Flushing for Cash - A Quest for Latrines

Today is World Toilet Day. You are probably surprised that such a thing exists. You might have even laughed at the name. We live a life in which the thought of sharing a bathroom is enough of a reason to pass on a gorgeous 3 bed-1 bath apartment in SoHo. Where a dirty rest stop bathroom warrants an hour's worth of complaints and fears of what diseases you contracted. Where your biggest toilet problems are running out of paper or having to use two-ply.

But for a minute, try to imagine what it would be like to live in a one-room, bamboo house with all of your family. You have a well out front that provides water, though you can't drink directly from it. Your father has jerry-rigged a filter that resembles a shower when you pour buckets into it. You do your business off in the bushes away from your home. When you get sick, which is more often than you think should be normal, you have to run out to the nearest tree and sometimes end up soiling yourself.

This scenario is the norm here in rural Cambodia, as it is in much of the developing world.

A typical house in Ampil Commune, with CCDO water well.

Trust me, I've had my fair share of toilet jokes. As a plumber's daughter, I never got the shit kicked out of me, but I did hear about a lot of shit, and cracks for that matter. But I speak with pride about to my father's occupation. He boasts that plumbers were really at the forefront of public health. In many ways, he's right. I've always been a Daddy's girl, so I'm following in his footsteps. By building toilets. By trying to make a small improvement in health in a country where diarrheal disease is still the #1 killer of children under 5. This is 2013, folks. That's not only completely incomprehensible in the developed world, it's totally unacceptable.

My organization, the CCDO, works in a commune of 10,000 people. When we asked families what they needed the most, the unanimous response was latrines. Thus, following our successful waterwell project, we now want to build latrines.

The project goes like this...

• Each latrine costs $250 and includes all that is necessary for a successful, long-term project.
• The latrine is made from high quality underground IDE tanks with 4 concrete rings atop each other, a ceramic Asian style bowl and an outhouse structure made of bamboo and palm fronds.
• We also provide educational hygiene workshops for each of the families receiving a latrine, in which we discuss handwashing, toothbrushing and general cleanliness. We provide soap and tippy taps for handwashing.
• We have included in the cost provisions for repairs and pumping the tanks when they have filled up.
• Each family will be asked to contribute $25, half up front and and half after the latrine is built to add personal ownership. They will help build the outhouse as part of our partnership with the community.
• We work with the Commune Chief to determine which families are in the most need. 

What I'm doing...

As In-Country Director, I manage all of our programs. But this one has special meaning and is something I believe to be massively important. Thus I want to do more than provide my time. My contribution to kickstart this new project is to fundraise $5,000. As an organization, our initial goal is to build 100 latrines in 2014, costing a total of $25,000. If I can personally raise enough funds for a fifth of our goal, I can ensure that the project gets off to a strong start.

What you can do...

• Donate a latrine: $250 will provide the latrine and all the fixin's. This includes a signboard next to the outhouse with your name. We'll send along a photo of the family and their details so you know exactly who you helped.

• Donate toward a latrine: If you can't donate a whole latrine, any amount you can contribute will be most appreciated! If you'd like a photo and family information as well, I'm happy to provide that. 

• Spread the word: We need help getting the word out about our campaign. Whether it's social media or talking to a friend, the more who know, the better!!

As our President, Jenni, wrote: "We are launching a new campaign to build latrines in our villages. November 19th is, no kidding, World Toilet Day and we say very impolitely:

IT'S TIME TO START GIVING A SHIT!"

A Bookish Year in Review

I can't say that I've ever been a prolific reader, primarily because I read quite slowly. But when your life no longer consists of unlimited wifi, hundreds of TV channels, or term papers, it's amazing how much time you have to get sucked into a good book, even at my speed. Since moving to Southeast Asia a year ago, I've consumed 24 books, which is more than I have read in the previous 5 years combined.

When I finish a book that's made an impression, I always pass it on to someone I think would similarly appreciate it. As a backpacker, books are currency and I have a hardcopy on hand at all times. But most of you are far away and Cambodia's postal service is not yet in the 20th century, so instead I thought I'd share some of the highlights, in no particular order.

Stiff: The Curious Life of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach

The title may be off-putting, but don't turn your nose up. Roach artfully investigates the many possible outcomes for cadavers: from crash-test dummies and medical school teaching tools to decomposition experiment subjects and organ donors. She explores historical uses (and abuses) of dead bodies as well as modern alternatives to burial or cremation. Equal parts thought-provoking, sentimental and humorous. “The way I see it, being dead is not terribly far off from being on a cruise ship. Most of your time is spent lying on your back. The brain has shut down. The flesh begins to soften. Nothing much new happens, and nothing is expected of you. ”

The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down by Anne Fadiman 

I recommend this book to anyone who works in the medical field, though its an interesting look at the "collision" of cultures for anyone. It tells the true story of a young Hmong girl, Lia, who's family moved to the US before she was born. She has epilepsy, a condition regarded quite differently between the two cultures. Though both her doctors and her family have her best interests in mind, their actions and assumptions cause pain and mistrust of one another and eventually prove harmful to Lia. A unique scenario that digs to the heart of misunderstanding and fear of the unknown, especially in the form of foreign cultures. 

The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett

I found this on my grandmother's kindle, so I didn't have the opportunity to be intimidated by the length. I enjoy period pieces and this one is set in 12th century England. It follows the lives of father and then son in the quest to build a cathedral despite corrupt and malicious clergy and laymen alike. Follett gracefully weaves together the various character story lines. You'll be cheering for the good guys, cursing the evil villains and holding your breath for a happily ever after in this NY Times Best Seller.

A Game of Thrones by George RR Martin

If you haven't jumped on this bandwagon yet, I highly encourage it. Martin doesn't just describe, he creates. The first book begins weaving an intricate story of family, betrayal, love, alliances, monarchies and of course the game of thrones. This is one of those books that no review will ever do justice, so just pick it up already! Plus reading it gives far more background to the HBO series. 

Inferno by Dan Brown

The most recent release on this list, Brown comes back with another thriller center around Robert Langdon. This time Langdon finds himself in Florence on a mission to save the human race from disease through his knowledge of the symbolism in Dante's Divine Comedy. Moving on from religious themes, this novel delves into biological terrorism and population control. An easy and fun read, Brown as usual delivers an unpredictable (though not exactly realistic) page-turner. My biggest criticism is the way in which he portrays Manila as a dangerous hellhole (as I beg to differ!)

Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer 

Recently popularized by the film adaptation, Into the Wild inspects the circumstances leading up to the death of Chris McCandless - a 24-year-old naturalist who died in Alaska in 1992. Krakauer originally wrote an article on the young man in Outside Magazine. Drawn to his tragic yet perplexing story, Krakauer traces McCandless's movements after his college graduation. Through interviews with his family as well as friends met in the two years he spent exploring the US, Krakauer tries to understand the motivation behind McCandless's seemingly impractical and arrogant approach to the Last Frontier. 

Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts

I've been told for years that I needed to read this, but at 900+ pages, I wasn't diving right in. Based on his own life, the story follows Lindsay, a bank robber, after he escapes from prison and flees to Mumbai. Between the expats he meets, his tour guide turned best friend and his father-like mentor, Lindsay discovers a life worth living. Yet he is constantly looking over his shoulder, afraid to get too close. Slum life, opium dens, drug running, Indian mafia, and love interests make this book a page turner. But Roberts' eloquent writing style coupled with his non-cliche insights on the subtleties of life turn a compelling story into a best selling novel, on the top of my list. A must-read, especially for my fellow travelers out there!

The Motorcycle Diaries by Ernesto "Che" Guevara
Long before he led the Communist movement, Ernesto "Che" Guevara traveled South America on a motorcycle with his friend Alberto. This posthumously published memoir of his nine-month journey gives insight into some of the experiences which shaped his political views. Beyond reminding us of that all future leaders are at one time impressionable youths, his eloquent recount exemplifies the idea of life as a journey, with no proper destination. "...I finally felt myself lifted definitively away on the winds of adventure towards worlds I envisaged would be stranger than they were, into situations I imagined would be much more normal than they turned out to be."

 Little Princes by Conor Grennan 

My second favorite book on this list and the one I relate to most closely. At 29-years-old, Grennan decided to leave the US to travel for a year, starting with a two-month volunteer position at an orphanage in Nepal. His connection with the children is so strong, he finds himself compelled to return. Discovering these children are not orphans at all, he embarks on a journey to find their families and bring them back home. His descriptions of even the mundane make you feel as if you're working alongside, his humor keeps it light-hearted and his honesty feels as though he could be a close friend recounting his travels.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot

In 1951, young Henrietta Lacks went to a clinic in Baltimore to be treated for what turned out to be cervical cancer. Unwittingly, a doctor took a sample from her uterus, which after her death became the first immoral cell line, known as HeLa. For years her family had no knowledge of HeLa, received no royalties and meanwhile lived in poverty without even health insurance. Skloot brings to life the woman behind the cells, and the impact this scientific discovery, which led to so many medical advances, had upon the Lacks family. 

My First Coup d'Etat by John Dramani Mahama 

Ghana remains close to my heart, so when my aunt gave me this book written by then Vice President John Mahama (he has since become President), I was pretty excited. He documents the so-called lost years of Africa, beginning from the first coup d'etat in Ghana, which ousted his father, a minister. He describes what it was like growing up in that time - the tension, the frustrations, the daily life, and stark differences within a single country as they fought to develop a national identity. 

What's up next on the list? I'm halfway through Into Thin Air also by Jon Krakauer, which documents his personal account of the well-known Mt. Everest disaster of spring 1996. I've been meaning to read First They Killed My Father, the true story of a young girl during the Khmer Rouge. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance has been sitting on my desk for a while, I need to get back into A Game of Thrones, and with A Casual Vacancy on my iPod I think I have couple of months covered :)

Any other suggestions? My current list has nearly 50 books on it, ranging from classics I never actually read in high school (sorry, Otsuka!) to just published novels. I discovered a list of books to read before their movies come out in the next year so that's a start. But I'm always looking for recommendations! With a hammock on my balcony, this Cambodian lifestyle is pretty conducive to quiet afternoons alone with a book.

A Turn of Events

It's funny how life ends up just working out on its own sometimes. How what seems like a failure one moment can turn into an even greater opportunity, if only you have some patience. I've always believed that things happen for a reason, but Lord knows I'm terribly impatient. In this case, I got lucky.

If you remember back, I met a girl, Anna, in Siem Reap last fall who understood not only my passion for public health, but also my connection with this country. We talked for hours and decided that this region needed more women's health, and we were the ones to do it. We embraced our naivety and "greenness" as strengths to keep us moving on the hard path ahead. Anna returned to the States and I to Manila, though we continued to develop plans for a volunteer-NGO focused on women's health.

In March, Anna decided she couldn't join for six months, so I searched for other organizations doing similar work in the city. Something (anything) to give me some experience before we could start out own project. As I recognized before, there are few health NGOs in the region. An acquaintance from Siem Reap had met a group just that week, CCDO, and they were starting a women's health center. Two weeks later I found myself back in the sweltering Kingdom.

Breakfast program - better wash hands and brush teeth

For the next three months I worked for the organization, though less involved than expected. I was unsure if the country team, whose primary focus was the travel agency, wanted me there. They welcomed me, yet I doubted their understanding of my role and use at the NGO. My first post upon returning here revealed my disappointment in the fate of our own NGO. But more than that, I wanted to put my skills to use, to contribute to CCDO's efforts. Which in turn made me question my own motives for being here, as I felt selfishly underutilized and frustrated. This is not to say I did nothing, I just didn't seem to be adding much value to what was already developed. 

Tippy taps - my favorite 

After several months, it became clear that our two teams - Cambodian and American - could no longer work together harmoniously. In an effort to strengthen our current programs, we made the split. Then we went about re-registering, hiring staff, setting up a new office and restructuring our programs. In ten days. (It's no surprise I contracted Hand, Foot and Mouth disease the following week). 

This turn of events would explain how now, after giving up on any hope of running an NGO in the near future, I find myself as the in-country executive director of the CCDO, 2.0. One of those times when you stop worrying about how you're going to do something, and then it ends up in your lap. Excited, nervous, stressed, energized, exhausted, surprised, confident, overwhelmed - it's been a roller-coaster of emotions. But if I felt like my talents weren't put to use before, I can be certain every iota of my being will be utilized to get this organization not only running, but improved and performing. 

For now, wish me luck! I promise to keep the CCDO posts to a minimum, with a smattering of other topics from my oh-so-exciting life here in Cambodia. And hey - interested in donating a water well? Volunteering? Spreading the word? I could use all the help I can get! (yet another shameless plug)

New responsibilities!

Are so much fun!

The Consequences of Poverty Tourism (and how we're to blame)

A few years back, when I was volunteering in Ghana, one of our projects was supporting a local orphanage. There were thirty-some kids at the time, all between 2 and 19 years and the older children looked after the younger ones, much as you'd expect. The girls cooked the meals, the boys collected water, and all but the youngest kids did their own laundry by hand. The orphanage was clean and provided routine, responsibility, and safety.

And the kids were happy. On weekends I would go out and visit and we'd play makeshift volleyball or watch a movie on a small laptop, thirty kids squished together, eyes glued to the screen. Nearly all spoke very good English, in part due to the Western volunteers who had come through over the years. Deprived of love, the younger ones would come running up to you upon arrival and cling onto you for the duration of your stay. Everyone wanted to be held, to have someone listen to them, to be told they were smart or funny or beautiful. 

After a year of deterioration, last week we received news that the orphanage has ordered all the kids to leave by the end of July. Some have already moved out to live with other family members. We are waiting to hear the full story, and in the meantime the organization is doing its best to track down each child and pay fees to ensure they can sit for their final exams. I'm sure the organization will hold a fundraising event to continue to help out these great kids.

This situation gets me thinking about the recent opposition to supporting international orphanages. Living in Cambodia, you hear about corrupt orphanages where the kids are kidnapped or bought from their families and then subjected to the humiliation of hoards of tourists photographing them in their new home. It has become something of an industry and Cambodia is not the only culprit. The reaction from the media (and the general public) is to condemn all orphanages, causing financial assistance to be dispersed elsewhere. 

My fear is this proclamation of the "evils of orphanages" will have a tremendous impact. Of course I don't condone fraudulent schemes. But there are plenty of actual orphanages out there. Orphanages in developing countries often have little support from their own government where there's only so much money to go around (and corruption on a much larger scale). 

Source: thisisafrica.me

The real problem here stems from the recent popularity of poverty tourism. Our infatuation with slums and orphanages, perhaps partially due to movies like Slumdog Millionaire. By turning homes of the poor into tourist attractions, we allow entrepreneurs to make money off of others' misfortune for the sake of our curiosity. It is no different than San Francisco guides offering tours of homeless shelters in the city; such an idea would cause an uproar, yet somehow it is acceptable when we visit India. We observe the destitute as though they are animals in a zoo, forgetting these are real people trying to survive in a less fortunate world.

I'm not going to say these local businessmen are in the right. But if they didn't see a golden opportunity, they wouldn't have capitalized on it in the first place. No tour guide would dream of showing you the dirtiest part of town. That is until you start asking him to take you there. Even volunteering in orphanages can get tricky, enough so I won't go into it here.

Advocates of poverty tourism say it gives foreigners a dose of reality. That by visiting a slum you may come home a changed person who will take advantage of the opportunities so abundant in your life. That you will understand what poverty truly is. That you will no longer be wasteful or indignant or complain when you run out of hot water in the shower. They say that poverty isn't going away. By making it accessible to the masses, they are bringing the issue to the front where it can no longer be ignored.

Source: NY Times

Perhaps on a very small scale, with groups of individuals who had the power to invest in change, poverty tours could be beneficial. But I'd argue that all travel changes a person, especially when visiting a developing country. You don't need to tour a slum to realize how good you've got it made or visit an orphanage to be thankful for your childhood. Spend a week in Manila and I assure you, you will realize that serious work needs to be done about poverty, no slum tour required.

 There is a huge difference between shedding light on an important global issue and allowing tourists to stomp around intruding on private lives. Perhaps some local guides truly do believe this will help their people. And perhaps some tourists have the best intentions and leave ready to change the world. But how do you remain accountable for all of them? And besides, has anyone ever asked these slum-dwellers if they mind being exploited? The justification sounds like an awfully familiar story of the West knowing what's best for the other half, without actually consulting them. 

Again we come back to the theme of social responsibility. Responsibility on the part of travel guidebooks to provide information about respectful tourism. Responsibility on the part of travel agencies and tour groups to maintain their integrity and denounce those who allow tourists to gawk at the poor for a couple of bucks. 

And responsibility on the part of the traveler to have enough sense to realize that it is voyeuristic and offensive. 

Don't turn your back on one of the most vulnerable groups because you read a few articles about corruption. Do your research. Support organizations doing honest work. Travel responsibly and refuse to participate in this trend. Maybe then these "businessmen" will see the well has run dry. 

Most of all, don't forget that while you may not have to live with the consequences, you may still be part of the problem.

UPDATE (7/28/13): If you are interested in this topic, grab a copy of Little Princes" by Conor Grennan. It's an incredible book and delves far deeper into the issues of orphanages and the selling of one's children for the change at a "better life" than one blog post.

Khmer Cuisine

DISCLAIMER: I may be a decent cook but I don't hold a candle to my Aunt Karen and her crazy life from NYC to Bali. For delicious recipes with snappy commentary check her out at kitcheninsurgency.com (voted one of the best food blogs of 2012!). Shameless plug? You'll thank me later. Moving on...

After eight months in Southeast Asia, I typically follow a one-Asian-meal-per-day rule. There's only so much rice a California native can handle. Plus some of us really do crave salad. And cheese. And chocolate.

But an old friend came to visit, and I have been meaning to try this Khmer cooking class. As much as I've been known to gripe, the food here is actually pretty damn good. Especially after my stint in the Philippines.

So Kelly and I show up at the small restaurant/classroom to see that we are the only students on this dreary Saturday afternoon - excellent. Our instructor, Samann, tell us to pick out whichever starter and main dish we'd like to prepare. I don't even look at the menu. Fresh shrimp spring rolls and chicken amok. Oh, we get to choose a dessert, too? Don't need to ask me twice. Black sticky rice with fresh mango, please and thank you.

Grinding up roots for amok

After visiting the market, we begin our tutorial. Coconut milk, fish oil and chili pepper are mixed with fresh vegetable and meats. Butter is rare, instead they use palm sugar to oil pans and thicken sauces. We chop and mash up roots to add flavor and color. Samann effortlessly demonstrates the proper way to slice and dice the different ingredients. She apparently has no formal training, she learned to cook from her mother. I am thoroughly impressed. We even get a bit crafty, learning how to make banana leaf boxes and plate decorations.

The smell of the amok seasoning is intoxicating and I'm about to start drooling. A stoner could not be more excited about a perfectly rolled joint as we are about these spring rolls. And the mangoes are just so beautifully orange. The gluttony begins.

Spring rolling

An hour later we dragged ourselves out of the school, $13 poorer, several pounds heavier and perhaps a dash more culinarily-inclined. If you haven't tried amok (which I highly doubt you have), it is like a spicy coconut-lemongrass curry. Heavenly. To be fair, it's traditionally prepared with fish, but I prefer the chicken variant.

And with that, I leave you with mouth-watering photos of our creations and the recipes to create your own dishes. Bon appetit (and bonne chance!)

Proof modern-day women can still cook

AMOK CHICKEN (2 servings)

2 pcs ngor leaves or broccoli leaves - cut thin                                      Amok Paste:

3.5 oz oyster mushroom - pick thin                                                      1 lemongrass - cut thin

1/4 onion - diced                                                                                  1 turmerice - cut thin

2 tbsp amok paste                                                                                  2 finger root - cut thin

7 oz chicken - finely sliced                                                                   1 shallot - chopped

3 tbsp swiss chard leave - sliced                                                             2 cloves of garlic - chopped

4 tbsp coconut milk 

1 tsp sugar 

a pinch of salt

1 tsp fish sauce

Pound together the lemon grass, turmerice and finger root with a pestle and mortar. Then add other ingredients for the amok paste until it has the consistency of orange paste.

Heat the coconut milk in a pan and add amok paste, sugar, and fish sauce, frying until just brown. Then add the chicken, mushrooms, onion, ngor leave, 1 ladle of coconut milk, ½ spoon of chicken powder, 1 spoon of fish sauce. Continue to cook at medium heat until chicken is cooked thoroughly. 

Serve hot with steamed white rice. 

FRESH SPRING ROLLS WITH SHRIMP (4 large spring rolls)

2 long bean - cut to length of cucumber  (12 string beans)                   Dressing Sauce:

1 carrot - peel the skin cut thin and long                                               1 shallot - chopped

1 cucumber - peel and cut 6 thin and long slices                                   2 cloves of garlic - chopped

1 oz fresh sweet basil                                                                              1 cilendral root - chopped

handful of bean sprouts                                                                          1/2 sweet chili - chopped

4 pieces of lettuce - cut to length of cucumber                                     1/2 lemon juice

3 oz medium-sized shrimp                                                                     

rice noodles (optional)

1 tbsp of olive oil                                                                                   

2 cloves garlic - chopped                                                                           

1/2 tbsp brown sugar    

1 tbsp oyster oyster sauce                                                                            

1/4 cup water

4 pieces of circular rice paper

Steam cook the long beans and cucumber in boil water 1 minute. Then add the carrot and sprout bean to steam cook for another minute. Let the vegetables cool on a dry plate. 

Heat olive oil, garlic, and brown sugar in a frying pan and gently cook until the garlic is golden brown. Then add shrimp, water and oyster sauce. Fry for 3-5 minutes or until shrimp are opaque and pinkish-orange.

Dip a piece of the rice paper into water, until it is saturated. Then lay it down on a clean board and fold the left side over on itself 1 inch. Then start laying out the vegetables on the side just in front of you along the folded edge - 1 bean, a piece of lettuce, 1 piece of cucumber, some sprouts, carrots, basil, rice noodles. Then line up 3 shrimp. Roll the ingredients up starting with the side closest to you. Once you have made one rotation, fold the leftover paper back onto the spring roll and continue to wrap.

Serve with dressing sauce.

BLACK STICKY RICE WITH MANGO (4-6 servings)

2 cups sticky black rice

2 1/2 cups coconut milk

1 cup palm sugar (brown sugar as substitute)

1/2 tsp salt

2 ripened mangos - peeled and sliced

Rinse the sticky rice and steam until tender and water has been absorbed.

In a separate heavy pot, heat coconut milk over medium heat. Do not boil. Add sugar and salt and stir for about 5 minutes, until it has dissolved. Removing pot from heat, pour half of the coconut sauce on top of the rice and cover, allowing the rice to absorb the sauce for 10-15 minutes.

Serve warm on individual plates with mango, drizzling remaining sauce on top.

A History of Violence

"Better to kill an innocent by mistake than to spare an enemy"
- Pol Pot

It's a middle-class neighborhood in Phnom Penh. Though small by Asian standards, the capital city is still chaotic, lively, bright and of course noisy. This section of the city is no different. Children play in doorways, shrieking with joy. Women push fruit carts as men call to foreigners "Moto, lady? Tuk tuk?". Dogs bark incessantly and vehicles honk and weave through the mess of traffic. The pervasive smell of burning garbage adds another layer to the already stifling air.

As you make your way down Street 313 from the main thoroughfare, you pass shops where Cambodians are going about their daily business. On the corner, there's a 3-story school building from the 1960s. But something is off. You stop for a moment to take in your surroundings. Then you feel it, the chilling silence. No shouts, no laughter, no cries. There are no students. In fact, Chao Ponhea Yat High School hasn't held classes in nearly 40 years.

 

On April 17, 1975 the Khmer Rouge finally took hold of the capital. Many were relieved to see the end of the Lon Nol's puppet Vietnamese government and the civil war. No one knew of the extreme communism Pol Pot had planned for Cambodia. In a weakened society where 80% lived in severe poverty, the people had a fleeting moment of salvation.

Within 48 hours the city was abandoned, a ghost town. The Khmer Rouge forced the entire population to migrate hundreds of kilometers to rural regions of the country. On a mission to create a solely agrarian society, they expunged all centers of commerce and capitalism. Known at the time simply as Angkar ("the Institution"), their radical methodology didn't stop there. Under Pol Pot's leadership they rid Cambodia of all schools, pagodas, religion, monetary system, healthcare, and personal belongings. The idea was to return Cambodia to Year One. Compulsory farm work bordered on slavery and the living conditions were no better. Even if these farmers did manage to evade Angkar, landmines throughout the countryside prevented any real escape.

In order to enforce such a drastic transition, the Khmer Rouge needed to eliminate anyone who might challenge their authority: the educated, members of the previous government, dissidents, those who wore glasses, etc. They set up interrogation centers throughout the country. The largest, housed in the former Chao Ponhea Yat High School, was known as Tuol Sleng or Security Prison 21 (S-21). Here over 17,000 Cambodians were incarcerated during the Khmer Rouge's 3.5-year rule.

There were 7 survivors.

In 1980, just one year after the Vietnamese forced the Khmer Rouge to flee, Chao Ponhea Yat High School reopened as the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. Your visit begins in Building A which held special prisoners. The rooms have not been altered: a single rusty bed frame in the middle of the room, shackles or electrocution equipment sitting on top. Each room features a large, grotesque black-and-white photo of a tortured prisoner sprawled out on the bed or floor. Like the Nazis, the Khmer Rouge meticulously documented the horrors they inflicted daily. You continue onto Building B which is filled with photos of newly-arrived prisoners. Mounted torture photos. Written "confessions" of prisoners admitting to their collaboration with the CIA or KGB. Horrifying stories of the few survivors. 

Finally in Building C you walk past the tiny brick and wood cells, the barbed wire along the hall to prevent suicide. A display holds torture instruments. There are several photos of skulls and bones, perhaps to remind you of what's to come, of what inevitably happened to all those faces you just passed. In the courtyard a sign explains how an exercise structure had been turned into a torture device. Fourteen unmarked graves dominate the center of the yard, the bodies inside decomposed beyond recognition when the Vietnamese arrived.

 You walk out of the school into the neighborhood feeling numb and find your tuk tuk driver. You hold onto the armrest and take a breath, unable to relax knowing it's only going to get worse. 15 kms outside of the city, you arrive at the Choeung Ek Killing Fields. As a Westerner, you're unnerved by how direct they are. No euphemism. Quite literally a killing field where thousands of Cambodians were brutally murdered. You learn that this was one of 300+ sites of mass murder throughout the country from that time. Walking past the stupa, you see a lawn with huge grassy indentations. Dug-up mass graves. The man on your headset is describing the killings. That they used whatever tools they had in the shed, bludgeoning their victims to death because bullets were precious commodities. That they spread DDT on the bodies to cover the stench and to kill those who survived the beatings. You see the Killing Tree where babies' heads were smashed in. Another tree where speakers hung, blasting music to drown out the screams. You overlook a peaceful pond, crying as the man illustrates his own story and how he held onto hope. After a harrowing hour you make your way back to the stupa, peeking inside to see 17 levels of bones from the 9,000 excavated bodies.

 

I've heard several people comment that visiting the Killing Fields or Auschwitz is twisted, like when you're unable to look away from a train wreck. I don't think it has anything to do with some perverse curiosity. Rather I think it's important to recognize the past, to memorialize the death of innocents, and to acknowledge what humans are capable of. Believe me, when you stands in those rooms, you have to force yourself to look and see just how terrifying those years must have been.

2 million Cambodians lost their lives because of the Khmer Rouge. I'm not sure what disturbs me most: That 1 in 4 people died during the 3 year 8 month-long nightmare; that they were killed by fellow countrymen (of their same ethnicity); that young farm boys with no education were brainwashed to kill in the name of the Khmer Rouge; that anyone over the age of 34 is a survivor; that this very modern history not taught in American schools; that this trial is still ongoing; or that after the UN learned of the atrocities they still recognized the Khmer Rouge as the legitimate leader of Cambodia, so blinded by their fear and hatred of Vietnam.

 

Some expats say Cambodia is, for lack of a better word, fucked. I disagree but you can see why they might argue such. After losing one quarter of their population, including all the educated and many skilled professionals, they literally had to start anew. How do you educate without teachers? How do you create a health system without doctors or nurses? How can you help one another grieve and heal when nearly every family lost a member and many lost several? How do you move on but still remember? And how do you build a strong government without succumbing to the corruption so ubiquitous to these parts?

It's an uphill battle every day here in Cambodia and evidence of the Khmer Rouge's legacy has seeped into the culture. Yet you see hope there too. You see young children who understand the importance of an education. You see beautiful weddings celebrations and Buddhist ceremonies. You see day-to-day routine and plans for the distant future. It's been 34 years since the Khmer Rouge terrorized Cambodia. Today is my parent's 35th anniversary. In the time my parents spent creating a life for our family, this country has managed to stand back up and move forward. It took help and there's still plenty of work to be done, but I'm not sure I'd consider that "fucked."