Matthew Botos

If Angkor Wat is Cambodia’s brightest jewel, the history of the Khmer Rouge is its darkest stain. They came to power under Pol Pot in 1975, and shut down the country’s banks, schools, and cities, sending everyone into the fields to farm. This agricultural communism turned into genocide, killing millions of Cambodians before Vietnam chased out the regime in 1979. Intellectuals and the opposition were tortured in prisons like Toul Sleng before being executed in the mass graves of The Killing Fields and hundreds of other sites.

As a former complex of school buildings with palm trees in its sunny courtyard, the transformation of Toul Sleng in the capital Phnom Penh seems particularly sinister. Drawing close to the buildings, you see the barbed wire strung across to keep prisoners from jumping to their deaths and the cramped, crude holding cells. Amidst the leg irons and torture devices, black and white mug shots of the prisoners and guards stare back like ghosts.

The Killing Fields are almost tranquil by comparison. Just outside of the city, a beautiful stupa (tower) reaches into the sky, holding the skulls of the many victims found here. Behind it, the excavated graves slowly return to nature under shady trees as butterflies dodge in and out. Signs and piles of victim’s clothing provide a link to past events. Though Cambodians grieve that none of the victims were given a properm religious burial, one hopes that they’ve finally found their peace as the country moves forward with an impressive optimism.

Driving between Siem Reap and Phenom Penh in Cambodia is quite the visual feast. The road is almost completely paved, allowing buses, motorbikes, and trucks to overtake one another without too much drama. Except for the cows, or course, which like to wander in the road and even though you can count their ribs, are big enough to be trouble.

The open rice fields are dotted with palm trees, and occasionally interrupted by strings of houses and basic wood shacks with big stacks of hay. Each cluster also sports at least one political sign for the People’s Party; given the damage done by the Khmer Rouge, you can bet they take their politics seriously here.

The motorbikes carry a bit of everything: sticks, hay, food, 3-4 people, and about 3 dead pigs! The trucks carry a bit more; often with goods and people piled high on the roof.

Pulling off the road raises the stakes. At a silk farm, the resident cat (small and skinny like all of them here), joins us for lunch with her own catch: a still wrigling gecko. She meowed in protest at being told she couldn’t bring it into the kitchen

Our group finds their own snacks: boiled silk worms! I content myself with taking some pictures of the silk process, from worms to weaving. Our afternoon rest stop is for fried spiders. Decent size ones, too - no little poppers. A few braver souls do get them down and our local tour guide gets back on the bus with a bag full for his own munching.

The temples at Angkor Wat are Cambodia’s crown cutlural jewels, remants of ancient cities and civilizations. And they are impressive: huge complexes in and out of the jungle, with intricate carvings and a myriad of photo opportunities.

Equally myriad are the opportunties to buy things, generally from children bleating out “one dollar!”. They’re quite persistant, following hagured tourists from the door of the temple to the door of the bus. Somehow the same sense of respect that requires westerners to cover up at these sacred sites doesn’t apply to locals hawking trinkets.

That said, you can have some amusing conversations thanks to their selective sales English. This little boy says to me, “Buy my bracelets - ten for one dollar! Buy for your wife.” I showed him my hands and explained, not rings, no wife. “Buy for your girlfriend”, he replies. I made a show of looking around and told him I didn’t see and girls. Then he brought it home: “Buy my braclet and you get girls!”