“…writ in water”

Yesterday I was in a restaurant having lunch with my godmother and a few of her friends.  The restaurant was quite nice.  It had large luxurious seats, beautiful lighting and there was an abundance of food and well-dressed people at the table.  They were talking about their investments, new properties and recent vacations.  When the conversation arrived at the subject of vacations my godmother pointed out to her friends that I had recently come back from Cambodia.  I was then asked a difficult question- “Did you have fun?”

It was a polite and well-meant question but it was a hard one to answer.  Why was it hard to answer? 

I have to admit that before I went to Cambodia I did not know much about the country.  I only had knowledge of the briefest pieces of information gleaned from various textbooks and history lectures.  The main reason why I chose to visit Cambodia was to see Angkor Wat. 

Angkor Wat and the other surrounding temples are breath-taking.  There are no words that I can use that would sufficiently describe the magnificence of these structures.  Each of the huge stone slabs that are used to build the incredibly large temples were dragged to the site from mountain miles upon miles away.    These are then slowly piled one on top of another without any mortar or other substance to keep the stones together.  800+ years later, the temples still stand due to the precision the people used back then to cut the stones to lay flat against each other.  After the structures are built, the carvings begin.  All the walls, towers, arches, door frames- every part of the temple is then subjected to the skill of stone cutters and artists to intricately weave and carve the stories of old Hindu and Buddhist mythology and deities onto the stone slabs. I’ve posted some pictures in my photo album but like my descriptions, even the pictures do not do the great temples justice. 

The feeling I had standing in front of Angkor Wat was one of awe.  I could barely take it all in.  However, there was also something else that I could hardly reconcile in my mind as I stood in front of the temple.  Angkor Wat is a remnant of Cambodia’s past.  A past that was great and rich.  It is hard to reconcile that greatness and that wealth of the past to the poverty that is manifested in the image of Cambodia today. 

Most (around 98%) of the houses in Cambodia that I saw (“I saw” being key- as I do not want to mis-represent) are small little huts on stilts.  These types of houses are the houses of local Cambodians who live in the country.  If a family is rich (a relative term of course,) they will have a battery for electricity at night which they can bring somewhere during the day to be recharged.  There is no clean, safe running water and there is no hygienic sewage system that I have seen for 98% of the houses.   The other 2% of the housing that I have seen is what there is in the city.  I have only been in Phnom Penh and Siem Reap.  Housing in the city usually consists of tiny apartments for rent or huge hotels for tourists.  Even then with a sufficient sewage system, there is still no clean water.  All drinking water must be bought in bottles.  If you do not have the money for clean drinking water, then you must take your chances with any other water sources that are available.

Water is important for all living creatures.  Having grown up in North America I have never had to worry about not having enough water.  Our tour took us to Tong Le Sap Lake.  There is a village that lives on the lake- schools on the lake, hospitals on the lake, churches on the lake, houses on the lake… etc.  The people fish for food in the lake, drink the water in the lake, wash with the water in the lake, throw their garbage and waste into the lake.  On my boat ride I passed by so many dead fish floating on the surface of the lake.  And I wonder.  I wonder if there is any way to clean the lake.  I wonder how much it would take for the government to be able to build a sewage system for this village.  I wonder if any international humanitarian organizations are aware.  I wonder if anyone even cares.  I wonder what if I had been born here. 

During this trip I also visited the Royal Palace.  You have to pay a fee for admissions and a fee to take photos.  I did not take any pictures.  The palace is huge.  The palace is what any fairytale palace should be.  The royal treasury had floors made of polished silver and was adorned with solid gold buddhas, jade buddhas, diamond-encrusted buddhas.  There were contribution boxes all over the palace buildings and courtyards.  And I wonder again.  I wonder if the king has ever stepped out of his palace.  I wonder if the king has seen the poverty in his country.  I wonder if the king realizes all the wealth in his palace that is just sitting there could help his people.  I wonder if the king even feels responsible for the welfare of his people.  I wonder if there should even be a king at this point. 

Our next stop after the palace is a new casino that was opened in Phnom Penh by some Malaysian investors.  Our local guide told us kindly that he would wait for us on the first floor of the casino.  A member of our tour asked why he would not go upstairs with us.  Our guide simply replied that local Cambodian people are generally not allowed to go in.  My friend and I went back to the tour bus.  Again I am at a loss for words to describe how I feel.  How can you open a casino in the capital city of a country and then not allow the local inhabitants to go in?  How disgustingly discriminating and racist.  I can not bring myself to go into any establishment that tolerates this type of treatment of human beings.  Later on as the other members of the tour group came back I was told that local Cambodians are allowed to go in.  They just have to wear a suit and pay a USD10.00 admissions fee.  As if this were a band-aid that made it all OK.  Foreigners can go in wearing t-shirts and shorts for free.  My original sentiments remain unaltered. 

On my last day in Cambodia, I was taken to a Memorial Site.  This site is called S-21 short for Security Office No.21.  At this point, the Khmer Rouge was only a term that I had studied in a history class.  The atrocities committed by the Khmer Rouge were just numbers and words in a textbook.  While learning about the Khmer Rouge in class I did feel enraged and disturbed by the genocide that resulted under its regime.  1.7 million Cambodians died.  But being at S-21, a school that the Khmer Rouge had transformed into a concentration camp, prison and extermination site for 20,000 people, I was again lost for words to describe my emotions.   The photographs, the instruments of torture, the clothing the prisoners shed before being executed and 8000 real human skulls were still at the site.  I was in the very compound where 20,000 innocent men, women and children were murdered.  Think Holocaust.  Think Rwanda.  Think 1.7 million human beings. 

On my plane ride back I wondered at how much of my life I have taken for granted.  Like my friend on the trip repeatedly reminded me, we didn’t choose to be born where we were born.  These people did not choose to be where they are.  What can we do to help our fellow human beings around the world who really are less fortunate?

So did I have fun?  The question isn’t even relevant. 

(In my photo album you will not find any pictures of the royal palace, the casino nor the concentration camp because I did not take any- the reasons are my own.)

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