Day 1 - Monday July 16thSo here I am again. About an hour ago I left my home.Billy walked me to the car."See you soon." "See you soon."It is always the last thing we say before this kind of trip or time apart. It feels better than "I’ll miss you" or "good-bye." We never say good-bye.This time I almost started to cry when I heard the car was outside, but not because I didn’t want to go, or because I would miss Billy. I was suddenly aware of how safe my home felt. This time I know the things I will see, and I know there is also so much I am unaware of that I am about to discover. I am embarrassed to realize(and to admit) how much I was able to return to my life after Africa. I know I was able to do so because I kept in touch and I have continued to try to help from a distance. But it’s easy to make phone calls and send letters and funds from the comfort and safety of your own home.Maybe I think I should feel guilty for my ability to come and go from these places when others have no choice. I know one thing. I know I appreciate everything more. My husband, his kids, our home, my mother, and my brother. I am so grateful for my life.I continue to be indebted to those people around the world. I wanted to help them and I realize more and more everyday how they have helped me.I am writing by the light of morning just breaking through. Mine is the only window shade up. But only a little Everyone is asleep on the plane.I can’t sleep. I have five more hours until I reach Zurich then a few more hours to Geneva. Hours after I arrive I will be meeting the High Commissioner For Refugees. It will be an honor, as it would be to meet anyone who has dedicated his or her life to helping others. Be it millions of people from countries around the world, a great parent to a child, a caring teacher to her class, or just a good friend – all are equally important in this life. When they say "each person can make a difference," I believe that is true.I have many questions to ask the High Commissioner.How is it in today’s world with all our awareness, abilities, and resources, over 800 million people go to bed hungry every night.How long have there been refugees from Rwanda? Hundreds of thousands were forced from their homes and not properly given care and shelter.I will not be asking him for answers. I know UNHCR(United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees) has limited resources. I know all I have stated are his frustrations as well, but maybe he can help me understand how rebels in Sierra Leone can attack so fiercely, cutting off limbs of thousands, and forcing tens of thousands out of their homes.Why are these rebels not seen as enough of a threat to be removed from power? It seems there are steps being taken, but the process looks as though it could go on for years, leaving many in refugee status.Many refugees are victims of war, political, religious and other forms of persecution. In their initial chaos of fleeing and seeking safety in another country, most victims lose virtually every right and material possession which form the cornerstone of any civilized society- their homes, personal belongings, schooling and health care, close family members and friends and sometimes even their identities.As good as the camps can be, they only provide just enough for basic survival to otherwise doomed people. They are still, in fact, camps. The walls that protect them also close them in. The borrowed land they are on is often surrounded by local people who see them as a burden, often unwelcome. In some cases, there is so much violence against them, the refugees are forced to move again. Sometimes they have to go back into the danger of their homeland. GENEVA 
Day 2 - Tuesday July 17thThe sky out side my hotel window is clear blue. I just received a fax as I walked in the hotel. It was from Luong Ung. After speaking out about my love for Cambodia and my horror at the land mine situation there, I received a letter from Luong and her book First They Killed My Father. First They Killed My Father A Daughter of Cambodia Remembers Loung Ung Between 1975 and 1979, through starvation, disease, forced labor, torture and execution, the Khmer Rouge systematically killed an estimated two million Cambodians. Almost one fourth of the entire Cambodian population lost their lives in the Khmer revolution. With First They Killed My Father, Loung Ung bears poignant witness to this senseless slaughter. Her harrowing story of the degradation of the human spirit and the loss of innocence, of the atrocities she saw and her struggle to survive against all odds is one of incomprehensible tragedy and inspirational triumph. No one who reads this book will reach its last page unchanged. Born into a middle class family, Loung Ung was just five years old when Pol Pot’s genocidal Khmer Rouge overran the country and forced the entire population of the capital into the country side. By 1978, Ung’s parents and two siblings were dead at the hands of Khmer Rouge. And young Loung was being trained to become a child soldier. Two years later, Ung and her older brother escaped and eventually settled as refugees in Vermont through a sponsorship by the Holy Family Church. Today Loung is the national spokesperson for Vietnam Veterans of America Foundation’s Campaign for a Landmine Free World. She has spoken at numerous conferences, universities, and corporations, including M.I.T., Cornell University and the Sony Corporation. Her exceptional story has gained worldwide acclaim, with reviews in The New York Times, Washington Post, Dallas Morning News, Publishers Weekly and many, many other newspapers and magazines. Taken from the Campaign for a Landmine Free World, A program of Vietnam Veterans of America Foundation. After reading it I was nervous to speak to her. She had become my hero. I got in touch with the VVAF(Vietnam Veterans of America Foundation) where she is the spokesperson for the Campaign For a Land Mind Free World.The fax is about a possible visit to The Khien Khleang Rehabilitation Clinic. It also tells me that she will be on the same plane from Bangkok to Phnom Penh tomorrow. She writes, "How exciting to be meeting for the first time at the gate to Thailand."She told me about Battambang. This was her grandmother’s and her mother’s home province, as well as the birthplace of many uncles, aunts, and cousins. She has not been back there since she was three or four years old.She also writes about wanting to join me at HALO The HALO Trust is a non-political, non-religious NGO(Non-Government Organization), which specializes in removal of the debris of war. Over the past eight years 43 HALO staff have been killed or maimed, a sacrifice that has saved many thousands of lives. The organization is concerned solely with de-activating mines and not the politically sensitive campaign against their manufacture and deployment. It is just past 7 PM. I have spent the last couple of hours at UNHCR headquarters. I continue to be amazed at the dedication they have to their work.I was taken to the basement. This is also where they all gather together when there are emergencies. It is where they go when then need to solve problems as quickly as possible. So often they are contacted to help a mass of people in just a matter of a few hours. Elba was there. Five months ago, she and I met in Sierra Leone. At that time she showed me photos of her family and spoke of spending more time with them. I remember her telling me about her Christmas when (within 72 hours) she was suddenly living in Africa laying down plans for structures and programs to help with an emergency situation. Now she is in Geneva preparing for her next mission. As long as there are emergency situations and she knows she has the ability to help, I don’t think she could ever turn her back or stay at home too long.You realize everyone here feels this way.They volunteer to be anywhere in the world to help others. They put themselves in danger of being beaten up, raped, and maybe even killed (as some have been). There is a kindness they showed to me and to each other – a softness and a sadness. They have all been witness to the worst suffering in this world. They know loss and death, but they also know the value of friendship and hope. They have had to rely on each other in their darkest hour.I met Kofi Annan and found out he started in UNHCR. He was very kind. He had given a speech earlier that day to everyone in the office. I am sorry I missed it. Everyone was talking about how good it made them feel. They spoke about his honesty and how he answered the questions in a straightforward clear manner. Someone asked him to talk about the difficult times the organization is having now. He told us there has been a 20% cutback in funds already receiving only 2% of the UN funds – in the last few years they began to also assist not only refugees but also IDP (Independent Displaced Persons). UNHCR has suffered financial cutbacks of about 130 million (about 14 percent). The overall number of UNHCR posts is expected to go down from 4,828 to 4,065 by the end of the year 2001. A number of UNHCR workers have to leave the organization because of the cutbacks. These changes in the budget will force UNHCR to refocus and scale back many of their field operations. He didn’t promise them he could make it better. He acknowledged their struggle, and he said, "UNHCR has had difficult times before and most likely will again, but through it all, they have always managed to continue to do good."I had dinner with the High Commissioner, Ruud Lubbers, his executive assistance, Shoko Shimozawa, his chef de cabinet, Yacoub Ali El-Hillo, and the Head of Private Sector and Public affairs for UNHCR, Pierre-Bernard Le Bas. It seemed strange at first, but I soon realized that was only because I expected to meet someone who would seem superior or at least very serious. To my surprise, the High Commissioner was very funny - very human. He told us stories of his politics as well as personal stories of his family. What was most impressive to me was how curious he was of all of us at the table. He was never judging and genuinely valued all of our differences and all of our opinions. I learned many things – too much to write – most interesting was the mix of people he made sure were at the dinner. He told me he did it on purpose. I was the American. At times during the night I was proud of that and at other times I was not. Everyone seemed to feel the same about their own country. No one at the table wanted to be right. No one pretended to know the answers. Some of us were more optimistic than others, but all respectfully listened and learned from one another. If that is the essence of this organization – or the essence of what The United Nations is – then I could see tonight how it just might be the answer.There was a talk tonight about a recent focus on ourselves. People and governments seem to have become more internal. We need to think on an international level. Globally |
I am not sure what day it is. I took off from Geneva for Zurich this morning.
From Zurich I have been traveling over nine hours and I am about to land
in Bangkok where it is 6:05 AM. Here I will meet UNHCR contacts and hopefully
find Luong. 2 hours in Bangkok and then on to Phnom Penh – from there to
Siem Reap.As soon as I was off the plane I met Jahansa and Marie- Noëlle.
They told me it was Thursday July 19th, which of course means the first few dates recorded in this
journal may be confusing. I was recording LA time. Cambodia is fourteen
hours ahead of Los Angeles.Met also Ravut, who is a Cambodian ex- refugee now working with UNHCR.We spoke for two hours and then a man walked up and gave me a note. Luong Ung is here.I stepped out of the room to the main lounge area. It only took moments for our eyes to meet. We smiled as we walked up to one another and we hugged as if we had known each for years. CAMBODIA UNHCR PHNOM PHEN OFFICE ASYLUM calls upon the need for tolerance and SEEKERS respect for individuals. PROJECT '92-'93 in time for elections- the one year bringing 400,000 back - another year 45,000Video ’98 – a little kid carrying his little dog across the Thai border.Everyone in Cambodia wants to maintain thepeace. They have been through so much. The people of this country are an amazing example of what can be done. Everyone talks of the tremendous courage of the refugees. All of UNHCR have a great respect for them and are very proud to be working with these refugees. We had lunch at Katie’s apartment. She speaks Khmer. It’s a beautiful language. Just hearing it made me want to learn it. Later today we met back up with Luong to travel towards HALO on yet another plane. She said she was "so lucky." I couldn’t believe I heard these words from a woman who has had an extremely difficult life, if not the most challenging, horrifying life of anyone I have ever met.We arrived at Halo Trust in Siem Reap, and we started off on a three and a half hour journey by road. I feel like I’ve been traveling for a week. I pulled out a bag of tapes that Billy packed for me. Katie picked The Beatles 1967-1970. Ravut said he liked Santana. We smiled at each other. Around the world – not so different.n the van they began to talk about amazing musicians they once had in Cambodia. They said of one, "He was like your Elvis, but Pol Pot killed him."Along the road we passed many small huts with chickens running around outside. On a beautiful day, like today, you smile when you see the little children playing.There are people carrying water. Long wooden poles are held behind their neck and shoulders. Buckets of water are balanced on each end.This country almost looks like the paradise God intended – God, Allah, Buddha, The Great Spirit. Then it dawns on you that these little shacks are where they live. It is all they have and the truth here is that the beautiful jungle that surrounds them has not been cleared of land mines. The road we were traveling on led to Ang Long Veng. Only two years ago this area was where Pol Pot lived and died. His grave is up here. In May ’98 people were repatriated here. Pol Pot was born in 1925. He was born into a prominent family. He attended school in Paris. He led the reorganization of Cambodia’s Party in 1960. In 1963, he began the to organize the Khmer Rouge. This was a communist party that eventually took over the present government. Pol Pot and his Khmer regime ruled extremely harshly, taking over businesses and outlawing religion. They enlisted children into the military. Many died because of the brutality. The civilians were starved and brutally overworked. The Khmer regime also executed many members of the former government, educated people, and some religious leaders. In 1979, The Vietnamese invaded Cambodia. This and other events including a UN Peace treaty in 1991, and a new constitution in 1993 ended the reign of the Khmer Rouge. Pol Pot officially retired in 1985, but continued to run guerilla operation from his hiding places in the mountains. This faction collapsed shortly before his death in 1998.HALO HeadquartersIt was like an army barracks.The Head of the Ang Long Veng office, Matthew, greets us. He tells us where our quarters are. We are four women. They have four little rooms. Ravut, Mao, and twelve other men sleep in the main room lined with cots. They are the best they have and better than I was expecting. Still, it is clear to me, as always, that these humanitarian aid workers do not live far above the living standard of the area. However, unlike the local people, here we have a toilet and a shower.The lights went out during dinner (white rice, and meat). They explained to us how they share power with the hospital and they may be performing surgery. We were all quiet and sat very still in the dark for a few moments until someone flicked on a lighter. I noticed thunder in the sky. I also heard it on the drive here. I always thought that thunder was impossible with no rain.I went to my room first. I’m exhausted.I am now in bed writing this under a mosquito net in room number 2. I discovered that all the cell phones don’t work from this area. I had been planning to call home or at least leave a message that I have arrived here and I am safe.The HALO officer said tomorrow I could use the satellite phone if it was an emergency. I hope I can find another way. I don’t want to have to ask that of them.The room below the guest quarters looks like a meeting room. On my way to my room I couldn’t help but notice all the bomb casings. BLAST MINES, pressure activated, rips off the lower half of the leg and projects shoe, dirt and bone higher up into the leg, causing secondary infection and higher amputation. This is the most common form of mine - the Soviet PMN (Black Widow) is one of the most popular. Deployed in vast numbers in Afghanistan, Cambodia, North Iraq/Kurdistan, Iran, Nicaragua, Angola, Mozambique and many other countries. DIRECTIONAL MINES, often known as the 'Claymore' mine. Propels 700 steel balls forward in a 60 degree arc. Kills at up to 50 meters and maims at up to 100 meters. 70 percent remain lethal for over 20 years. FRAGMENTATION MINES, are packed with fragments, which are projected by the explosion killing anyone within 25 meters and causing extensive damage to the legs, stomach and chest over 25 meters. A cast iron body attached to a wooden stake, commonly used in Cambodia. BOUNDING MINES, are packed with fragments, which are projected by the explosion killing anyone within 25 meters and causing extensive damage to the legs, stomach and chest over 25 meters. A cast iron body attached to a wooden stake, commonly used in Cambodia.When you really look at them you can’t help but to realize they are not being made by these local field soldiers(even though they do improvise). These weapons and explosives were originally made by manufacturing plants run by governments like mine. Day 5 - Friday July 20th I am writing by a small shaft of light coming in through the wood boards on the wall. I don’t know what time it is. About an hour ago I woke up. My feet are itching like crazy. Somehow through the net I was stung a number of times on the bottom of each foot. I am not looking forward to putting my boots on. I hear sounds of motorcycles, trucks, whistles, and dishes clanging. After a while, the roosters began to crow. My shower was neither hot nor cold. Just a pump to pour water over. For breakfast I had instant coffee and a fish sandwich.HALO(Hazardous Areas Life-Support Organization) HALO’s goals are to return mined areas of land back to the local community for development. HALO is a UK NGO based out of London. They conduct mine clearance operations and dispose of unexploded shells all over the world. Besides working in Cambodia, Halo is currently active in Afghanistan, Angola, Chenya, Mozambique, and Kosovo. 
Most Heavily Mined Countries Country
Number of land-mines per square mile Estimated total number of land-mines
Bosnia and Herzegovina 152 3,000,000 Cambodia 143 10,000,000 Croatia 173 3,000,000 Egypt 60 23,000,000 Iraq 59 10,000,000 Afghanistan 40 10,000,000 Angola 31 15,000,000 Iran 25 16,000,000 Rwanda 15 250,000 Source: United Nations Department of Humanitarian Affairs. Note: There is too little information about some countries. such as Viet Nam to include them in the estimates.Seriously Affected Countries: * Georgia,Mozambique,Myanmar,Nicaragua,Somalia,Sri Lanka,Sudan,Armenia,Azerbaijan Chad,Columbia,Cuba,El Salvador,Ethiopia,Eritrea,Guatemala,Falklands/Malvinas,Honduras Iran,Kuwait,Libya,Russia,Rwanda,Tajikistan,Uzbekistan Information taken from www.oneworld.org They are non-political, non-religious. They are neutral. They have great strength in working with the local staff. In Cambodia there are 900 locals working. UNHCR asked Halo to conduct a survey in Cambodia in the early 1990’s. Many areas were landlocked, surrounded by mined areas. (Most in NW Thai border) Blast Mine: a minimal metal mine, hard to find, has the diameter of a cup, and is about an inch thick.Pomz Fragmentation Mine: tripwire, designed to shatter in 300 degree radius. PMD6: wooden shoebox mine.50% of landmine victims die, either at the moment of explosion o from bleeding to death. The 50% who survive are nearly all serious amputees.We drive into Halo land rovers to Toul Prasat where they have cleared a large area. Now there is a school and two wells.We sit under a blue tarp on two wooden benches. A map lays in the center. Three local Cambodian men working with Halo explain the map.56,593 square meters need to be cleared. 49,268 square meters have been cleared.The map shows the green area is cleared. The white area not cleared yet. The red dots are symbols for 72 landmines found and 40 plus bombs.Skull and cross-bone symbols are accidents. There are three.They point to one, "He lost his leg." Then another, "he lost an eye and his arm."Blue circles are wells.A man talked to us about safety. A plastic orange stretcher was behind him as he talked.Four poles were shown to us. Red is used for where explosives were found. About ten feet in front of us are four red poles. Red and white are used for boundaries.Blue means cleared.White means not cleared.He then shows us some major trauma kits.He also gave us a very serious order, "If you hear explosions while you are in the minefield – don’t move."This minefield is one of forty-seven HALO is now clearing in Cambodia.We stop at a school next to the mine field.School is only first and second grade. The children are between six and fourteen years old. There are only four teachers for over 240 children.These teachers have not been paid. If they were, it would be only be about $15.00 a month. When the school was built by the government the area had not been cleared for mines. When Halo checked the road the children take to school, they found five explosives just a step from where kids were walking.I look around where I am standing. I see so many faces. So beautiful. So many children.Before HALO they were all living here in minefields out of necessity.Today two landmines had been discovered. I was allowed to detonate one of them with TNT. I must say it was a great feeling to destroy something that would have otherwise hurt or possibly killed another person.After the explosion, Luong explained how many refugees, herself included, were frightened the first time they were in the United States for the 4th of July fireworks.We had white rice, meat, and vegetables for lunch. Then we packed for tonight.Luong, Matthew, a local man with HALO and I will take motor bikes to a small village where we will sleep this evening. The best way to know the people and the land is to understand what cleared areas can become and spend time with the local people.First, we will all go to a resettled area that HALO cleared. UNHCR helped reintegration there. We stopped by the side of the road where about eight children and two women were using a well that had been built by UNHCR in 2000.The amazing thing about this whole area is that in only two years, with the hard work of NGO’s like HALO, UN organizations, and other governments all pitching in to help, as well as the hard work of the local families themselves, they were able to start their lives over. For many of these people it has been 25 years since they have been home. As we walked around, more people, mostly children, came over to us.We drove on then stopped again this time at Trapeang Prasat.This was a temple built at the same time as Angkor Wat. Now it is mostly rubble and all overgrown. Still, incense and candles are burning.Like most Buddhist temples, it was covered in land mines and had just recently been cleared.In this area, only in the last two years has Buddhism been allowed again – only since the land was taken back from Khemer Rouge.During times of Pol Pot they outlawed Buddhism and tried to kill all the monks. I am told only about forty survived, hidden by disguises. Behind the old temple is a newly restored pagoda. On the roof, bright yellow and orange prayer flags fly in the wind.We take off our shoes and make our way up the boards. I ask if they are sure it is okay. "Yes," I am told, "they welcome visitors."I remembered that my feet should not face Buddha. I sat on my knees on a mat, my feet facing the other way. The smell of the incense and the sound of chanting is intoxicating.Young monks, in traditional orange robes, poke their heads out from a back room. They are very sweet.The school near here has 1057 pupils and 27 teachers.Just recently they were clearing mines next to where these children were playing. David points just past where the kids are playing. Only 100 meters down the road is a minefield. Just a fact.Over an hour on the back of bikes, Luong and I ride behind two members of HALO.These roads are closer to the Thai border. They are still very bad. Cars cannot yet make it across.It is so beautiful here. I see so much hope. The children do not look malnourished.I do see amputees along the journey, but they are in makeshift wheelchairs. A man who had lost one leg was riding a bike. His crutch was attached to the front of his bike. He pulled it off to balance himself when he went over a difficult bridge – or what was suppose to be a bridge. Actually, it was sections of a tree chopped and nailed together.I know that is a sad fact of life here, but I am so amazed by the pride and strength of these people.As we continue to ride our bicycles, we pass many men and women watching us from their homes. They are surrounded by their children. They wave or smile at us. Other people, just watch us, but I noticed that every time we wave and smile, they immediately respond in kind.I think some people recognize HALO and know of all the help they have given.Others are simply curious and friendly to a visitor.Every time we pass someone on the road, through the jungle and through the little villages, we make eye contact along with a friendly greeting. It is always returned. Could you imagine if that was our everyday life? Could you imagine acknowledging every individual you pass and smiling at one another? Showing respect to everyone.We had dinner very early, because we had to go to bed at sundown and get up at sunrise.A woman took our order, and then we saw a neighbor chase a skinny chicken and catch it. She went into a side room carrying the bird upside down by its legs in one hand and a small butcher knife in the other. Flies are all over. Drink are warm and there is no ice.We cover ourselves in bug spray and simply continue to brush away the flies as we talk.The floor is dirt. Stray dogs run in and out.A roll of toilet paper is put on the table. I have become used to that for dinner napkins.We have been waiting for food now for about an hour. They had to start from nothing.It is very hot. We are all dripping in sweat.There is a mention at the table "we need to get the hammocks and nets up before it’s pitch black outside."There are no toilets and no electricity as far as I can tell.Before we left I was handed a flashlight with extra batteries.It is dawning on me that I was raised in a city, never went camping, and I may have a difficult night.I am excited by the unknown, but we will be on a wooden pagoda out in the water. What if I have to pee in the middle of the night? |
Day 6 - Saturday July 21stIt’s morning now. The sun is not up yet but light has broken.Putting up our hammocks last night was not easy. We used the front lights of our bicycles and stuck three candles between wooden planks.Luong and I walked to the end of the pier. The planks led to the land. I had the flashlight. She had two handfuls of toilet paper.We were smiling in the dark. You could still hear children playing. We both found spots just off the road about ten feet apart. I turned off the flashlight.While walking back, lightning struck, illuminating the once black sky. In those sudden moments it was like the light of a full moon. You could see everything, and then it was black again. There was no thunder, just sudden flashes.Moments later, a heavy rain began. The guys had to help Luong and I move our hammocks to the other side. The wind was against us. It sounded like the roof was going to come off. The storm happened so suddenly. It was amazing.It was cold and raining all night. This morning it is still raining. There is talk of the roads and the difficulty.I began to think of all the people who live here. Their homes do not seem strong enough to still be standing. The rain must have come through the straw roofs, and the dirt floors must now be mud. I had a mosquito net, a luxury they don’t have, and still I had bites all over.We put on raincoats and are prepared to ride in the rain, but I am told if the bridges are out we may have to try to get a helicopter.The rain never stopped. But we continued on somehow making it through every obstacle.It seemed every five minutes we had to walk the bikes, either because the bridges were all so broken, or because some of the puddles were way too deep. I was leading, so I hit the puddles first. One was so deep the water reached the top of my thighs. At one point, Luong took her shoes off and started looking for frogs. Once again it began to rain. It was hard for me to see with so much water in my eyes. It wasn’t easy wearing contact lenses when water is pouring down my face. I think about if I lived here I wouldn’t have the luxury of contacts, and in this weather, with my glasses on I wouldn’t be able to see a thing. We passed more little shacks on the road. There were little children playing with their dogs and chickens. They are smiling. They are amazing.I saw a woman who was carrying several bundles and beside her was a man on crutches. They both managed to get themselves across the muddy terrain.Someone asks, "Have you checked for leeches?"Luong, who was in sandals but is now barefoot, said she had checked and she was okay. Matthew thought he had one on his neck, but he was okay too. The driver told me to make sure I check my feet when I take my boots off. I have so much respect for these people at HALO. I can’t say enough about them. They have even helped to deliver babies who are being born at home. Very few here, mothers–to–be ever make it to the local clinic in time.It is hard to imagine how awful it must have been here during the war. How did they survive all those years of torment and suffering? About 2 hours on bikes then we were picked up by a Land Rover. Once again, we were all soaking wet. The roads are full of bumps and swerves and tilts. I try to write.I am cold, tired, and wet but I have the luxury of knowing in another hour I will have shelter, towels to dry me off, and food. I am so grateful.Katie, Mimi, Ravut and Mao from UNHCR brought me to see a local hospital run by the Medecins Sans Frontiers (Doctors Without Borders). They first came to this province in 1998(just after Khemer Rouge was defeated) to provide access to health care. They fixed an old hospital that had been deserted.They started to work here even before repatriation, working in certain provincial areas.In 1999 they treated 3,000 malaria patients. Now they have it more under control.Like HALO and others, these people are also trying to train locals. It is very important to teach the locals how to help themselves. As other emergency situations come up around the world, and these organizations have to relocate, they do not leave a country unable to continue the programs. In fact, the opposite happens. They always leave the people more self-sufficient. Some accidents happen when people try to deactivate the landmines themselves, hoping to use the explosives for fishing.These doctors have no real surgical facilities, and the medicine is very minimal. They have to take serious cases to other hospitals, but with roads like today(and the rainy season lasts for many months) it becomes impossible to get people there by road.For lack of resources and finance, air travel, is very rarely available.Sometimes they mention a Thailand hospital, which may be the only other option, but getting there would be very difficult. They talk about HIV and how awareness is new here. Many organizations are distributing condoms and trying to give knowledge.With new focus on AIDS the doctors make a point to tell us that so many people with other illnesses still have yet to be dealt with.Focus will be on AIDS even though there are still a lot of people to care for in this area who have tuberculosis.Inside a hospital(which they call a health center), I saw the little room where emergency surgeries take place. I saw a wooden table with a blue plastic cover.I was told they don’t have blood transfusions.The last major emergency surgery performed here was the amputation of an arm. The patient was only given basic pain relief. We walked around the hospital. I met a little girl who looked to be about four years old. She had a patch over her eye.I saw a little boy who was malnourished. He was brought in because his brother(I think) playfully kicked him out of a hammock. He hurt his hip. Because he was so terribly malnourished, they open and drain his hip. The doctors always try to save whatever few anesthetics they have for the children. "If we have - they always receive them first.All the children here seem so much younger than they are because they are so small. The doctor told me that generations are smaller from not enough nourishment. Also, the height of people depends not only on their parents’ height, but the health of the parents and how they were nourished as children.This is another example of how the war will continue to affect these people for generations to come.A few hours later, we stopped to meet a returnee family. We just picked a home and asked permission to come in. They were very welcoming. They laid down a mat for us.In this little shack lived a mother, father, five children, and a grandmother. One of the children was deaf and dumb.Their tiny house was built on stilts to endure the heavy rainy days. To be above the flooding.The children go to the school that UNHCR built during repatriation.They have a small plot of land where they are growing cashew nuts and rice. The father borrowed a fishing net from a neighbor, but he wasn’t able to fish because of all the flooding. The most amazing feeling I had while sitting with all of them was that it felt like visiting any other family. The difference was that they showed so much more care and affection for each other. Thankfully now with peace their survival concerns are for food and health. They no longer fear the enemy and war causing constant uprooting and running.During the time we spent with them, aunts, uncles, cousins, and neighbors walked in crouching in the corners or pressed against the walls. Everyone was polite. When you catch the eyes of any of them, they smile at you, if only in their eyes.Sometimes when a question was asked, the person stepped forward and sat in the center, then asked their question.We met up with Scott from CARERE to see a school they had built and to meet the community to explain the process. The children were off today. About twenty members of the community all met in a classroom. They spoke about the school’s development and needs. The community is very involved in all stages of development. They are now looking to increase the number of classrooms so more children will be able to attend school. During the meeting, a coconut with a straw was placed in front of each of us.They all thanked us for coming and wished us good health.I feel very fortunate that because of where I live and the job I have, I can help with the schools.The imbalance of funding in the world makes no sense to me. The school director tells me that this school serves two villages totaling 1,290 people. There are 590 children between six and ten years old, but there is only room for 370 students. 220 children are not able to go because there just aren’t enough rooms. In each class there are fifty students and there are only three classrooms. Attendance has to be broken up into different times of the day.Out of the 370 enrolled students only 101 are girls. We are told that with the school so overcrowded, most families keep their girls home to work. Their first priority is to educate their boys.The school has many more needs. It has no latrines and only one well. The well is very old and they worry about it not being safe for the children. 
Day 7 - Sunday July 22ndI just woke up to roosters. It seems the rain has finally stopped. I hope so, because we have a three hour boat ride to Battambang this morning. But if it rains it rains.It is amazing being around these people from HALO and UNHCR. They put up with so much to try to do their jobs, and yet they always talk about the strength of the people here and all that they have to endure to survive. These workers are here to help the refugees overcome such tremendous odds, and when it happens, it must feel so rewarding.Scott, who I met yesterday, has been here twenty years. He works with CARERE. He is married now to a Cambodian woman who works with the government here, for women’s issues. They have three children. Scott is working here to ensure education. He is going to help me to find ways to fund a few needed school buildings. He said he has the greatest job in the world.Not only do these aid workers never complain about the difficulties, but they also say they feel very lucky to be able to help.I must have ten spider bites on the bottoms. I do believe this is what happened to my feet since the swelling has gotten bigger. Not mosquito’s but I am constantly itching. I also have developed a rash on my leg I cannot positively identify.The food has been strange. I never have a feeling of being full. Sometimes parts of the day go on so long, and when we finally get food, it isn’t very much. I also haven’t been sleeping very well. It’s probably because I am always getting so wet from the rain. And yet I have never felt so good in my life. I am so tremendously honored to be with these people. I realize more everyday how fortunate I have been in my life. I hope I never forget and never complain again about anything. But damn - my feet are itchy. The Boat Ride To Battambang We drive up a dirt road through the fishing villages.These people live in such poor conditions, and yet they have such a beautiful spirit. Everyone is working, and there children all seems so happy. Some families live on small house boats, others live in small huts on stilts(for when the water rises). During our boat journey, we pass through villages and see many fishermen.At one point, the boat started speeding. I was sitting on top. The men in front of me told me where to hold on.I continue to grow more and more in love with everyone here. They know something - something we have forgotten. It is a feeling of community. It is a feeling of deeply appreciating their peace and freedom. Off the boat, three hours later, sunburnt and wind swept, we finally arrived. Mao meets us at the boat with the land rover. He had left a day before to arrive in time. We stopped for lunch. After we ordered, the cook told us he had to quickly run to the market because he was out of vegetables. He left us alone and rode off on a bicycle to a nearby market. I don’t know why I think that was so great, but it just was.During lunch I asked Katie how long it took her to learn to speak Khmer (the Cambodian language). She said she had lived here a few years. She listened and she briefly had a teacher. Mostly, she made a great effort. Katie spoke of how important it is to be able to communicate with the people. When you speak their language, you will have a better chance of understanding exactly what they need from us – not just assume.How could we ever pretend to know what is best for a people if we have no clear relationship with them? BATTAMBONG We visit EMERGENCY Italian NGO (non-governmental organization) In today’s conflicts, more than ninety percent of the victims are civilians. Hundreds of thousands of women, children, and unarmed men are killed every year worldwide. Many more are wounded or maimed.EMERGENCY was founded in 1994 in Milan, Italy, to come to the aid of these victims of war. Highly qualified medical and technical personnel, with extensive experience of emergency situations, joined together to guarantee medical and surgical assistance and rehabilitation in the areas of conflict.This hospital is used for civilian war casualties and the treatment and rehabilitation of landmine victims.They also have a school for children.They had two in Afghanistan, but one was already closed by the Taliban.In the children’s classroom they have pictures on the walls that they all drew. The drawings are of flowers, butterflies, and two self-portraits of kids in wheelchairs. EMERGENCY LIFE SUPPORT FOR CIVILIAN WAR VICTIM They have(and always need) a stock of blood. The room is cold. The blood is kept in the refrigerator.Marco was the name of the emergency doctor who was showing me around the hospital "Are you squeamish?" No.He took me into Intensive Care.All I want to say is thank God this hospital and these doctors are here.I met several landmine victims.One man was gardening with a hoe and a landmine exploded in his face. He lost an eye and he has slight brain damage. For the past two months they have been fixing his jaw. He is so happy to be able to eat normally and talk again. Another man looked like he was sleeping, but they explained, he was in a coma. He has a bullet in his head.One of the local staff, a pregnant woman, was shot and killed. Her husband also worked in the hospital. He was the first to see her when she was brought in all shot up. She later died of blood lossThere are so many amputees here.A man from a landmine advisory group is here looking into revision of amputations. Young amputees have to be checked regularly. Because they keep growing, complications continue to occur.Later on, they took me to the women and children’s ward.One little boy was riding with his father in a cart when they ran over an anti tank mine. His father was killed. He came here with many serious fractures and blood loss. EMERGENCY found his mother and hired her as a nurse.I met a man named Buu Chorm. We showed each other our tattoos and shared their meaning. His are for good fortune and protection. Because he had lost one leg, he joked, saying "maybe I should have had more tattoos."I asked a few doctors what is it they are most in need of. I continued to hear the same answer. They need new roads to the hospital. There are many organizations that are trying to help, but it costs more than a million dollars a kilometer to lay a two lane asphalt road.Earlier this morning I was complaining about my feet itching. This afternoon I met a man who lost his leg. He greeted me with a smile and was joking with his doctor. He found the energy to be a gracious host to us visitors.SAMLOT We drive to the office where we will stay the next few weeks. UNHCR was so helpful here during repatriation, but now that these people are no longer refugees there is no main office here. We are using a room at ACTION NOR SUD Action Nord Sud started an education program in Samlot district in September 1999. This program is funded by UNHCR. In this newly-liberated district, there was no education infrastructure, nor trained teachers. Thus, the priorities defined by ANS for its program were school construction and teacher training. The program has been designed in close collaboration with the Ministry of Education. One agreement has been signed at national and provincial levels, and the activities are implemented together with the staff of the Education Department of the province and of the district. A very sweet man with a wooden foot greeted us and showed us to our rooms. He walked with a limp. The size of his new wooden foot seemed too small and it was very simply made. He helped us to a room with three fold-out beds. Mosquito nets were set up by nailing them to the walls.The small bathroom had a large pot with a small tin bowl in it - for an "elephant bath." |
Day 8 - Monday July 23rdRice is made with more water for breakfast.It is about 7 AM. We woke up to roosters and very hot sun. As I write this, Mimi and Ravut are picking fruit from a tree. They have to jump up to get it.We head out to visit Samlot EMERGENCY health center first thing in the morning.This center was built in 1999. War in this area had just ended.There were hundreds of mines in this area in 1999. Many people died because of landmines.Ten more health centers were built in 2001.They still don’t have enough to take care of a big emergency. They have to try to get the victims out to Battambang, but the roads are almost impossible to drive. Sometimes the roads go out.Every month about 1500 people in Samlot come in with malaria.The head of the EMERGENCY staff told me, "We can only give them so much - sometimes only our hearts."I visited a malaria ward and a tuberculosis ward. During the conflict people were not getting polio vaccinations. Finally, vaccines have become available, and children have been coming to the health center to receive them.We are driving to our next meeting. This is the first time I noticed signs along the road. They say, DANGER – MINES, with a skull and crossbones.So much of the land has still not been cleared.We are warned, "Always stay on the tracks or follow someone’s footpath. It is not a good idea to be wandering around even if there are no signs up."The Ottawa Convention is the international treaty banning landmines. December 3rd, 2000 was the third anniversary of the signing of the treat. Since 1997 it has been signed by over 135 nations. The United States still refuses to join the treaty. 1997 Mine Ban Treaty – NON SIGNATORIES This is the list of countries that have not signed the 1997 Mine Ban Treaty as of 29 May 2001Afghanistan,Armenia,Azerbaijan,Bahrain,Belarus,Bhutan,Central African Republic,China,Comoros,Cuba,D.R.Congo,Egypt,Estonia,Finland,Georgia,India,Iran,Iraq,Israel,Kazakhstan, Kuwait,Kyrgyzstan,Laos,Latvia,Lebanon,Libya,Micronesia,Mongolia,Morocco,Myanmar, Nepal,Nigeria,North Korea,Oman,Pakistan,Palau,Papua New Guinea,Russia,Saudi Arabia, Singapore,Somalia,South Korea,Sri Lanka,Syria,Tonga,Turkey,Tuvalu,United Arab Emirates, United States of America,Uzbekistan,Vietnam,Yugoslavia. Every 22 minutes, somewhere in the world, a person is killed or maimed by a landmine. We visit an Animation Center Here they focus on children having gone through war and conflict. They emphasize the importance of playtime. They not only focus on beginning education skills for little ones but also on sports and dance.We spent time with the children. Mao and Ravut played soccer. Katie and I built a house with pieces of wood. We raced with another little boy who was building his own house. We lost."The Winner"Some of the children have light hair – a sign of malnutrition.One little boy with a clubbed foot was playing with an old soccer ball.The only toys I saw were pieces of wood and two old soccer balls, and yet, they all seem so very grateful to have them to play with.Some children were wearing UNHCR backpacks that were distributed over a year ago. I think they play with them on because they want to always keep their things with them. The probably fear losing all they have again.As I am writing this I am surrounded by about fifteen little kids. They are curiously watching me write. They are all smiling and giggling. Are they looking at my light skin color, my tattoos, my clean white t-shirt, my light eyes? Maybe they are starting and smiling at me because I am left-handed? In the end, I think they are just being playful with me because I am a new visitor and they are normal curious children.We drove into another village and I met locals from Samlot government health service.They were trained by EMERGENCY to give vaccinations.For lunch we had rice, meat, and strange looking fruit with red and green stems.Mimi is feeling sick. I fell asleep for a few minutes and I don’t feel so well myself.Anytime someone is sick here people go through a list of questions about symptoms; I guess checking for malaria or anything else that might be serious. For me, I think I am just tired. I am not used to the long working days here, which of course makes me respect all of these people that much more.We meet up with Sarath the director of Cambodian Vision in Development (CVD). They provide Aid to the most vulnerable returned refugees and internally displaced persons. They are working to help these people to help themselves.I saw a blind man with only one arm. He was gardening. He motioned to his home. Another man walked up and helped to guide him. This man had both of his arms missing, but he could see. The two men were working together. The disabled and other "vulnerables" help each other work together to compensate.The man with no arms had six children depending on him to provide for them. He speaks of how little rice he is able to plant. His face is so sweet.When he re-entered this land after being a refugee, for over 8 years in Thailand, he tried to start over, to build a place for his family. As he was clearing a plot of land, a landmine exploded.A very little dirty boy with big brown eyes holds on his father’s shoulders. His father leans in and smiles.Only three of his children can go to school now. He can’t afford to send them all. It costs 1,500(Cambodian) a month per child, which is the equivalent in American money to be thirty cents.He continues to speak, I continue to write. I have started to focus on my notebook because I am very close to crying. I don’t want him to feel I pity him or to feel embarrassed by his situation or condition.He smiles at me and says good-bye. He speaks. It is translated to me. "I don’t speak so clearly now. Worry makes your mind weak."At our second stop, a man with no legs is out in front working in the field. He takes his hat off and greets us with a smile. He uses an ox cart to get to work. He has no wife and no children. I ask if he has children. He points to the lower part of his body. Cut in half literally. He smiles as if to say it’s alright. Don’t feel bad for asking.We walked further on to the field. We met a blind man with arms cut off just past his elbows. He uses his feet to try to clear the land. His wife has mental problems as well, and when she left him, she took the baby. She left him with five other children.Volunteers have to help him to cook for his family.He uses his mouth to fish whenever he can. The will of these people to survive is amazing to me. This man also has a small child with him. The boy looks about five years old, but we are told he is nine. He can’t go to school. He is his father’s eyes.In this area, there are 800 cases very similar to this man, most all are landmine victims. I feel so much hate for anyone(a person or a government) who is trying to stop the ban on landmines.We get back in the car to move on to the next area. Ravut asks if the area they are clearing in their backyards has been cleared of mines yet. They answer "No," but they are considered safe because none have exploded yet.Most people will read that and say why can’t they clear it and why are they living there? They have no choice.The war was everywhere and every single area could not be cleared in time. There were not enough funds and not enough time.More importantly, this must not happen again. The use and manufacturing of landmines should be banned. I hope when people read this they will want to help.I was told of another vulnerable case – a man with no legs who had two daughters. We could not visit them because the roads were so bad from the rain. And the rainy season has just begun. These people have to pray that no emergency happens. They would have no ability to go for help.Someone asked one of the men in our car, "Were you a refugee?" He smiled, "Yes." In this group he knows he can be proud and is respected. He told us he was in a camp from 1989 to 1992. He was in a camp in Thailand – Site 2.Ravut said he was also in Site 2. So was Mao. About 120,000 people were there. Site 2 was the name given to this refugee camp by the UN border relief organization. This refugee camp had the largest population of Cambodian people outside Phnom Penh. People took refuge in these camps during the reign of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge. The camp covered less than 4 square miles and an estimated 700,000 Cambodians resided here. Site 2 was the most severely crowded camp in all of Thailand.6 pm We visit nightschool classes in the area.ACTION NORD SUD provides literacy classes for adults in the early evening. We visited one. We are guided by Anne, a French woman. She runs this NGO. They have twenty-six teachers and schools.UNESCO(United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization)Did a survey and developed a curriculum.UNICEF(United Nations Children’s Fund) Has helped with training, making, and distributing manuals.Anne said the teachers are mostly women. The classes are at night. Mothers take their children to class. The children all hover around them.Tonight they are being taught to read, and what they are reading is also information to teach them. They repeat after the teacher their own language. A culture through so much. Amazing they held on and continue to teach.It is explained to me that they are learning about natural medicine and how it is better than chemical medicine. For dinner we had rice, meat, and bananas. The men spoke a little about their "Pol Pot Time" during 1975 to 1979.While living in the camps they learned English and studied grammar. They were even able to explain to me the difference of "How much?" and "How many?" I was never very good in grammar. How perfect they would be my teachers.Ravut shared the story of meeting his wife. They were married in a camp. She is working now for The American Embassy. They have two children ten and five years old. I suddenly noticed the sky. The stars here are so clear and bright. The moon is a crescent but not straight up and down. It is almost on it’s back 
Day 9 - Tuesday July 24thIt is 7 AM now. We have all been up for a while. There is something amazing about getting up first thing in the morning to witness a new day begin.We have just had breakfast. I was very hungry. We had Nescafe, rice, and dried meat and fish. It tasted like oily beef and fish jerky.I write that not because I am not grateful, but because I think it says something about these amazing field officers. They are living in these areas for months at a time. They live without so many comforts of home – one of those being a strong shower. I took another "elephant bath" this morning. I still can’t manage to pour the water over myself right and I don’t want to waste the water. Yesterday I was about to throw ice out of my glass and Ravut stopped me. "Ice is very expensive here. You should give it back to the kitchen."The first thing we did today was visit a school. When refugees were repatriated there were no teachers or schools. For many years these people got very little or no education.They began training teachers immediately so they could start educating as soon as possible. ANS (ACTION NORD SUD) and UNHCR(UNITED NATIONS HIGH COMMISSIONER FOR REFUGEES) had to press the government to recognize these teachers in training as certified teachers. These men and women have much less education than teachers in other areas, but they have been recognized and they will start to be paid. A very low salary but it’s something. In this school the children are six or seven years old. It makes me miss home and Billy’s boys. Children are the same all around the world. Beautiful.It’s wonderful to see them learning here especially their own language and their own culture.One of the teachers we saw today with a classroom full of kids we also saw last night teaching adults.A teacher shouted something in Khmer and all the children in the three rooms ran out smiling and giggling.They all line up. They are about to start morning exercises.Ravut, Mimi, Mao, Ann from ANS, and Sarath from CVD (Cambodian Vision in Development) all line up beside the children.As the exercises start, the children are very organized and disciplined.Our line is all over the place – turning the wrong way and swinging our arms into each other. Most of the kids laugh at us. Some children are shy and watch us with curious eyes. Their heads are down – hiding smiles(maybe). I can’t tell.Their eyes looked happy.It was beautiful to see them so happy. Most photos of these children in the past years have been so sad and awful. We always see them crying and hungry with very little hope in their eyes.This morning I played with these kids surrounded by lush green trees and beautiful blue sky, and a school built and run by people who care so much about them. It feels like Heaven.A little boy’s hair blows in the wind. He looks up squinting. The sun is in his eyes. He catches my eyes and hides behind a friend. He peeks out. I can’t stop smiling. We have to now make circles. The children start to sing. I can’t understand what they are saying, but it sounds so sweet.Later, it is explained to me they are singing, "The land is beautiful. Take care of it. It is good to us. But it is not safe. Be careful of dangerous landmines. If we see one, don’t touch it."We go into another area where music is playing. It is an outdoor dance class. The children were all wearing flip flops. Some of them were only about three inches long. After a little while of playing with them, the children began to stand closer to us. They seemed less shy. They even seemed to feel safe. When we got back to the car, we listened to Billy’s 60’s songs. Suddenly we heard a strange squeaking noise. Is a bird in the car? Is a dog trapped? Shit, did we hit a dog?I suddenly hear Billy’s voice very low remembering we recorded our puppies barking. We rewind and play it back. You can hear us trying to get the puppies to make noise. We sound funnier than the dogs. Everyone laughs with us – a universal laugh – couples all around the world are silly together. At the second school, children are sitting in the classrooms. You can hear them as we drive up repeating after their teacher. We notice a teacher who is an amputee. He has only one leg and walks with a crutch as he writes on the chalkboard. I am told 29 of 69 of the teachers are disabled. Everyone is so happy though to have school after all they have been through.Someone tells me in Samlot there are about 100 cases of landmines.Another teacher walks up to us slowly. She is smiling. She hands Ann a paper. I notice one foot is in a sandal. Her other foot is wooden. There are so many amputee cases and so many landmine victims it starts to feel normal. It is just a common fact of life here.The paper was a request for a small room of books. There are so few manuals and no libraries. In one room they are using cut up bundles of plants to learn to count.I see one of the teachers walks back to his classroom. It seems his prosthetic leg is giving him a discomfort. Can you imagine standing and teaching all day, and sometimes also at night, walking around on a prosthetic leg?I am hot and uncomfortable and I have only been out a few hours.These teachers walk miles to get to the school. The roads are very bad. There is also very limited health care. It is especially difficult and expensive to get a new limb. They also must be changed every few years. Even if they are badly fitted and crudely carved out of wood, they are still a luxury. In other areas, like Phnom Penh, the services are better but it is never easy or fair to have a life like this. These people have been suffering for so long Tuesday We drive about eight hours back to Battambong. BATTAMBONG Tuesday Night Mimi and I met Bishop Enrique Figaredo sj(a Jesuit priest). Everyone calls him Father Kike (pronounced Quique). He is the bishop of Battambang.He was in camps in 1984 helping Cambodian refugees in Thailand. He came to Cambodia in 1988.He works mostly with landmine victims, but he also helps with polio victims.He is very kind and charming.Father Kike is wearing a blue checkered short sleeve shirt with a peace dove sewn on his pocket. He pointed proudly to the little dove. "Little girl sewed this on for me."His function in the camps was to help organize programs for the disabled. He kept teaching them skills for when they would go back, but he jokes how years kept passing. Finally, ten years later they have four or five skills.We all met in a little restaurant. They served ice cream. It was very exciting.Father Kike and I both had chocolate chip ice cream.Very soon he is going to Nicaragua to be a part of a meeting of those who signed the treaty to ban landmines.He mentions how I could go to EMERGENCY and see what is happening. Everyday they care for landmine victims. He said, "Good things happen in the middle of terrible places."He told me about a little girl who lost her leg while helping her father farm.When Father Kike spoke of this girl(in his Spanish accent), he said, "is so terrible, is to cry."Father Kike, Mimi, and I talk about his learning he had become a bishop. He said, "I got a call from Rome and I thought maybe I got in trouble or something."He said, "I believe life is not just inside the Church. God is in everything,everywhere."He admits, "I like dancing - a lot. I bring traditional Cambodian dancing into Church."Father Kike is a wonderful priest. He is very modest when asked about his life Father Kike mentions a man we should meet. "He can not speak English, but you can see what he is doing. You see his family, his life. He feels with his heart, that is best. Do everything with your heart."He doesn’t push his religion. He believes the people of Cambodia have beautiful faith.In May of 1975, the Cambodian bishop Tep Im Sotha was assassinated along with Fr Jean Badre, a Benedictine monk from Kep. Between 1975 and 1979, the Khmer reign set out to destroy every church building, expel missionaries, murder Cambodian priests, bishops, and men and women who held religious beliefs. In 1984 another archbishop was killed. He was afraid when he was appointed.He thought he would surely be killed.Father Kike speaks of a literacy teacher who has no arms below his elbows. He crosses and connects his upper arm limbs and writes with chalk.Father Kike smiles proudly at this man and says "Amazing. The people are so very gentle here. It is so easy to love them."I can also see how all the people here love Father Kike. They also know they don’t have to be Catholics to come to his church for assistance.Mimi and I are in a hotel tonight. We head back to our rooms. Signs in the Hotel NO GUNS,NO DURIAN(A strong cheesy smelling fruit) We went to a market earlier today to buy durian. Mao, Ravut, Marie–Noëlle and I sat on little plastic stools. Mao tried it, and like most Cambodians, he loved it. He said it was creamy. I wondered how he could tell if it was ripe.Tonight, back in the hotel, as we walked up the stairs to our rooms, the hallway smelled of durian. Someone had snuck some in. We started laughing. |
Day 10 - Wednesday July 25thNo phone in the hotel, but the cell phones are working. We are finally getting a signal. I try to talk to Billy but he is not home.We had some Quick Coffee. All the milk is condensed like sweet syrup. I think I’m beginning to like it.We are off to the airport for an 8:30 plane to Phnom Penh.Our first meeting is with Scott and Joanne with CARERE.They had put together a program for the building of new schools.I then met with the Minister of Education and the Deputy Prime Minister. He’s grateful to the UN and all NGOs, but they stresses the importance of everyone working together. The focus must be on equal education opportunities for rich and poor girls and boys.So much needs to be done. They will need as much help as they can get from the international community.We visited the Veterans International Rehabilitation Centre(since 1991).VVAF(Vietnam Veterans of America Foundation) is where Luong is the spokesperson for the Campaign for a Landmine Free World. She met us at the door and introduced us to Larry. He is American but lives here and runs this center. He has two beautiful adopted Cambodian children; a girl and a younger boy who sat in on our meeting. VVAF Bobby Muller established Vietnam Veterans of America in 1978 as a membership organization to work for the recognition of the rights of Vietnam veterans. Muller established VVAF in 1980 to work on the broader issues surrounding conflict.Beginning in Cambodia in 1991, Campaign for a Landmine Free World has provided physical rehabilitation services to the innocent victims of war in post-conflict societies around the world. FACTS - 64,000 Vietnam vets were killed by landmines during Vietnam.- The U.S. State Department estimates that there are 60-70 million landmines in the ground worldwide and third of the world’s nations are mined.- To harm civilians, combatants often place landmines on the side of roads, near schools and in agricultural fields.The goal of the rehabilitation center:"TO GIVE TO THOSE WHO SURVIVE THE WAR – A CHANCE TO SURVIVE THE PEACE"Kent Wiedemann, the U.S. Ambassador for Cambodia, joined us this afternoon at the rehabilitation clinic. He told me, that the U.S. military is now being trained to help victims of trauma.Teams of six or seven doctors and nurses are here visiting to learn.They speak in abbreviated terms:BK means below the knee AK means above the knee Larry says, "his son is a BK." I then realize the little boy is wearing two sneakers with one foot made of wood.There is a small factory at the center that manufactures and fits prosthesis limbs. BKs cost $150, and AKs cost about $200.Hand hooks and wooden hands are given to arm amputees. I saw men with new fitting legs practicing kicking a soccer ball back and forth.A three year old lost her leg from infection. As long as her bones keep growing, she will have to be checked on a regular basis to have her prosthesis leg replaced to fit her new growth.I met two blind landmine victims who work at the center helping to build the prosthesis limbs and also putting the spokes on wheels for wheelchairs.The wheelchairs are given out free of charge.There are also baby walkers for small amputees.WFP (World Food Program) helps by giving food. They have an outreach program in the field everyday.They always need roads repaired and ramps built. The U.S. spends three million dollars a year to fund HALO, MAG, and CMAC. They spend one million a year on rehabilitation projects.Cambodia is one of the ten poorest countries in the world. In Asia, it has the highest infant mortality death from AIDS.I believe the U.S. Ambassador cares deeply for all the people here. He desperately wants to continue to help eliminatepoverty.Later that afternoon, Ravut, Mao, Mimi and I visited "Tuul Sleng" the Genocide Museum. In the past it was a school. Pol Pot transformed it into a prison and called it "5-21." It is the former Khmer Rouge 5-21 prison. Several thousand victims were here. I saw a picture of Pol Pot(next to a picture of monks in front of a wall of skulls).The picture of Pol Pot was black and white. I could see he was giving orders – and knowing what those type of orders were – The image made me sick. A monk walks beside us.I was shown graves of fourteen people who were killed just before the Khmer Rouge left. Only a few hours later they might have survived.The cells are open to walk through. They have not been changed. In each one of the cells there is a picture of the person who was tortured. The picture is exactly of the room when the soldiers found them. What it looked like the day it was discovered. Throughout the prison there are so many pictures to see and records available to read. It is horrible what happened here. As I continue to write this I think, what am I doing? How can I be standing here? I can’t breathe. I want to stop writing. I don’t believe in ghosts but – I can’t describe the pictures and the cells. I don’t know what to say.Suddenly, amidst all of this horror, I smell incense. I am told the monks are praying. We continue to walk through the cells. I saw how people were chained to their beds. The clamps are still on the old metal frames. I asked, "How did they go to the bathroom?" I was told, "Just there on themselves."I know what this feeling is now – I realize it is fear. I am scared here.I enter another room filled with I.D. photos that were taken away from the people before they were tortured and killed.Ravut said, "I don’t want to see too much more. I am afraid to see my father’s picture. I am not sure which place they took him to kill him,but I have a feeling it was very near here."All the faces in these photographs are scared and very tired. I saw some pictures taken from the side of their faces. I asked, "What is that attached to their head?" Ravut tells me, "It is a drill. They would slowly drill into your head until they killed you."There are so many faces of young and old men and women and so many children, even babies.There are pictures of the instruments and the ways people were tortured, and there are walls of pictures of the dead after being killed by these devices. It is very clear in each picture exactly how they died.I am told fifteen minutes from here are "The Killing Fields."There is a half statue of Pol Pot with a black X. The black X is sprayed over a Cambodian word. Ravut told me it means "BRAVO"; obviously a statue Pol Pot had made for himself.Barbed wire covers the balcony intended to prevent desperate people from committing suicide.The cells have brick and cement walls. They were built to break up a once larger room into three feet by seven feet cells. They are all dusty and crude. Blood stains still cover all the walls.I keep thinking about how I want to get out of here.I was taken to another room which had picturesof Pol Pot, his family and his troops. I won’t look at him. I walked away.Ravut showed me on maps where Pol Pot started his genocide and where he moved to from year to year.I was shown a photo of the man who was the famous Cambodian singer, who Ravut said was like our Elvis, but Pol Pot had him killed.There is a case full of signs describing the pictures of the instruments of torture. We all stood in front of it, in silence, for what seemed to be a very long time.I saw photos of babies being ripped away from their mothers. I saw photos of mothers being killed as they held their babies in their laps. In one photo a mother still had the drill in her head and her baby in her lap.On one wall there is a map of Cambodia made out of skulls.I read pages and pages of human destruction.There was a picture on the wall of babies being thrown up in the air and then caught by being stabbed and killed with the blade of a bayonet.I saw pictures of men holding babies upside down by their legs and squashing their little heads against a tree.I have to get out of here. I have to step outside. I can’t breathe. Wednesday Night Marie-Noëlle and I mentioned to Ravut and Mao that we would love to meet their families. We had heard so much about them. We were invited to dinner at Ravut’s home. He has a beautiful family – a lovely wife and two girls ages six and eleven. Mao is also with us. He came with his sweet wife and their three children, ages three, one and a half, and an adorable seven month old baby boy. I am honored to know these people. I hope one day, after many visits, we will become closer friends. I do feel I can say we already are friends, sharing and laughing. Ravut has many books in his house: Law, History, a French and English dictionary, etc. Many of these he studied while he was a refugee in the camps.The women also work. It seems everyone at the table works with an NGO or a government office. They are all amazing women and they are much more knowledgeable about many more things than I am. I wonder what they would have been able to do with the education and opportunities I was offered. They wouldn’t have wasted a moment. They explained how expensive air conditioning is so we use fans. The lights went out for a short while so we used candles.It was a beautiful evening.We were all very quiet at first, but it didn’t take us long before we were falling off our chair laughing.The kids were so happy all playing together. I felt so grateful to be able to be here. 
Day 11 - Thursday July 26thSo many nightmares last night. Hardly slept. We visited JRS (The Jesuit Refugee Service)When we stepped out of the car we were greeted by a young girl named Song Kosal with only one leg. She handed me a package with a wooden bird of peace key chain.She lost her leg when she was five years old. She was looking for firewood with her mother.Tun Channareth also greeted us with a big smile. He is in a wheelchair. His friend, who is almost always with him, has a crutch. He has one leg. They joke, "We get around with one leg between us."Most handicapped people work withothers who are handicapped. It gives inspiration.The priests and nuns at JRS do everything they can from taking kids to the hospital to making the mosquito nets. They also analyze the data to evaluate the overall progress of The Landmine Ban Treaty. There are many beautiful pictures on the walls here – pictures depicting humanity, compassion, and prayerful mediation. Most of the volunteers here are non-religious. Everyone who works here at The Jesuit Relief Service is kind, warm, and very humble. We drove to Banteay Prieb Rehabilitation Centre, one of the JRS’s main areas of work.We visit The Centre of the Dove, a learning place for men and women disabled by landmines, war, and polio.It used to be an army communication center.There are many workshops here. They make eighty wheelchairs per month. A man with no legs is on the table making parts.The need for wheelchairs is so great. They can’t ever seem to make enough. The next workshop is a sewing school. I met two women with big wooden looms working hard at making scarves. Two other women are busy at their sewing machines making backs for wheelchairs.A Spanish priest joined us and told us jokes and a story about one of the students here as being a terrible math student. He thought an average size window was 125 meters wide. Now he is one of the best social workers here. He is often the one who rushes to the hospital driving new victims of landmines.There are seventeen students in the wood sculpture class. They are making so many beautiful pieces. They are learning a trade so in the future they can make a living.One student is making a wooden chalice for Bishop Kike to hold the Holy Communion wafers.Next to her, a few other sweet men and women are making wooden Buddha statues. Their tools are very basic for sculpturing. Their workmanship is amazing. There are handicap ramps leading to all the buildings here. Other workshops here include an electronics class, and agriculture class, and a welding class where people learn to make hospital bed frames.There are also classes where one can learn regular education – the basics like reading and writing and math.The Centre of the Dove is truly an amazing place. I don’t know what all these people would do without it.All the programs are focused on giving disabled handicapped people a real future.I have just learned that this land belongs to the government and The Centre of the Dove is given a set time to be here. Next year the government can demand a lot of money and these programs will start to suffer Dinner with UNHCR staff During this trip I was asked to be the Goodwill Ambassador for UNHCR. I can't express how happy and honored I was. The UNHCR field officers then told me, "We are so happy to be the first to congratulate you on your appointment as Goodwill Ambassador to UNHCR. Remember we are in 140 countries. You have family now wherever you go." What a beautiful thought. Wouldn't it be amazing if that's the way the world was.Leaving Cambodia and saying good-bye is not going to be easy for me. These are such good, warm, hard-working people. I will miss everyone I have met here. I am now on my way to Bangkok where I will spend the night at an airport hotel. Then early the following moment I return to Los Angeles. |
| Day 12 - Friday July 27th I woke up shaking and sweating after having a reoccurring nightmare – the same one I had in Phnom Penh. I know what it is now: I am remembering what I saw at the Genocide Museum. I woke up so scared and uncomfortable I couldn’t breathe, just like I couldn’t breathe in those cells. Marie-Noëlle told me she had the same feeling when we were there. We continue to be haunted by one afternoon in that prison.There are so many Cambodians over a certain age who still remember everything. I don't know how they live on. But they do, with so much strength of will and power and spirit. They are an example to us all. |