Day 1 in Phnom Penh, Cambodia
Saturday, 17 August 2013
2126 Hours
Another
excellent day. I woke up with the sunlight, and was still able to go back to
sleep for a couple hours. I took my time getting ready, and this time
remembered to ask for scrambled eggs, because the hotel defaults to
sunny side up (gross!). Anyway, today was the first time I traveled
domestically via airline in a foreign country. The food at the airport after
going through security was to die for: ham and cheese croissant, with a raisin
croissant and a mango yogurt smoothie. So good.
The
first thing I noticed flying into Phnom Penh was the skyscrapers…the small
handful, of course. Cambodia looks insignificant from the skies, as if you had
a backyard with nothing but dirt, and it had been raining constantly for a
week. I am blessed just to be an American. Today, again, was spent mostly in
awe, horror, and sadness from seeing the way some of the people live. Prior to
today, the most people I had seen on a motorcycle was two. Now, it’s four. I
saw a mother, father, and two very young children cruising through the streets
without helmets, boots, or any type of protection. I saw people driving their
motorcycles one-handed, with a friend in the back, while eating
corn-on-the-cob. There are few street lights or stop signs. What would normally
be a two-lane road in my home town could fit dozens of motorcycles, side by
side, as if they were racing each other. The sidewalks here are not for
walking, but rather for street vendors, trash, dirt, and rocks. Children don’t
hesitate to cross a busy intersection that has no rules. It wasn’t unusual to
see people driving the opposite direction in our lane. I am so thankful – so
thankful – that I grew up in a city that had ZERO pollution by comparison. It
smells similar here to the way it smells at a go-kart racing track. People cook
food next to piles of trash, which is burned on the sidewalks. Anyway, I’m
thankful for the life God gave me. Nick and Andy should come here sometime,
too.
I
also saw the main killing field where Pol Pot’s regime executed thousands. I
had an audio tour. What was most horrifying was hearing the guards would hold
babies by their legs, and smash their heads against a specific tree. The
Buddhists leave bracelets and other small things to honor those who passed, or
spirits that remain…that tree was full of color, and had more bracelets than
anywhere else. They would blast revolutionary Communist music to drown the
screams so the other prisoners wouldn’t hear. They didn’t use bullets, because
those were expensive. They resorted to crude gardening tools and sharp tree
branches. The thousands of skulls displayed in the main memorial building were
covered with man-made cracks, holes, and scrapes in areas around the head,
eyes, and nose. It was weird seeing the depressions in the actual ground where
people were buried – and where skeletal remains continue to be discovered.
On
the way back to my hotel, my tuk-tuk driver let me check out the
Independence Monument. It was very cool-looking…it is in the center of a huge
round-a-bout and is surrounded by a long water fountain. I liked seeing a large
Cambodian flag proudly displayed next to it. In all honestly, I am abnormally fascinated with flags. After growing up in the U.S., I think it is pretty easy to get used to seeing Old Glory everywhere: inside classrooms and sporting arenas, or in front of homes and government buildings. After awhile, it starts to blend in and become camouflaged with its surroundings. I love going to another country and seeing their flag proudly displayed, and knowing that those colors mean something special to the people that reside in that specific country. Then, when I see my own flag...I remember what it represents and means to me.
Alright,
it’s 2208, time for bed. I’m leaving at 0730 tomorrow for S-21, a high
school-turned torture center, and maybe the Royal Palace and National Museum. I
need my rest so I can be motivated!
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