did not look like they wouldn't mind being treated like a tourist information centre.

Chan Chhya Pavillion

So I conceded to the fact that we would not be able to see the Royal Palace. It was a good thing that the Moonlight Pavillion or Chan Chhaya Pavillion was very visible from outside.  This was an open-air pavillion serving as stage for Khmer classical dance in the past and present. Its gilded tiered roofs glinted beneath the evening sun, the opulence of it offered us glimpses of what we have missed within the royal compound.

Outside the Royal Palace

The traffic-free boulevard along the palace walls facing the river was very lively. Snufkin kept himself busy blowing bubbles that we bought for USD1 from one of the hawkers, chasing pigeons and posing as a guard in one of the guard posts. We strolled along the palace walls, guided by the map to our next destination: Street 240. This was apparently the place to go to shop for souvenirs, trinkets and quirky products. I expected a wide boulevard, flanked by large stores with throngs of tourists. But this was Phnom Penh, and what I actually saw of Street 240 was much better than what I envisaged. 

Street 240 is narrow and leafy, the shops lining it were mostly small and cosy. We saw other tourists of course, but none of the dreaded tour groups. Unfortunately, it was getting dark and based on what I had read about Phnom Penh at night , we did not want to be out and about with a 4-year old child on dimly-lit streets.

In fact, what I had read about Phnom Penh (only after booking the flight tickets) in the days before the trip made me feel increasingly paranoid and anxious. Stories of being kidnapped by the man that was your tuk-tuk driver, being a victim of snatch and grab thefts while you're walking or even while you're sitting in a tuk-tuk, violent crimes towards tourists and even murders - did I make the right decision? In the end, I decided that we only had to abide to a few rules while in Phnom Penh: No daypack (I only carried minimal amount of cash and our passports in a money belt and my LP in my hand). Stick to the tourist trail. No going out at night.

So that was why we rushed through Street 240. We did stop at The Shop (I could not resist), a quaint bakery-cum-cafe-cum chocolate shop - for our coffee and smoothie fix and also to take-away some food for dinner (vegetarian quiche, buns and pastries).

The Shop @ Street 240

Last mission of the day was to buy some books at Monument Books & Toys. On the map, it looked easy enough to get to from The Shop but in reality it involved some serious skills in road crossing and motorcycle avoidance. We got to the intersection between Street 240 and Norodom Boulevard to discover in dismay that the bookstore was located across the multi-lane road and the said road was practically heaving with traffic. No traffic light. No zebra crossing. There was no way we could cross this, I thought. But we did. I carried Snufkin and we crossed lane by lane, using our hands to stop the traffic whenever required. It turned out that this was the only way you could cross the roads in Phnom Penh.

Inside the bookstore, it was an oasis of calm and serenity compared to the madness outside. Bought several books including Loung Ung's First They Killed My Father and a children's book on the Cambodian genocide. Then we hopped into a waiting tuk-tuk in front of the book store which took us straight to the hotel.