Day 2 (Sunday)

The next morning’s sun rose on stucco roofs near me and tin roofs in the distance—indeed, the slums are not far from me, at least not geographically. But in terms of social reality they may as well be in another city. Starting with the slate-floored three bedroom apartment I share with two others, replete with 15 foot ceilings and a giant chandelier (holdover style of French colonialism). It’s actually not especially nice by American standards—a smelly toilet-turned-laundry room and incredibly cramped kitchen are not selling points—the $200/mo rent I pay for a private, AC’d room is unfathomable to the majority of Cambodia’s population, who live on $1/day. My tourist-y wanderings of that day would reveal city defined in whole by haves and have-nots. (Hint: Tourists, foreign aid workers, and government officials make up the bulk of the haves.)

Since the other team members had left at 4 a.m. that morning to go to an ECCC forum in another province, I took a tuk-tuk to the to the riverfront without much of a plan. A tuk-tuk is an open-air cabin attached to a motor bike, that, as Angel said, remind her a bit of Disneyland. The riverfront is the heart of the “haves:” as one nears the Mekong river, the number of 5 star hotels, spas, and ritzy restaurants grows at a dizzying rate. My apartment is just outside this bubble.

When I got to the riverfront, I pulled out my map and asked the driver to take me to Wat (Temple) Phnom instead. The Cambodian temples are beautiful in a different way than Seoul’s palace. Both involve bright colors and incredible detail; but Phnom Penh seems more interested in steep, angled roofs and statues resembling lions. There were also real elephants imported to wander near the entrance. (New city slogan? Phnom Penh: not particularly worried about your safety.)


There I met a German woman traveling solo and I accompanied her to the Tuol Sleng Museum. The museum is housed in the same building where Khmer Rouge tortured “confessions” from S-21 inmates from 1975-1979, after having converted it from a school. It looks as if you only wiped the rust off and shooed away the tourists, the detention center could still be in use. It is disturbing in a way words cannot convey, but imaginations can.
I will write a post later detailing the rise and fall of the Khmer Rouge, the hybrid Extraordinary Chambers of the Courts of Cambodia (ECCC) trying the leaders three decades later, and how my project fits in. For now, I think the imagery of preserved cells, torture devices, skulls, and photographs of emaciated prisoners give a good idea of the absolute horror that the Cambodian people endured during those four years, when over 20% of the country perished.

Over a silent cup of coffee and smoothie, Katherine and I slowly moved out of our paralyzing depression. By then the team that had traveled to Pursat had returned, and I went to meet them at a restaurant, which Kris (the director) and the map assured me was not more than a 2 minute tuk-tuk ride away. Fifteen minutes later I arrived sweating, frustrated, and newly cognizant that if you can’t direct the driver to your destination, or at least a nearby well-known monument, odds are you won’t get there any time soon. Or at all.

Later that night, I passed up a beautiful tomato salad for fear of stomach explosions. Fresh vegetables, I will miss you.