HAPPY: Cambodian refugee Sam Put with his partner Nicky and daughter Madison. (WARWICK SMITH/The Manawatu Standard)31/10/2009
Manawatu Standard (New Zealand)
War, extreme poverty and starvation are not issues Manawatu residents face every day, but for migrants and refugees, these problems have often been part of life. Adjusting to a new homeland may not be easy, but when JONATHON HOWE spoke to 29-year-old Cambodian refugee Sam Put, he discovered that success in the face of adversity was possible.
Sam Put was just one week old when his mother carried him, his brother and a bag of rice across Cambodia's killing fields and into Thailand.
His parents were fleeing from Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge regime, which killed more than one million Cambodians between 1975 and 1979. "My parents had to flee," Sam says. "If they'd stayed, they would have been shot or abducted to work in rice fields.
"Pol Pot's regime, they don't want anyone that could think, because they don't want leaders, they want followers."
The 14-day trek to the Thai border was a dangerous journey over mountains and across rivers. Sam's parents endured many horrors on that journey. They lost a daughter to starvation, they saw the dead and disfigured bodies of men, women and children on the side of the road, they saw babies abandoned because their cries would alert soldiers. Sam's cries led to his family being ostracised by a larger group, but his mother would not abandon him.
"She got pushed aside from the group that was leading the way," he says. "At that time, if a soldier hear you, they will pretty much kill you, and you can't tell a baby to sshh."
Sam's family was placed in the Khao-I-Dang refugee camp with tens of thousands of asylum seekers. He spent his first nine years in Khao-I-Dang, a nightmare place filled with death, violence and sexual abuse.
"For me, seeing people die of starvation felt like it was natural because I grew up with it."
He remembers soldiers raiding the camp looking for women and children to rape. "It would happen about once a week. About 10 or 20 soldiers would come in. We always kept everything packed in case we had to run.
"Looking back now, I don't know how so many people survived in that camp for such a long time."
But Sam learnt to adapt, spending most of his time looking for food and attending lessons given by elders.
Sometimes he would escape from the camp and go fishing at a nearby river, a perilous task because Khmer Rouge boats patrolled the waters.
"One night when we went we saw one guy who was caught and got decapitated.
"Although his death distressed me, we continued to fish there. It was that or my family would have starved."
Every year his family prayed they would be chosen for resettlement. Sam compares the selection process to a lottery that his family lost for eight years.
"It's just a list and if your name comes up, you get to go. If it doesn't, then you just stay there," he says. "We were there for nine years, so you can just think the amount of time we'd just wait around to go every year, hoping, hoping, hoping to go."
People were reluctant to take in big families, so Sam's parents put him and his brother forward as a separate family.
In 1989, Sam and his brother hit the jackpot and were headed for New Zealand.
Today, Sam is a polite, cheerful and confident 29-year-old family man. He works in business banking at the Bank of New Zealand and is a semester away from finishing a Bachelor of Education degree, majoring in secondary school physical education, at Massey University.
He also coaches the Takaro International soccer team, attends St Matthew's Church and plays a leading role in the Manawatu Cambodian Association. He recently celebrated the arrival of his first child, Madison Grace Put, with his Kiwi fiancee, Nicola.
His achievements have even caught the attention of staff at Wellington's Te Papa museum. Sam will feature in an exhibition called The Mixing Room: Stories from Young Refugees in New Zealand, opening in April next year, which will tell the settlement stories of refugees aged between 12 and 29 who act as leaders and mentors in their communities.
But Sam wasn't always happy. On arrival in Palmerston North, he felt trapped by his poor English, his loneliness and his lack of independence.
Sam and his brother were placed with a Cambodian family who, although kind, were no substitute for parents.
"A month felt like a decade without a family," he says.
"When I left the camp, I didn't realise that I was going so far away. I thought I could see my mum and dad whenever I wanted."
Sam's lack of English meant he needed help with basic tasks like buying books or ordering food.
"I just felt I was dumb and isolated and a burden on people.
"I felt it was harder to cope than when I was in the refugee camp, because I didn't know how to relate to this place."
Sam was most afraid of school, where he could not hide his lack of English. Some children ridiculed him for being different, and he was subjected to racism.
"I was being laughed at because I didn't really know what I was doing there," he says.
"There were names like black spot because I was real black, dumb a.... One kid called me alien, because the things I was doing were quite strange.
"In the camp, we would hunt sparrow. I did that at school and I got told off because it wasn't the norm, but for me I thought it was normal, because in the refugee camp we hunt sparrow all the time."
He also felt awed by the abundance of food and comfortable lifestyle in Palmerston North.
"I'd never seen a telly, so when I first saw a telly, I cried because I thought, `Why are these little people stuck in this TV'?"
It was a huge moment when Sam's parents came to Palmerston North about a year after he arrived.
"I can never repay what my parents done for me and that's why, in a way, I wanted to help bring them to New Zealand, because without them I wouldn't be here today."
But the problems did not stop. The feelings of isolation remained and at his lowest point he contemplated suicide.
"You've just got to be strong.
"Because of my language barrier, it was hard for me to speak it out. It's hard to tell people what was wrong if you find it hard to communicate."
Sam worked hard at his English, and when he left high school, things began to improve. He credits the turnaround to three things: tertiary study, sport and church.
He completed a sports science and coaching diploma at Universal College of Learning and started to coach the multicultural Massey International soccer side, which later became Takaro International.
"I just slowly started to become confident in who I am, to grow up and be a man and take responsibility."
Making Kiwi friends was vital for integrating into New Zealand society, he says.
"Rather than just hanging with my own people, I learnt to branch out. To me, it was getting both cultures and bringing them together to adapt."
Sam now helps other Palmerston North refugees in his roles on the Manawatu Cambodian Association and Ethnic Forum. His most recent project was organising last weekend's Cambodian Soccer tournament in Palmerston North.
"There is hope for migrants or refugees if they learn to adapt and, as a community. We try to provide them with the correct network and just promote the awareness of different people.
"They will be able to achieve what I have achieved. It's going to be hard at first, but there is light at the end of the tunnel."
Sam Put was just one week old when his mother carried him, his brother and a bag of rice across Cambodia's killing fields and into Thailand.
His parents were fleeing from Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge regime, which killed more than one million Cambodians between 1975 and 1979. "My parents had to flee," Sam says. "If they'd stayed, they would have been shot or abducted to work in rice fields.
"Pol Pot's regime, they don't want anyone that could think, because they don't want leaders, they want followers."
The 14-day trek to the Thai border was a dangerous journey over mountains and across rivers. Sam's parents endured many horrors on that journey. They lost a daughter to starvation, they saw the dead and disfigured bodies of men, women and children on the side of the road, they saw babies abandoned because their cries would alert soldiers. Sam's cries led to his family being ostracised by a larger group, but his mother would not abandon him.
"She got pushed aside from the group that was leading the way," he says. "At that time, if a soldier hear you, they will pretty much kill you, and you can't tell a baby to sshh."
Sam's family was placed in the Khao-I-Dang refugee camp with tens of thousands of asylum seekers. He spent his first nine years in Khao-I-Dang, a nightmare place filled with death, violence and sexual abuse.
"For me, seeing people die of starvation felt like it was natural because I grew up with it."
He remembers soldiers raiding the camp looking for women and children to rape. "It would happen about once a week. About 10 or 20 soldiers would come in. We always kept everything packed in case we had to run.
"Looking back now, I don't know how so many people survived in that camp for such a long time."
But Sam learnt to adapt, spending most of his time looking for food and attending lessons given by elders.
Sometimes he would escape from the camp and go fishing at a nearby river, a perilous task because Khmer Rouge boats patrolled the waters.
"One night when we went we saw one guy who was caught and got decapitated.
"Although his death distressed me, we continued to fish there. It was that or my family would have starved."
Every year his family prayed they would be chosen for resettlement. Sam compares the selection process to a lottery that his family lost for eight years.
"It's just a list and if your name comes up, you get to go. If it doesn't, then you just stay there," he says. "We were there for nine years, so you can just think the amount of time we'd just wait around to go every year, hoping, hoping, hoping to go."
People were reluctant to take in big families, so Sam's parents put him and his brother forward as a separate family.
In 1989, Sam and his brother hit the jackpot and were headed for New Zealand.
Today, Sam is a polite, cheerful and confident 29-year-old family man. He works in business banking at the Bank of New Zealand and is a semester away from finishing a Bachelor of Education degree, majoring in secondary school physical education, at Massey University.
He also coaches the Takaro International soccer team, attends St Matthew's Church and plays a leading role in the Manawatu Cambodian Association. He recently celebrated the arrival of his first child, Madison Grace Put, with his Kiwi fiancee, Nicola.
His achievements have even caught the attention of staff at Wellington's Te Papa museum. Sam will feature in an exhibition called The Mixing Room: Stories from Young Refugees in New Zealand, opening in April next year, which will tell the settlement stories of refugees aged between 12 and 29 who act as leaders and mentors in their communities.
But Sam wasn't always happy. On arrival in Palmerston North, he felt trapped by his poor English, his loneliness and his lack of independence.
Sam and his brother were placed with a Cambodian family who, although kind, were no substitute for parents.
"A month felt like a decade without a family," he says.
"When I left the camp, I didn't realise that I was going so far away. I thought I could see my mum and dad whenever I wanted."
Sam's lack of English meant he needed help with basic tasks like buying books or ordering food.
"I just felt I was dumb and isolated and a burden on people.
"I felt it was harder to cope than when I was in the refugee camp, because I didn't know how to relate to this place."
Sam was most afraid of school, where he could not hide his lack of English. Some children ridiculed him for being different, and he was subjected to racism.
"I was being laughed at because I didn't really know what I was doing there," he says.
"There were names like black spot because I was real black, dumb a.... One kid called me alien, because the things I was doing were quite strange.
"In the camp, we would hunt sparrow. I did that at school and I got told off because it wasn't the norm, but for me I thought it was normal, because in the refugee camp we hunt sparrow all the time."
He also felt awed by the abundance of food and comfortable lifestyle in Palmerston North.
"I'd never seen a telly, so when I first saw a telly, I cried because I thought, `Why are these little people stuck in this TV'?"
It was a huge moment when Sam's parents came to Palmerston North about a year after he arrived.
"I can never repay what my parents done for me and that's why, in a way, I wanted to help bring them to New Zealand, because without them I wouldn't be here today."
But the problems did not stop. The feelings of isolation remained and at his lowest point he contemplated suicide.
"You've just got to be strong.
"Because of my language barrier, it was hard for me to speak it out. It's hard to tell people what was wrong if you find it hard to communicate."
Sam worked hard at his English, and when he left high school, things began to improve. He credits the turnaround to three things: tertiary study, sport and church.
He completed a sports science and coaching diploma at Universal College of Learning and started to coach the multicultural Massey International soccer side, which later became Takaro International.
"I just slowly started to become confident in who I am, to grow up and be a man and take responsibility."
Making Kiwi friends was vital for integrating into New Zealand society, he says.
"Rather than just hanging with my own people, I learnt to branch out. To me, it was getting both cultures and bringing them together to adapt."
Sam now helps other Palmerston North refugees in his roles on the Manawatu Cambodian Association and Ethnic Forum. His most recent project was organising last weekend's Cambodian Soccer tournament in Palmerston North.
"There is hope for migrants or refugees if they learn to adapt and, as a community. We try to provide them with the correct network and just promote the awareness of different people.
"They will be able to achieve what I have achieved. It's going to be hard at first, but there is light at the end of the tunnel."
10 comments:
the same govermentr ecently
your story is no different from mind. I escaped the brutality and my life has never been the same again. leaving our home land in search of safe heaven but no where to be found. Living abroad also faces with new challenges e.g. feeling like a black sheep among the majority of others but you have to learn to accept and adapt to 'the way it is' and thing like this needs to be told to all nations to avoid such war from ever happen again, the impacts of life is so great and no one deserved to go through. So, Khmer gov't needs to find solution for peace so that our people can have a good life like every other nation has enjoyed so far. I'm far far away from home.
Dear Sam,
I'm so glad that you found happiness. Good Luck & best wishes!
Khmer in US
Sam, more than three millions Cambodians Victim was been killed are not more than one millions Cambodian Victim was been killed,and all the killing field not Cambodian kill Camb odian own peoples, all the killing field from 1975 to 1979 during Khmer Rough / Pol Pot regime under A Vampire Yuonese / Vietnamese hidden faces behind the killing field as one of my cousin was been told our family before he dies as he is A Vampire Yuonese / Vietnamese secret / spy agent. but our young Khmer does't know about this story and believing that Cambodian kill there own peoples, Sam, if you want to know more about the Cambodian story please contact me follow the address: Cambodian Victim, POST OFFICE BOX-178, SPRINGVALE VICTORIA MELBOURNE AUSTRALIA.
I am glad you work hard to find sucess and happiness in your life. Your baby is a cutie.
mreas prov
White girl looks retarded...? what's a pencil dick and retarded couple...
That is one ugly white woman.
12:44 PM & 11:00 PM
We're not surpised to see such comments from featherbrained fools from both of you, because the world is no shortage of immaturity and stupidity like the two of you. Both of you should find every reason to be abashed of yourselves. On a lighter note, spudity and immaturity do not come with age.
Unemployed worker Phnom Penh
12:44 PM & 11:00 PM
you're fucking cold and coward bastard heartless assholes.
The two negative comments are those people are retard and urgly themselves. What is a more-on people?
I read your story, Sam. I'm on the same boat like you. I immigrated to the US since 1981 without speaking any English, but I never felt a shame or want to die like you. I only tried my best to improve my life and my education. I never abandon my religion like you or other Khmer people. Some Khmer people convert themselves to Christian and they don't pray or eat the food that we celebrate. They tried to be 100% Christian and pay 15% of their salary to church. Before they eat, they pray for their god. But, these people are traitors to their ancestors. I never accept these kind of people and they won't convince me to change my buddhim to Christian. They 're so stupid people who abandon their own religion. If they come to my house and pray before eating, I ignore them. I won't pray with them; I eat before they do.
Or some khmer who married the white folk, they tend to be allegant. They think they marry to beautiful white guy or white girl, but I never care. Don't try to show off your superiority to your own Khmer people.
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