To the Fields, lifted by butterflies...

Hello and welcome to Day Two!













Fields of joy, which we spotted while driving to The Killing Fields. The site of these recent and particularly disturbing events are only a short distance from the city centre. These green "eating vegetable" plantations are in a large lake that must be something to behold during the wet season.

I had to ask the driver to let me out to grab a few pics... it was quite cleansing considering the other fields that we saw that day.

It is kind of tricky to work out just how to document our experience of the Killing Fields. Being there, reading and hearing about the atrocities, and seeing the people as they absorb it into their own lives is quite overwhelming and very emotional. I really did not want to play the role of the macabre voyeur, but at times it is hard to know how else to retain the raw emotion that such a place commands. So, please bear with me through the next few images - I have kept the nasties to a minimum, and I do hope that the genuine sincerity prevails over the shock value that can so often be such a convenient soft option.

At the site of the fields, a large monument has been erected which houses many thousands of the disinterred victims... mostly as a cairn that rises in layer upon layer of neatly stacked skulls. The gruesome sight of these remains is mesmerising, but the accounts of what these people were subjected to was particularly difficult and emotional to hear.

This panoramic image (click pictures to see a larger version) shows the excavation pits and a hint of the monument in the background.

Walking through this area, I made the "mistake" of looking down at the ground a few times. Bone fragments, bits of clothing, and even teeth are continually eroding through the surface. Only a small proportion of the victims have been removed from the mass graves that litter the area.

You can see here, as Naomi strolls by a bench, some bone fragments and clothing... these reminders are all over the place. Some have been collected in piles and cairns and put to the side, but others remain where they poke through the soil. In places, the remains are so frequent that every step you take lands on them. Most of the tourists didn't even notice what they were standing on, which disturbed me even more.

In a slightly bizarre and very Cambodian twist, the gruesome monument has a shiny Welcome mat to greet you as you enter the sombre interior.

... and the following image is what greets you inside.

The contrast between the smiling faces of the locals and the grim reminders of their recent history is both baffling and inspiring. We needed some time to process it all, and fortunately the surrounding area held many reminders that reasons to smile are often very close by indeed.

The butterflies were spectacular! As were the gorgeous children who chant "One, two, three, Smile" in gentle encouragement for that lucrative little photograph. I was also amazed at this young boy, who was wading through the water only metres from where the remains of thousands lie.

My final Killing Fields photo is of a tree that caught my eye - and provided some welcome contemplative solitude as I grappled with the emotion of what we had just encountered.

Our schedule for the day also included the S21 museum, a former school that became a prison and torture site for many of the victims sent to the Killing fields. The stories there are quite horrific, and it was another emotionally harrowing experience but one that cannot be ignored.

I have some small observations of the buildings and grounds to share, but will try to refrain from gory details - suffice to say, that the intensity of emotion that hit us as we strolled through the halls and saw such tangible reminders of what had happened there was on a par with how it felt to visit similar sites in Eastern Europe where our own family histories have their darkest moments.

... the paving in the courtyard, a pattern that appears from time to time on sidewalks around the city.

beautiful glass windows - which apparently were installed in an attempt to insulate against the sounds of those being tortured inside.

- I wondered whether this door was a relic from when these were classrooms, not torture chambers...

One of the wings of the school had been roughly converted into solitary confinement cells, tiny areas of unfinished brick with the chains, leg fetters and latrine buckets remaining as they were discovered. The fresh rawness was evident everywhere. This was so different to being in a sanitised, "museum" environment.

With barbed wire sealing the entrances, the above classrooms had crude doorways hacked through to make a corridor, with tiny brick cells either side.

I lost myself for a bit, but thankfully there was a sign to get me back on track:

(I'm not quite sure how everyone else managed it, but G.B. knew where to go - somewhere in --> that direction)

As you may be able to tell, I think that might be enough of the sad stories for now. If the Cambodians have shown us anything, it is that life does indeed move on - and move on fast

... a window latch, on one of the shutters...

...and the Tourist Police! I am not quite sure what they do that is different to regular police, maybe they actually are tourists?

There is one last perplexing element of visiting these historical sites. It seems that people often bundle a trip to the Killing Fields with some time at a nearby shooting range! We were quite baffled, and had to vehemently refuse several times when offered the opportunity to go shoot things within a few hours of witnessing the some of the nastier, gruesomely violent local history.

To clear our heads a little, we spent time in the tranquil gardens of the National Museum.

Monks in orange robes... very cliché but they really are remarkably scenic!

I was not wearing orange, nor am I a monk - but I do believe an air of mystical benevolence and inner peace was happening somewhere nearby...

Above, Naomi has a chat with a young monk. He was very gentle, to the point of being quite effeminate (or maybe that was just his eyelashes standing out against the shaved head) as he told us about how even though he is a monk his dream is to go to university to study commerce and business subjects. Go Capitalists!

I was quite taken by the reflections of the buildings, in the water of the central ponds...

(please keep in mind that I am still trying to learn how to use this new camera!)

:)

As we left the museum, we met an elephant who was carrying a gift - a giant artichoke! Yum yum.

The day was harrowing, but very worthwhile. We wound down over a nice meal or two - and gave ourselves the time we needed to process it all.

...trying to work out where to head for dinner

- Naomi points out the staples that held her fishy curry together (we never found out what the jelly goop on top was!)

This is our steamboat soup spectacular - a cook-at-your-table soup, complete with competing beer girlies who dilligently top up your glass all through the meal. Naomi went for Angkor girl, because Heineken lady seemed a bit grumpy. I had my usual, "Hi-Tech" brand water.

The soup was tasty, and even though we asked for no meat... it came with tripe and a few other squishy bits that neither of us had any interest in consuming. For us, the noodles and vegies did the job well :)

Our final image for the day is a butterfly that was entertaining us at the National Museum. It really is wonderful, how no matter what heaviness might be in your heart, the delicate and happy flitter of butterflies has its own unique way of lifting your spirits.

Wishing you all love and smiles,

- Naomi and Guy.