Saturday, February 20, 2010

"NO HOPE. NO LIFE."

PHNOM PENH, CAMBODIA
Temperature: 29 Degrees Celsius
Track of the day: 'Little Lion Man,' Mumford and Sons
I can't believe we lost our camera." I say as we fly between Malaysia and Cambodia, "we've been backpacking for almost a year straight and we left it in an airport," I add incredulously. "Oh well," Alecs says, "there's no use crying over spilled milk. We have an extra camera and your parents can give us their photos from Malaysia," he adds. Still frustrated, I try and look on the bright side - we will be landing in Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia in a matter of minutes. We cruise through immigration and catch a couple taxi's straight to our hotel - The Pavillion - where Alecs and I stayed during our last visit here 9 months ago. Sam, Alecs and I check into our room while mom and dad head over to theirs. While we have a beautiful large room with two bedrooms, a spacious balcony, teak wood floors and a 42" plasma TV it pales in comparison to the room mom and dad are in. The three of us wander through reception and past the large hotel pool to the exact room Alecs and I stayed in during our holiday here last March. This room was our refuge and after spending most of our 3 month journey in $7-10/night hotels staying here was beyond what we could have imagined, and it still impresses us. We enter the room and immediately head for the large wooden french door leading to a secluded private patio where looming banana trees and lush foliage surround a good sized private pool for the five of us to enjoy. We immediately jump in the pool to cool off and spend a good chunk of time doing so until finally we decide to head out for dinner. Outside the hotel we scan the street for a couple tuk-tuk's and are flagged down by a pleasant looking man who quickly commandeers another tuk-tuk and we all head to the main strip along the river. "How about this place," I say checking out the menu of a nice little eatery with huge comfy chairs outside where we can feel the warm breeze under the night sky. We settle into a table and order some grub and some Angkor Beer. "Sam, you are going to love Angkor Beer," I say as he pours everyone a glass, "this is one of the very best beer's I've ever had," I add. Sam quickly grows a fondness for Angkor Beer and it soon becomes a staple with every meal. After dinner we arrange to have our drivers pick us up tomorrow and take us to the Toel Sleng Prison and the Choeng Ek killing fields around 10am - giving us plenty of time for a morning swim.

After our included hotel breakfast of baguettes, scones, two eggs, a tray of fruit, coffee and fresh fresh fresh juice and quick dip in the pool we are all excited to head out into the bustling city capital. Our first stop has us wading through a sea of landmine victims into the former Toel Sleng S21 Prison turned Genocide museum where around 20,000 people were held before execution. Despite having been here before the gravity of what happened to Cambodia so recently (1975-1979) has not lost it's affect. In mid-1975 Pol Pot, the leader of the Khmer Rouge party came to power with the idea to create an agrarian civilization forcing city dwellers to relocate to the countryside to work in collective farms and forced labor projects renaming this 'year zero'. The combined effects of slave labor, malnutrition, poor medical care, and executions resulted in the deaths of an estimated 1.7 to 2.5 million people, approximately 1/4 of the Cambodian population. At any one time, the S-21 prison held between 1,000-1,500 prisoners. They were repeatedly tortured and coerced into naming family members and close associates, who were in turn arrested, tortured and killed. We silently walk through the former interrogation cells used for prisoners deemed to have valuable information. Vietnamese photographer Ho Van Thay was the first media person to document Toel Sleng prison to the rest of the world. He and his crew followed the smell of rotting corpses to the gate of S21. Inside he found 14 contorted bodies chained to beds, lying in pools of their own blood. These prisoners were killed by guards upon liberation by the Vietnamese and today Van Thay's photographs hang grimly in each cell painting a far too graphic image of the travesties committed here. The museum holds photographs of hundreds of the victims and paintings by one of the 14 known survivors depicting the torture and life in prison. A day in the prison began at 4:30am when prisoners were ordered to strip for inspection. Guards checked to ensure shackles were not loose and that prisoners were not concealing weapons they could use to commit suicide. The prison had very strict rules, and severe beatings were inflicted on any prisoner who tried to disobey. They were often forced to eat human feces and drink human urine. Every prisoner brought to S21 was forced to sign a confession and tortured until they did so. We enter a room filled with many of the former torture devices alongside paintings by survivor Vann Nath depicting their usage. Prisoners were routinely beaten and tortured with electric shocks, searing hot metal instruments and hanging. Other methods for generating confessions included pulling out fingernails while pouring alcohol over the wounds, holding prisoners heads under water, water boarding and rape. Although many prisoners died from this kind of abuse, killing them outright was discouraged since the Khmer Rouge needed their confessions. Once a confession was given the Khmer Rouge would then hunt down anyone related to or affiliated with that person for extermination. Before leaving the prison we read a simple yet powerful poem by Sarith Pou about life under the Khmer Rouge regime:

"No religious rituals.
No religious symbols.
No fortune teller.
No traditional healer.
No paying respect to elders.
No social status. No titles.
No education. No training.
No School. No learning.
No books. No library.
So science. No technology.
No pens. No paper.

No currency. No bartering.
No buying. No selling.
No begging. No giving.
No purses. No wallets.
No human rights. No liberty.
No courts. No judges.
No laws. No attorneys.

No communications.
No public transportation.
No private transportation.
No travelling. No mailing.
No inviting. No visiting.
No faxes. No telephones.

No social gatherings.
No chitchatting.
No jokes. No laughter.
No music. No dancing.
No romance. No flirting.
No fornication. No dating.
No wet dreaming.
No masturbating.
No naked sleepers.
No bathers.
No nakedness in showers.
No love songs. No love letters.
No affection.
No marrying. No divorcing.
No marital conflicts. No fighting.
No profanity. No cursing.

No shoes. No sandals.
No toothbrushes. No razors.
No combs. No mirrors.
No lotions. No make up.
No long hair. No braids.
No jewelery.
No soap. No detergent. No shampoo.
No knitting. No embroidering.
No coloured clothes, except black.
No styles, except pyjamas.

No wine. No palm sap hooch.
No lighters. No cigarettes.
No morning coffee. No afternoon tea.
No snacks. No desserts.
No breakfast {sometimes no dinner}.

No mercy. No forgiveness.
No regret. No remorse.
No second chances. No excuses.
No complaints. No grievances.
No help. No favors.
No eyeglasses. No dental treatment.
No vaccines. No medicines.
No hospitals. No doctors.
No disabilities. No social diseases.
No tuberculosis. No leprosy.
No kites. No marbles. No rubber bands.
No cookies. No Popsicle. No candy.
No playing. No toys.
No lullabies.
No rest. No vacations.
No holidays. No weekends.
No games. No sports.
No staying up late.
No newspapers.
No radio. No TV.No drawing. No painting.
No pets. No pictures.
No electricity. No lamp oil.
No clocks. No watches.

No hope. No life.
A third of the people didn't survive.
The regime died."

Stop number two has us at the Choeung Ek Killing Fields - the location of mass graves containing 8,895 bodies discovered at after the fall of the Khmer Rouge regime. Many of the dead were former inmates in the Toul Sleng prison. As we walk around it's hard for us to imagine the atrocities committed here. Today the killing fields seem serene, a small pond in the middle, large palm trees, lush green grass but fragments of teeth, bones and scraps of clothes littler the ground next to empty mass graves where bodies once laid. In order to save ammunition, the executions were often carried out using hammers, axe handles, spades or sharpened bamboo sticks. Some victims were required to dig their own graves; their weakness often meant that they were unable to dig very deep. A large memorial stupa stands in the centre where hundreds of skulls sit on display categorised by age - babies 0-5, women 15-20, men 70-100 - these skulls represent such a small number of the people killed by the Khmer Rouge. Toel Sleng Prison and Choeng Ek Killing fields are notorious for the heinous acts committed there but every Cambodian has a story - everyone lost someone to starvation, disease, overworking, disobedience, having an urban accent, looking Vietnamese, Chinese or Thai and no one has yet to be punished. The S21 prison director, known as 'Duch' is currently on trial with a verdict expected to be reached by this March. He has however asked to be released after the trial claiming he too was a victim and forced to run the prison as he did. It is expected he will receive 40 years in prison but for the Cambodian people there is no punishment that can undo what was done.
Until next time so long,
Alecs and Meg in Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

"OH BOY, THIS IS GOING TO BE A BIG WAVE"

CHERATING BEACH, MALAYSIA
Temperature: 31 Degrees Celsius
Track of the day: "Life is wonderful, Jason Mraz"
"This has to be one of the nicest buses I've ever been on," Alecs says to me after we are served a light lunch and a cup of tea en route to Cherating. "I would have to agree," I say nodding my head, "but don't forget the sleeper bus we took in Southern Laos," I add. Although we agree that the bus we took in Laos was better, we cannot help but notice how comfy this one is. With huge plush reclining chairs, a tray table, light lunch, coffee and tea served onboard and only 6 people on board (including the five of us) it makes the 4 hour ride fly by. We arrive a short while later in a little town 45 minutes outside Cherating where we hail a couple taxi's to transport us to Cherating Beach Resort. In contrast to our rather drab Kuala Lumpur hotel this resort immediately has us all relaxed. Two large inviting pools lead towards the beach, dotted with palm trees and a long stretch of sand. Our family room proves plenty big enough for the 5 of us, with two bedrooms, a living room and 3 bathrooms with a large balcony overlooking the pool. We barely spend five minutes in the room before we're all changed and heading to the beach. Long reclining beach chairs under nipa umbrellas spill onto the soft sand where the clear blue waves splash against the shore. We all head straight for the water, which is tropically warm and refreshing all at the same time. Being the off season the waves are quite powerful, but that in there lies the fun. We wade out a dozen meters or so to the point where the waves break and crash into us. A particularly large wave comes towards us and we all brace for the impact and suddenly I feel my face sliding along the sand under the water. Scrambling to pull my head above water I seem to only exacerbate the situation causing myself to perform somersaults as I am swept towards shore. When I finally get back on my feet I am hit with yet another wave. After gathering my senses I scan the horizon and find the rest of the family scattered along the beach, regaining balance and pushing back out for another dosage of pain. "Oh boy, this is going to be a big wave," Mom shouts as we are sucked out like a high powered vacuum before a pummeling wave crushes us all sending us barrelling towards the shore. The afternoon continues on much the same until we all agree we have too much sand in too many places to continue. Gathering up our belongings we head back to our hotel room but find ourselves unable to resist the temptation of a beautiful, blue, large and very empty pool. It isn't long before we are all swimming laps in the freshwater, racing each other from end to end and I even bring down some snorkelling equipment to play around with. A shower and a quick catnap back in our breezy room precedes a lovely dinner at the beach side restaurant. Wanting to try some authentic Malaysian cuisine I opt for Nasi Lemak, a coconut based stew served over rice and we all order fresh tropical colourful drinks. For a starter we are served a variety of kebabs with a delicious Malaysian peanut sauce as well as some vegies for dipping. "This rice cube is really good," Alecs notes as he savours the delicious treat. "It's like a sugar cube, only it's rice," Dad says as we all finish off the plate agreeing to try and make this at home. Our main courses arrive and my dish lives up to the Malaysian spicy food name. "What are you doing?" Sam asks laughing through sips of his fruit shake. "I'm trying to eat everything really quickly," I say as I shovel spoonfuls of food into my mouth, "so I can enjoy the taste before I feel the burn." With that last sentence my mouth comes alive with pain and I manage to slurp down an entire coke, eat all the ice and half the rice before the feeling subsides. While the Nasi Lemak proves to be thoroughly delicious I doubt I shall try it again for a while. The sun has set and the lights around the two pools illuminate the resort and we wander to the outdoor billiards room to shoot a few rounds of pool. Mom, Me and Alecs against Sam and Dad but the result is always the same - of course I will say my team won every game but that might be greatly contended by a couple others. Now thoroughly relaxed in our secluded piece of paradise where we are the only foreigners around we head to bed, happy as clams.
"I'm ready," Alecs says the next morning, already changed, towel in hand as I groggily rub my eyes having just woke up. "We're on vacation," I say glaring at him, "you should still be sleeping." Alecs shakes his head, "exactly," he says smiling, "we are on vacation so lets go to the beach." Surprisingly enough Sam and Dad are already awake, however they soon make it quite apparent that they spent a little too much time in the sun yesterday. Sam and Dad are both a brilliant shade of red and every movement causes them considerable pain. Still, it isn't long before we are chowing down on a delicious breakfast and back on the beach in the lazy lounge chairs. Our morning and afternoon consist of much the same as yesterday, fighting the waves, sipping fruity cocktails, building sandcastles, eating burgers and ending with a long swim in the empty pool, along with some moans and groans from the burnt onesThis evening we are having tepanyaki at the beach restaurant but decide to head into town for a look around before hand. We are dropped off along the main drag and lazily make our way down the street checking out all the quirky little shops en route. We stop at a little outdoor hole in the wall restaurant cum bar cum guesthouse for a few beers along the river. Running through the town is a muggy little river/creek where firefly's come alive at night and nestled beside the river are a number of little family run places. We grab a little wooden table outdoors and order a couple pitchers of beer. A young boy arrives with our beer and some frozen mugs- and by frozen I truly mean frozen. "Um," Dad stutters looking at his glass, "I think this mug is a little too chilled," he says to the boy smiling. Indeed, his mug is not just icy chilled like ours are but rather is one solid piece of ice inside and out (you couldn't pour beer in it if you tried. The kid and his friends quickly de-thaw the glass and we all sit around the table enjoying the night sky. A little thatch roof living room sits beside us where the young boy and his family watch an old Val Kilmer movie that proves to be particularly cheesy proving some great laughs. After our drinks we head down to the beach before grabbing some ice cream and heading back to the resort for dinner. Our time continues on much the same, beach, tropical drinks, pool, billiards, video arcade games, beach and just relaxing until like all good things it also comes to an end. Our last morning it starts to rain, a fitting goodbye as we pack up our belonging and head back to Kuala Lumpur. The bus ride back to the city seems much longer than the bus ride there and we are all feeling a little down but consoled by the fact we will be in Cambodia tomorrow - a true love of our lives.
Until next time so long,
Alecs and Meg in Cherating, Malaysia

Monday, February 15, 2010

"ONLY 52 MORE STAIRS TO GO"

KUALA LUMPUR, MALAYSIA
Temperature: 29 Degrees Celsius and humidity you could cut with a knife
Track of the day: Long time coming, Oliver James
"We should try and get the second time slot," I say glancing at the electronic board used to issue tickets up the Petronas towers. "Ya the first one is full, but there are still 10 spaces left in the second time slot," Alecs says as we move closer to the front of the impossibly long line. Luckily we are issued tickets for the second timeslot of the day and move to the interactive holding area and wait for our turn to ascend to the top. The Petronas Twin Towers were once the world's tallest buildings until Taipei 101 surpassed them in 2004 and the skybridge that we will visit links the two buildings together between the 41st and 42nd floor. Once our group is called we board a freight elevator to the sky bridge where we are given 15 minutes to explore the area. The sky bridge offers sweeping views of the city and glass walkways to the ground below. Several mosques, including the beautiful and large national mosque dot the city below as the hustle and bustle continues while we gaze from above, detached from the world below. "My ears are popping," Alecs says as we descend from the sky bridge, down the elevator at a rather quick pace. Back in the interactive holding area Alecs tries his hand at the 'building sway simulator' to feel the distance the building moves in high wind. "You're a dork," I say rolling my eyes as we leave the towers. "I know," he says smiling as the five of us pile into a taxi heading to Batu caves. Batu caves, located about 14 km outside Kuala Lumpur is a limestone hill with a series of caves and cave temples and is one of the most popular Hindu temples outside India. The world's tallest statue of Murugan, a Hindu deity stands proudly at the bottom of the 272 stairs to the top of the cave. We reluctantly begin our climb in the hot and muggy air past scores of monkeys lining the trees and railings beside us. A young monkey holds a Coke can upside down hoping for a few caffeinated drops of sugar. "Almost there," Sam says noting the stair numbered 220, "only 52 more stairs to go." Once we finally reach the top we stare into the centre of cathedral cave, so named for it's 100 meter vaulted ceiling. We continue up another flight of stairs to the next cave where a monkey throws a coconut from the ceiling at the people below, narrowly avoiding a few. The climb back down the stairs proves much less tiring and we stop for a quick ice cream at the bottom before heading out to the butterfly farm. The butterfly farms is filled with large colourful monarch butterflies and a myriad of flora and fauna in a sweltering humid enclosure. Before exiting we spend some time watching the lazy tortoises and turtles swimming about and then head back to the hotel. Dinner and an early night wraps up the evening as tomorrow we are off to Cherating Beach - a four hour bus ride away.
Until next time so long,
Alecs and Meg in Kuala Lumpur