Photo by Brant Ward, SFGateSunday, December 2, 2007
San Francisco Gate (Calif., USA)
THE BADGE
In mid-November, a 36-year-old San Francisco police officer stepped off an airplane in his native Cambodia. He was instantly struck by the heat and humidity. And then he saw him. His father. A little old man he barely remembered.
He had dreamed of this moment for years. He had put it off and toyed with the idea of going to meet this stranger whose DNA he shared, until, finally, he could deny the moment no longer.
Nearly 30 years after running from the murderous Khmer Rouge government, Sophal Roger Chea returned to his roots.
"I choked up," said the 36-year-old. "It was pretty emotional."
They hugged and they talked. And Chea spent two weeks getting to know his father, his family and his native culture.
It was the end of a long and winding journey for Chea.
He was born in 1971; the Khmer Rouge took over the country in 1975 and remained in power until 1979. His father was a soldier for the previous government and, as such, was arrested and held for a couple of months. He was one of the lucky ones. Millions of people died of torture, execution or starvation in those years.
Chea doesn't remember his father, well, from that time. He remembers the bodies. They were everywhere: cadavers stacked up on roadsides, bones and skulls littering the fields.
"Death was everywhere," he said this week in an interview at SFPD's Central Station.
He remembers the fear. He remembers taking some fruit to the hospital where his father - who had fallen ill - was held. A Khmer Rouge soldier wearing black pajamas pointed an AK-47 rifle at him, took his food and threw it on the floor.
Chea was 7.
"It was very intimidating," he said.
Members of Chea's family eventually escaped to Thailand, traveling by foot and bus to Bangkok, and later immigrated to San Francisco. There, they lived in the heart of the Tenderloin. The flashing neon light of a massage parlor illuminated the small apartment.
When he was 18, Chea made a painful discovery: The people he knew as his mother and father were, in fact, his aunt and uncle.
It turned out his father had a wife from before he met Chea's mother, who was the daughter of a Cambodian army general. His father's wife was Vietnamese, and he had gone to Vietnam to be with her. Chea's mother went to Vietnam to reclaim Chea's father, only to be turned away. She disappeared on her way back to Cambodia.
Upon learning the truth, Chea said he was angry and confused. He asked his parents why they never told him that they were really his aunt and uncle. They said they never knew what to say; they didn't know how he would respond.
"A lot of things were going through my head at the time, but I got over it," he said. "I even love my parents now more than ever."
Chea lived a rough life in San Francisco. After years in the Tenderloin, his family moved to the projects in Potrero Hill. Their car was stolen, house broken into and once two men burst in and stole their stereo and TV in a home-invasion robbery.
Chea lay on the living room floor, pretending to be asleep, as the men pointed guns at his father. He remembers looking out the window to see the men laughing as they ran down the street with the Chea family belongings.
But that kind of life makes you tough, too. Not long after Chea moved out of the house, he was taking his mother's old car out and two men tried to carjack it. One man stuck a pistol to his neck, but instead of giving up the keys, Chea fought back. He was pistol-whipped and lost a lot of blood, but he didn't lose the car.
Chea eventually joined the SFPD and has worked at several stations. He now works a patrol car out of Central Station, just down the street from the squalid apartments he lived in as a kid. Occasionally, he gets called to translate for Cambodian immigrants.
Along the way, he made telephone contact with his father, and they kept in touch over the years. Chea got married and had two children of his own.
Fatherhood got him thinking about family, and what he left behind in Southeast Asia. Finally, after years of thinking about it, he bought a ticket to Phnom Penh for a two-week visit with his father, and to play tourist.
It did not go the way he had imagined it.
His stepmother asked for money. His half brother asked for money. His father asked him to sponsor his half brother to immigrate to the United States.
Once, Chea and his father were in a shop, and Chea wanted to buy a bottle of water. There was some discussion about the purchase or the price, and the shop owner said, to the father, something like "Let him buy the water and help me out." His father replied in Cambodian, perhaps forgetting that Chea also spoke the language: "He isn't helping me."
"That really kind of bothered me," Chea said. "I felt like there was nothing there for me, like they only wanted something from me."
The trip made Chea wonder what his life would have been like if he had stayed in Cambodia. He would probably be living with or near his father's family, but he would have been "second family," not from his father's legal wife.
In the end, despite all the hardships, the move to San Francisco, the years in the Tenderloin and wondering why his father left him, Chea came to some realizations. That family is important, but it's not always about who gave birth to whom. And just because two people share the same DNA, they need not share the same values. He also discovered the truth in the old saying, "You can't go home again."
And maybe that's a good thing.
Reporter John Koopman and photographer Brant Ward are focusing on the San Francisco Police Department. Their stories appear weekly in the Monday paper. To see more photos and an audio slide show with this story, go to sfgate.com/thebadge.
E-mail John Koopman at jkoopman@sfchronicle.com
He had dreamed of this moment for years. He had put it off and toyed with the idea of going to meet this stranger whose DNA he shared, until, finally, he could deny the moment no longer.
Nearly 30 years after running from the murderous Khmer Rouge government, Sophal Roger Chea returned to his roots.
"I choked up," said the 36-year-old. "It was pretty emotional."
They hugged and they talked. And Chea spent two weeks getting to know his father, his family and his native culture.
It was the end of a long and winding journey for Chea.
He was born in 1971; the Khmer Rouge took over the country in 1975 and remained in power until 1979. His father was a soldier for the previous government and, as such, was arrested and held for a couple of months. He was one of the lucky ones. Millions of people died of torture, execution or starvation in those years.
Chea doesn't remember his father, well, from that time. He remembers the bodies. They were everywhere: cadavers stacked up on roadsides, bones and skulls littering the fields.
"Death was everywhere," he said this week in an interview at SFPD's Central Station.
He remembers the fear. He remembers taking some fruit to the hospital where his father - who had fallen ill - was held. A Khmer Rouge soldier wearing black pajamas pointed an AK-47 rifle at him, took his food and threw it on the floor.
Chea was 7.
"It was very intimidating," he said.
Members of Chea's family eventually escaped to Thailand, traveling by foot and bus to Bangkok, and later immigrated to San Francisco. There, they lived in the heart of the Tenderloin. The flashing neon light of a massage parlor illuminated the small apartment.
When he was 18, Chea made a painful discovery: The people he knew as his mother and father were, in fact, his aunt and uncle.
It turned out his father had a wife from before he met Chea's mother, who was the daughter of a Cambodian army general. His father's wife was Vietnamese, and he had gone to Vietnam to be with her. Chea's mother went to Vietnam to reclaim Chea's father, only to be turned away. She disappeared on her way back to Cambodia.
Upon learning the truth, Chea said he was angry and confused. He asked his parents why they never told him that they were really his aunt and uncle. They said they never knew what to say; they didn't know how he would respond.
"A lot of things were going through my head at the time, but I got over it," he said. "I even love my parents now more than ever."
Chea lived a rough life in San Francisco. After years in the Tenderloin, his family moved to the projects in Potrero Hill. Their car was stolen, house broken into and once two men burst in and stole their stereo and TV in a home-invasion robbery.
Chea lay on the living room floor, pretending to be asleep, as the men pointed guns at his father. He remembers looking out the window to see the men laughing as they ran down the street with the Chea family belongings.
But that kind of life makes you tough, too. Not long after Chea moved out of the house, he was taking his mother's old car out and two men tried to carjack it. One man stuck a pistol to his neck, but instead of giving up the keys, Chea fought back. He was pistol-whipped and lost a lot of blood, but he didn't lose the car.
Chea eventually joined the SFPD and has worked at several stations. He now works a patrol car out of Central Station, just down the street from the squalid apartments he lived in as a kid. Occasionally, he gets called to translate for Cambodian immigrants.
Along the way, he made telephone contact with his father, and they kept in touch over the years. Chea got married and had two children of his own.
Fatherhood got him thinking about family, and what he left behind in Southeast Asia. Finally, after years of thinking about it, he bought a ticket to Phnom Penh for a two-week visit with his father, and to play tourist.
It did not go the way he had imagined it.
His stepmother asked for money. His half brother asked for money. His father asked him to sponsor his half brother to immigrate to the United States.
Once, Chea and his father were in a shop, and Chea wanted to buy a bottle of water. There was some discussion about the purchase or the price, and the shop owner said, to the father, something like "Let him buy the water and help me out." His father replied in Cambodian, perhaps forgetting that Chea also spoke the language: "He isn't helping me."
"That really kind of bothered me," Chea said. "I felt like there was nothing there for me, like they only wanted something from me."
The trip made Chea wonder what his life would have been like if he had stayed in Cambodia. He would probably be living with or near his father's family, but he would have been "second family," not from his father's legal wife.
In the end, despite all the hardships, the move to San Francisco, the years in the Tenderloin and wondering why his father left him, Chea came to some realizations. That family is important, but it's not always about who gave birth to whom. And just because two people share the same DNA, they need not share the same values. He also discovered the truth in the old saying, "You can't go home again."
And maybe that's a good thing.
Reporter John Koopman and photographer Brant Ward are focusing on the San Francisco Police Department. Their stories appear weekly in the Monday paper. To see more photos and an audio slide show with this story, go to sfgate.com/thebadge.
E-mail John Koopman at jkoopman@sfchronicle.com
11 comments:
Chea,
You said like you have never known about Cambodia. Your police career is not suitable for you at all for not comprehending affair outside US.
However, you are lucky to see your father, but the poor always require you like that. You should keep patient and regard your father as your hero.
good wish for you, Chea
KY
you don't expect too much from a local cop.
Chea,
be patient!!
I know you have been busy with your duty and have not had times to explore your native home, Cambodia, before your trip. That is why you seem to shock by your experience of your first trip Cambodia.
Your native home, Cambodia, has plenty to offer you. it is rich in culture, temples, tourist sites and natural resource. Please take your time to get to know your native home, Cambodia, more. I am sure you will love it as your adopted one.
regarding your family, they think you are able to help them, that is why they ask. if you are unable to, be nice and be frank to them; hopefully, they will understand.
There are plenty of people who have no one to call "Dad", but you. Congratulation!!
I am always respect oneself choice including yours. To be honest with you, I am a bit disappointed with the way you think about Cambodia. It is regretful that you seem not to know much things about your native country. I urge you to reconsider it again and spend some time to get to know Cambodia and especially your own father. You may find out that you could always go and enjoy Cambodia.
Good luck to you!!!
Dear Chea,
We know exactly how you feel. Sometimes our real parents aren't always trying or having the ability to make themself significant in our lives, but please don't think bad and don't abondance Cambodia. Your father is just another human soul that perhaps didn't have enough wisdom or ability to care for his children. You can say that he was selfish and could only care for himself at the time and he probably already knew that he was. Let him be, love and care for him anyway. Give him some money, if you have. Give him some attention, if you like. Please don't make it too hard on yourself and if you don't have it, just say no and don't give any. Everybody have to make it somehow and he'll just have to do his best on his own. Life is too short. Smile and be happy! Take care of your self, go home everyday and love your family.
P.S
There are babies left at The Market's door steps in baskets to die under dangerous weather from time to time. May be, the mother/father was cold heart and may be she/ he was not . May be the mother/father was desperated and may be she/he was not but please know that was the best choise she/ he made for those babies at the time and may be she/ he was hopeful that someone else can do a better job than they do. To our surprise discovery, most were! Most babies ended up in a loving home of someone else. You certainly was. God bless your aunt & uncle and God bless you! Please come back to Cambodia someday!!!
Ordinary Khmers
All the comments above,
The father and his second wife should respect him also. He came to visit his father who abandoned him for a long time to marry the second wife and did not raise him at all. How come the father has the gut to ask for help and his family asked for money. Do they think to be police officer make big money?
Don't ask people for money when you just met them. Be nice and helpful to the person whom you want to ask for help first. I don't blame him and Cambodia has nothing to see anyway. Every provinces are all the same and nothing develop that attract tourists to see. Only corruption and land grabbing occurs everyday for you to see.
Don't tell me there're plenty to see. At least he's better police officer to protect the people not robbing the people like Cambodia police.
Chea,
I plan to visit Cambodia next year. it gonna be fun. I will every tourist sites there. I will go to Angkor Wat, Ban Lun...
Cambodia has plenty to offer national and international tourists.
when tourist go to srok youn, tourists are robbed and ripoff. all you can see in srok youn is the crowd ed people on the street and everywhere.
Oh Damn, who let Ah Khmer-Yuon criminals running loose all over Vietnam? They should be on their leashes 24/7.
Erjjjjjjjjjjj Ah 12:46 dom-bao YiekCong Sa"oyyyyyyyyyy ahhahhahh. Ah Lop merl men jear ah YeakCong Kondouy sah'oyyyy niss veuy.... Ah Plee Pler come here ah bol bye. I want to penis whip your mouth and face right now ah DomBao YiekCong Sa'Oyyyyyyyyyy. Hhahha. Kone Me LamTruyet jomtet Kdet doj chkae niss veuy...Du Ma Cong Cak Ah Plee Pler 12:46 hhahaha..
Chea's police officer career is definitely suited for him. I have to disagree with KY. What does knowledge of affairs outside the U.S. have to do with police officer suitability? I know Chea and he has the characteristics that make a perfect fit to be an officer: a mild mannered temperament, involvement and a drive to help the community, has no signs of prejudice towards any group, and loves what he does.
With any wave of people that emigrate from their country, it's a given that the culture of the motherland will diminish as time goes on and from one generation to the next. Chea has a full life in terms of his career and family. He is a great husband to his wife and father to his children working hard to provide for them and spend time with them while maintaining a physically and emotionally demanding job. Cambodia will forever be his roots regardless of his knowledge of the country's culture, current events, etc. or number of visits back to the motherland. Chea has made something of himself despite adversity and will never forget where he came from. He is an honest and humble person with good intentions and is giving back to his community. If the people in Cambodia were to come to the U.S. and see the work Chea does as well as the kind of person he is, they would be proud. Although thousands of miles apart, he still represents his people...as a Cambodian American.
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