The Killing Fields

During my semester abroad in Rwanda and Uganda, I studied conflict and genocide—how a country collapses into violence, how an individual can murder a neighbor with a machete, how a people move forward, how reconciliation begins, and how justice must be made. And after numerous trips to both Western and African memorials, I came to accept and understand my reactions to the pictures of children and broken skulls. Yet I am still surprised at how easily I can walk on dirt littered with bone shards, sit underneath a tree that the Khmer Rouge threw babies against, and side-step pieces of decaying clothes. I can so quickly emotionally detach myself from the horror of genocide, and I haven’t yet decided if that is a great strength or a great weakness.

My SIT program focused a lot on establishing a collective memory and how that memory shapes the political, social, and economic transformation of a country post-genocide; in short, does it bring the people closer towards reconciliation and lasting peace or back towards violence?  A subtopic within this conversation centers on how a nation memorializes the atrocity.  In the West, museums (think the Holocaust Memorial in Washington D.C.) are often incredibly factual, filled with videos, details, photographs, and artifacts. They strive to paint a clear picture of how something like the Holocaust happened, and they try to get visitors to grasp the scale of the genocide. But they are careful not to be too gruesome. Yet in Rwanda and Cambodia, many of the memorials are simply rooms with bodies preserved in lime, bones, and skulls. These sites force people to confront the atrocity—to stand in the same place as the victims and to see the physical evidence of their machete-beaten bodies.

Both have their strengths and weaknesses. I think that Western memorials allow us to put up a screen between our lives and the lives of the victims. We cannot see their bodies. We are not walking on the ground they walked on. We are not confined in the rooms that they were confined to. And we do not directly speak or interact with the survivors. But this attachment allows us to get a well-rounded understanding of the genocide and that might help us see warning signs in the future.  African and Asian memorials force us to confront the brutality and horrific nature of genocide. They force us to see the body of one individual so that the statistic of a million may sink in. At the same time, I think that seeing a body or a skull is so traumatizing that many of us simply shut down immediately, preventing us from making that connection that is so essential.

I often wonder why I shut down. Does it mean that I can’t fully comprehend the enormity of each single life lost? Can I not move beyond the statistic? And if I can’t when I’m literally standing on a path of shattered bones, then how can I expect anyone else to. Because achieving that—mourning the individual rather than looking only at the statistic—really is the best way to prevent dehumanization and genocide. 

Shards of bone and a tooth. Every so often, the groundskeepers must walk the paths to collect bones that surface. They say that the dead are still not at peace yet. 

This is the tree I mentioned earlier--the one that the Khmer Rouge threw babies against.

Remnants of the victims' clothing.

Photographs of the victims at the Tuol Sleng, which was named S-21. Here, the Khmer Rouge systematically documented the lives of their victims before torturing them and forcing them to sign confessions before taking them to the killing fields.

The cells that victims were forced to live in for months during their torture sentences. 

A quick side note before ending, I'm sure that many people believe that it is impolite to take photographs of a site where such atrocities were committed. They think it is rude and disrespectful. But I would counter that I know in my heart of hearts why I take these pictures, and I believe that showing them to others who cannot come and visit is really an extension of these memorials' missions--never again.

Angkor Wat and Rural Cambodia

Walking across the Cambodian border, I first thought, well, I’m back in the developing world, and two hours in a shared taxi later only confirmed my initial feelings—trash everywhere, miles of land set aside for agriculture, and every so often the occasional small town of buildings constructed of sheet metal and crumbling concrete.

Siem Reap, however, is such a tourist hub that is seems to break the mold. Here, there were a number of fancy hotels, western-style restaurants, smoothly paved clean roads, and wireless internet everywhere. Our guesthouse, in particular, was run by a couple of ex-pats, and it felt just as nice if not nicer than places I have paid 20 dollars for, not 4. It just goes to show how much tourism can really change the trajectory of a town; Angkor Wat, a temple complex just outside of Siem Reap, has at times been and may still be the largest tourist destination in southeast Asia. And while, these sites will always been around to generate money, it doesn’t seem like any of this capital will extend outwards into other parts of Cambodia. 

These two photos are from Angkor Wat. It was built in the 12th century first as a Hindu Temple, but later converted to a Buddhist temple. Really interesting tidbit of history that I think speaks to Cambodia's relationship with India: the myth of how the country was created basically centers on an Indian prince marrying a Cambodian princess, and her father drinking up all the water over Cambodia to give the Indian prince a dowry. 

I took these at the Temple Bayon, where there are literally 40 engraved faces of Buddha. 

These are from what I like to call the Jungle Temple, and I even asked a fellow traveler if he knew where the "jungle one was." Really, though, it's called Ta Prohm, and it seemed to be even more popular than Angkor Wat. I wish that we had done this first, because we decided to bike from our hotel to the temples and, once inside the complex, we took the long route. In total, I think we did about 15+ miles and, so by Ta Prohm, I was sweating buckets/ready for a cold shower.

Anyways. After two days and three nights in Siem Reap, Katie and I took a bus to Phnom Penh, where we will stay for another three days before leaving to Ho Chi Minh City. The ride totaled about six hours and, while listening to some jams, I got to really observe the rural countryside. In comparison to Rwanda and Uganda, there are a lot more towns, which are closer together and, although the houses seem just as dilapidated, they are bigger and look more solid. Trash, though, is everywhere, and the worst is that much of it is so close to water. But I won’t get started on my water tangent now.

One thing I did notice is that the only nice buildings in these townships are temples. Now, maybe these buildings reflect a united effort of each community to build something lasting a beautiful, and to have ownership over something, what’s the word, nice. I completely understand that. But another part of me wondered if having such an ornate place to meditate or focus on religion somewhat contradicts the principles of Buddhism. Now, I’m no expert. This is all just thinking aloud. But doesn’t a big tenet of Buddhism focus on letting go of both material and emotional attachments as a way of reaching enlightenment. Why, then, would it be important to have such a beautiful temple with such (expensive?) detail when it seemed that some members of the community were begging? Just something to think on.

Final Thoughts on Thailand

Upon leaving Thailand, I tried to think about the lasting impressions that the country had had on me. It goes without saying that Thailand is one of the most naturally beautiful places in the world—lush jungles, endless green rice patties, limestone rock faces, turquoise waters, white sandy beaches, and palm trees as far as the eye can see. And while I cannot wait to go back, I don’t really have much to say about Thailand in the same way I did about India. Maybe it’s that I’m not as familiar with the country’s political history, that I wasn’t there long enough to get a full picture of development and inequality, or that I just really didn’t fall in love with the people in the same way that I did in Rwanda. For me, putting aside the beaches and waterfalls, Thailand is nothing really to write home about. And in all honesty, I think it’s a good thing, as I tend to be more interested in a country’s challenges rather than its successes. Right now, for instance, I am LOVING reading all about Cambodia’s history to get a better understanding of why the violence happened before spending a day visiting the killing fields.

On a more personal level, I think I was a bit too distracted by things going on back home to really be present in Thailand. As frustrated as I am with myself and that situation, I just have to recognize that that is just a part of traveling, because as much as we might try to get away, we really are almost always going to be connected to and emotionally involved in what goes on back home. And I feel like having to move beyond everything that is happening two oceans away is a challenge in and off itself that has really taught me a lot about myself. If I’m being absolutely honest with myself, I’m still pretty much at an all time low and struggling to come to terms with how lost I feel, but I think the fact that I have been able to do that in a foreign country is a good thing. I haven’t yet gotten on a plane home to fix everything.  

Leaving the Island and Making Peace with Opposites

After a number of days that neither me nor Katie can remember, we decided to postpone our ferry ride on our last night in Koh Phi Phi Don. And if you ask any ex-pat that’s how it all starts. Countless people we spoke with said that they came for two days and stayed for two years.

I would say that living on the island was very similar to going to school at Hamilton. Both are very small communities that are somewhat isolated from the outside world, complete with a unique set of social norms and cultures unto their own. Everyone seems to know everyone. There are local hangouts where you just know to go on a certain day, and beaches far from the main isthmus that are highly coveted quite places away from the strip of bars and sunburnt tourists.  In short, staying on Koh Phi Phi and getting to know some of the ex-pats there made me feel like I was entering a bubble. The only difference between the island and Hamilton is that people stay at school for four years (or five for the super seniors) but, there, everyone seems to come and go.

While I definitely see the appeal to just canceling my plane ticket home, getting a bartending job, and spending endless days letting my skin freckle, I don’t think that this island is the place for me. It’s comforting, and it appeals to the inner hermit in me that wants to put down my roots every time I stay in a place for longer than a week, but by the end I started to feel a bit claustrophobic—similar to how I feel in Tennessee sometimes and even Hamilton. Because the other part of me is too curious to stay in one isolated place for too long. There are cultures to study, political systems to learn about, conspiracies theories to flush out, countries to monitor, and issues to raise.

And most importantly, part of this traveling experience is supposed to teach me how to keep moving forward, to push through changes and accept them, and to become more comfortable with my fear of the unknown and the things that are out of my control. NOT to drop my bags, rent a bungalow, and stay in one place to avoid change. Because most days if you asked me if I could be traveling around Asia or at home with a job, friends, routine, and a settled life, I would almost always pick the latter.

Pretty much my whole life, I’ve felt like a person comprised of opposites—incredibly curious and interested in the world but afraid of travel, someone who moves around a lot but would almost always prefer to stay put, willing to jump off of a cliff but afraid of fish, someone who seeks balance but who has a bit of an all or nothing personality, someone who desperately wants independence but who really depends a little too much on everyone else, shy and loud, someone who enjoys bucket showers but goes crazy without internet and, finally, a Libra Dragon for those of you who know anything about astrology.

I need to learn how to accept all of those parts of myself, but I also need to understand that sometimes doing what a part of me wants means triggering feelings of anxiety or discomfort. One day I will have a settled life, and I won’t feel homesick or anxious about change. But I also know that that time will only come after having the experiences that I am having now and growing in a way that will help me make peace with all of my opposites.

Listening to the Silent D and Cruising in Thailand

Yesterday I had one of the best days I've had since beginning this trip. Nat, Katie, and I decided to spend 60 dollars to go on a 7 hour sailing trip that included cliff jumping, trips to Monkey Beach and Maya Beach (where the movie The Beach was filmed with Leonardo Dicaprio), snorkeling, caving, and exploring the different islands are Koh Phi Phi Don. I don't think I've ever put money to better use. 

This is the main bay of the island.

Feeding the monkeys who can get really aggressive about their food.

Hamilton College Women's Rugby Football Club does Thailand.

Seriously, this place is GORGEOUS.

Just going caving. Once the Thai mafia controlled these caves, because the nests of the birds that live here are mashed up into this drink that is sold for like 100 dollars as an aphrodisiac. Now the government watches these places. 

Walking in the footsteps of Leo on Maya Beach.

Cave paintings that are at least 800 years old.

Finishing off the day with a beautiful sunset. LOVE IT!

Indian Ocean? Check.

Guess who checked the third ocean off her list of oceans to swim in?? This guy did. And while I will always be partial to the Atlantic, particularly the big cold waves off of Nantucket, I love the Indian Ocean! Ko Phi Phi Don, a small island 42 kilometers off of Krabi on the mainland, is absolutely breathtaking. Today we took a ferry over and explored the main isthmus of the island but, because it's so overcrowded, we're going to trek north to find some quieter places with bigger waves. 

No joke. Today I kept asking myself, is this real life??? is this gonna be forever?? More pictures and adventures to come when we switch hotels and hopefully have internet? 

Bangkok, The Venice of Asia?

Bangkok is a city that feels both incredibly familiar and unfamiliar. Wealthier districts have McDonalds, shopping malls, movie theaters, advertisements for American products, clean streets, and massive sky scrapers. Yet other areas, like the one where we stayed, seem completely separate from this westernization apart from the 7-11s on every corner, of course. Here, development seems a lot more evenly spread across the country than in India. Even the rural parts, which I saw from my train window, seem further along that places like Varanasi. So I would say that Thailand, especially Bangkok, seems to better fit the newly industrializing category that I had in my mind before coming to Asia. And the two countries definitely seem incredibly distinct from one another with far more differences than similarities. I'll be interested to see how Cambodia compares to what I've seen thus far.

Politically, Thailand is also an incredibly interesting country. It was never colonized by a European power; although, I do think that the British were somewhat involved here. Today, Thailand's government is a constitutional monarchy whereby the head of state is the king and the head of government is the prime minister. It's difficult to walk more than 20 feet without seeing a large picture or painting of the king; they are all over Bangkok. And while the country seems stable and this structure seems to work, Thailand has changed their constitution many times, and just a couple of years ago a military junta took over the country. It seems that democracy still has a long way to go here, but I feel like I need to do some more research/nerd out to really get a sense of what's going on.

Anyways, Katie and I spent our second day on the river, exploring the Grand Palace, Wat Phra Kaew, and Wat Arun. Here, there are all sorts of canals and waterways throughout the city, which is why some people call in the Venice of Asia.

These are some views from our river boat trip that Khoar and I took on a little boat that is essentially a taxi--very cool. I absolutely love being on the water in the same way that people like to hike or climb mountains or whatever. And so, while I could have been happy as a clam riding the boat up and down the river all day, Katie wanted to see some temples and the palace so we got off at pier number star?? All the others were numbered except for this stop. 

The Grand Palace and Wat Phra Kaew were so incredibly beautiful! Just the detailing on all the walls and the ceilings were so unreal. I can't even really begin to explain it, but walking along these huge buildings painting with gold and tiled with mirrors made me feel like I was in a movie. Cliche, I know. 

These last two photos are from Wat Arun, which is also known as the Temple of Dawn. You can climb up the temple, and the steps are INCREDIBLY steep. I almost fell quite a few times, but there is a beautiful view of the city from the top.

Later that night, Katie and I went out with some new friends to dinner with the owner of our guesthouse, which was great. Her name is Joy, and she's been pretty instrumental is showing us what living is like for the majority of Thai people in Bangkok, taking us to food markets and ordering us local dishes. And instead of taking it easy the night before our journey southwards, we went out to see what the nightlife is like in the city. I tried some rice wine, which I probably will never drink again, and the local beer, which was pretty good. 

That's all for now. Had a stressful day of getting scammed. No fun. As soon as I left India, I let my guard down. But tomorrow it's off to Ko Phi Phi and the beach!!!