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Our journey into Phnom Penh was one of the best thanks to my research and subsequent discovery of the luxury bus company that actually was luxury, had leg room, was spotlessly clean and had wifi, we didn't want to get off! Planning a stop here of just a couple of nights, we checked into our rather bleak hostel, headed out for some supper and braced ourselves for what was going to be a fascinating but super depressing day ahead.
Having arranged to be picked up by a tuk tuk driver the next morning, we were soon on our way to The Killing Fields, every bit as grim as it sounds. Having got to Phnom Penh late the night before, we were keen to see the city in daylight from the comforts of our tuk tuk. It soon became clear however, that this city didn't really have much to offer in terms of culture, beauty or sights as we drove from one huge dusty road to the next through hundreds and hundreds of tuk tuks and motorbikes. Halfway to our destination our driver stopped at a roadside stall to buy me and BG some face masks which at first we mocked, but gradually the dust in the air made it almost impossible to see or breathe and we were soon glad to have them.
Forty minutes through the dust and we had arrived and gingerly climbed down from the tuk tuk both quite nervous about what lay ahead. Every bit as grim as it sounds, The Killing Fields are the places where the Khmer Rouge, under the leadership of Pol Pot, executed and buried over two million 'undesirables' in an attempt to cleanse Cambodia and instil self sufficiency through agricultural reform. Amoung those targeted were all intellectuals (including anyone who wore glasses - BG would have been screwed), professionals, Christians, Monks and anyone thought to have links to the former or a foreign government. Many children and babies were also executed under the slogan 'to keep you is no benefit, to destroy you is no loss' in an attempt to stop the next generation avenging their parents deaths. In total, over a quarter of the entire population was wiped out during the four year rule between 1975 and 1979.
We were given audio guides (a first for Asia) which were brilliant at conveying the history of the regime and explaining the different sites around the fields. Probably the most shocking thing we learnt (apart from the fact that they've built a school right next to the killing fields which can be seen from the playground - slightly inappropriate) was that the Khmer Rouge maintained their UN seat until 1993 with full support from western governments and that Pol Pot died in 1998 having never faced trial for the atrocities he commited - both of which are so hard to comprehend.
Walking around the fields was a really eerie experience. As the prisoners had to dig their own graves and were weak from malnourishment, the graves themselves were often very shallow. The result of this is that bones are constantly rising to the surface and can be seen in all the grave plots protruding through the earth which was really hard to look at. Our final stop was the centre piece of the fields, the Memorial Tower filled with the skulls of those who lost their lives at the fields. Although it certainly creates impact, I'm not sure it's the most fitting or respectful way to commemorate or lay to rest those who lost their lives here.
After a quick ice-cream to cheer us up, we then headed to the equally cheery S-21 prison, the school converted to torture chamber where over 20,000 prisoners made their 'confession' before being taken to the killing fields. Discovered by the invading Vietnamese in 1979, an army photographer recorded what he saw, the results of which are hauntingly displayed on the prison walls and the prison remains exactly as it was found on that day.
As prisoners were required to be photographed and provide detailed descriptions of their upbringing and 'crimes', room after room is filled with haunting images and documentation, torture equipment and detailed descriptions of the prison regime. Only seven people are known to have survived S-21 and they provide the most accurate accounts of what happened there. Although completely traumatising, the museum is so badly in need of good curation and better translations that it didn't have quite the impact it should have. This combined with the Pchun Ben Day festivities (a religious festival blessing the souls of relatives who have passed away) taking place in the prison grounds (it was seriously like a brightly coloured wedding where they were dancing on the graves with food, drink, singing galore), made the visit slightly strange.
On our journey back we couldn't help but notice the lack of older people around which really drove home everything we'd seen that day. Glad the day was over and looking forward to leaving Phnom Penh, we booked our bus ticket to leave for the beach the following day. Unfortunately, fate had other plans and halfway through the night I woke up with the worst stomach pain I'd ever had. I'd managed to get a hideous stomach bug and poor BG spent the next three days holed up in our bleak hostel room moping my brow as I ran between the loo and the bed. Having heard horror stories about medical facilities in Cambodia (the guidebooks suggest taking a plane to Bangkok!) we sought medical advise from home (thanks Roo!) and BG was dispatched at dawn in a tuk tuk to get the antibiotics I needed (thank heavens the idea of a prescription is unheard of here!). Once drugged up, I soon started to feel better and BG made a second attempt at booking our bus tickets to the beach. After three extra days in Phnom Penh against his will trying to channel Florence (Nightingale) I got the impression that I was gonna be on that bus come hell or highwater, even if BG had to put me in Pampers himself to get me there and tried to be as stoic as possible as I was bundled into a tuktuk and taken to the bus station...
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Mother Sounds like a grim place and I think I'll give it a no no