Author’s Notes: For those who are interested in reading the story in its entirety, this manuscript will be published into a book soon. I will make an announcement in KI-Media when the book comes out.
Thank you.
The End of a Beginning
The next morning, I woke up to the tumultuous sounds of gun shots and chaotic noises. There was a commotion of panic and emergency everywhere. I heard people scream and yell in every direction in the neighborhood. Some people told their children to pack up their clothes and blankets while others asked their neighbors what the hell was going on. Nobody seemed to know for sure what the hell was going on, but one thing everyone knew for sure was that the Khmer Rouge had just come into town, and that those sounds of gun shots were either a salute to victory or an act of intimidation.
Still harboring a thought of going to see and welcome the Khmer Rouge, I walked into the living room with little concern about what was or would be happening. As I entered the living room, I saw my mother and brothers busily packing up clothes, foods, and utensils. My mom told me to go hurriedly brush my teeth, take a quick bath, and put on good comfortable clothes because we might have to evacuate the city pretty soon. At first, I was a little skeptical about leaving the city; but, after seeing most people in the neighborhood packing up, I became convinced that the situation was indeed serious. Thus, I went to the bathroom, quickly doing what I was told to do, and returned to the living room to help my brothers pack up stuffs. Minutes later, a man, who at the time shared the apartment with us, returned from investigating what was going on in the streets outside and told us that the Khmer Rouge were about to evacuate all the people from the city. He then hurriedly went up to his quarter to collect his wife and children.
Soon after the man went up to his apartment, my brother, Heang, a college student and part-time government auxiliary soldier arrived after spending the night guarding his post on the western edge of the city. Heang seemed a bit nervous and worrisome-an unusual sign for a brave young man whose elegant bravado was going off to work with a rifle strapped behind his back. In addition, he appeared to be psychologically terrified as if he had just seen a ghost.
Seeing that my brother, Heang, must have gone through a terrifying experience, both of my parents went up to him to find out what had gone wrong. My brother said that he had encountered a group of Khmer Rouge soldiers last night as they tried to enter the city before they were allowed to do so. When he and his comrades denied them permission to enter the city, the Khmer Rouge became angry and threatened to rope everyone (the Khmer Rouge don’t use handcuffs) as soon as they got their way in. So, without taking any chance, Heang and his comrades secretly abandoned their post before sun rise, turned their gun in at a designated area, and went their separate ways through the back streets to avoid being spotted by their commander or the Khmer Rouge because uniform soldiers or officers were supposed to stay at their stations or cantonment areas. Heang also said that, along the way home, he saw some Khmer Rouges carrying microphones announcing that people must evacuate the city immediately. Sensing that things might not change as smooth as everyone expected, my parents told my brother, Heang, to take off his uniforms and put on civilian clothes as a precaution.
The Khmer Rouge’s harsh treatment and apathetic attitude toward the people whom they forced evacuated from the city seemed to take everyone by surprise, for no one had anticipated or foreseen them to be that cruel and ruthless, especially toward civilians. But, as reality began to unfold, we gradually realized that the Khmer Rouge had little or no regard for our calamity. To them, we were no more than a conquered population who was to be subjected to harsh treatment. Every time we met them, we saw a familiar stern, stoic, and indifferent look on their faces-a kind of chilling reception normally issued by one mortal enemy to another. As we walked pass the Khmer Rouge soldiers who sometimes stood on the sides of the road, I couldn’t help but noticing their facial expressions. They were cold, reserved, and resentful. They were also full of hatred.
After spending a whole tumultuous day walking chaotically in a crowded street, we came upon an open area on the outskirt of the city where the Khmer Rouge had set up a checkpoint. We were told, as we approached the checkpoint, to turn in any electronic and communication devices such as radios, cameras, and wrist watches to the soldiers who manned the checkpoint, as we were not allowed to have them in our possession. When my parents told them that we did not have any electronic devices in our possession, two of the Khmer Rouge soldiers came to inspect our bags. They poked their hands into our bulky bags which were filled with blankets and mosquito nets. After seeing that we hadn’t got anything they were looking for, the two soldiers let us continue on our journey. We passed the Khmer Rouge checkpoint just before sun set. Exhausted and disoriented, my parents and some of our neighbors who had traveled along with us decided to look for a suitable place to rest and spend the night. We stopped near a tiny township which was located along a little dry canal known as Prek Doeum Chan. There was a small abandoned marketplace nearby which was burned down and riddled with bullet marks. The town itself was partly deserted because, during the war, soldiers from both sides used the canal as a bumper zone which, in effect, turned the town into a no man’s land.
We found a lodging place under the shade of a tree. After setting up a temporary make-shift shelter, we settled down around a dim candle light to eat our pre-cooked dinner which my mom had prepared in the morning before we left our home. It was our first dinner in the Khmer Rouge’s liberated post-war Cambodia. The evening was filled with silence and sadness. Although there were many other families settling along side with us, we hardly heard anyone say anything to disquiet the eerie atmosphere. Even little children stopped crying, too, as if they knew that their daily routines were undergoing a traumatic transformation. As darkness befell upon us, we built a small fire near our shelter to keep wild creatures such as snakes and scorpions away from our camping ground. We lay down around the tree trunk and went to sleep under the bright blue sky which was filled with millions of stars and a crescent moon.
Angkar’s Viney
Angkar’s Viney or the Organization’s rules (in short, the Khmer Rouge’s rules), were absolute, and they were not something to be questioned. As we soon learned, those who disobeyed or committed infractions against the Khmer Rouge’s rules would usually pay with their lives. So, we began to take great care regarding our daily conducts in order to avoid being seen as not obeying the organization’s rules. One dilemma for us and the rest of the evacuees was that those rules were not written. They were what local Khmer Rouge’s cadres and villagers told us. So, we had to follow whatever directions the local Khmer Rouge’s cadres and villagers ordered us to do.
One of the first steps we took to comply with the Khmer Rouge’s rules was to transform ourselves to become farmers, as the new society envisioned by the Khmer Rouge was supposed to be classless. Unlike industrialized countries, Cambodia’s economy was largely based on agriculture; therefore, the so-called proletarian class in Cambodia composed mostly of farmers and peasants. Hence, joining the ranks of farmers and peasants would be a good first step in integrating into and becoming members of the Khmer Rouge’s classless society. At first, we were rather confused on what the term classless meant. But, we soon realized that by classless, the Khmer Rouge meant that people were no longer allowed to have options in making their own decisions regarding matters concerning their lives. Everything would be decided upon by the organization or Angkar, the almighty monster representing the collective Khmer Rouge’s leadership from village’s chiefs to head of state.
As we transformed ourselves to become members of a classless society, one of the most vivid and everlasting memories was following the Khmer Rouge’s dress code: Black. To adhere to the spirit of a classless society, the Khmer Rouge made everyone dress in black uniform. There was no exception to the rule. Also, no fashionable clothes were allowed. Every black uniform had to be modeled after peasant’s pajama garbs. So, in a frenzy bit to rid ourselves of the outlawed clothes, we pulled out every piece of our clothes and tried to figure out how to make them comply with the Khmer Rouge’s uniform regulation. As city dwellers, we didn’t usually wear black clothes. So, most of our clothes were in various colors. At the same time, we couldn’t find black clothes to replace them either as the Khmer Rouge had already abolished money and market.
While we were pondering on how to find solution to our predicament, Om Voan broached us with an idea that we could dye our clothes black by using a tree fruits called makloeur which, to our relief, were found in abandon in Prek Rumdeng. One of the makloeur trees even grew amid other fruit trees in Om Voan’s garden. So, my older brothers went up its branches and collected enough of its fruits to dye our clothes black. Thanks to the magic power of makloeur’s fruits, once we soaked our clothes in their crush-up solution, they all turned black. Our clothes were transformed, and so were we, reluctantly!
Thank you.
The End of a Beginning
The next morning, I woke up to the tumultuous sounds of gun shots and chaotic noises. There was a commotion of panic and emergency everywhere. I heard people scream and yell in every direction in the neighborhood. Some people told their children to pack up their clothes and blankets while others asked their neighbors what the hell was going on. Nobody seemed to know for sure what the hell was going on, but one thing everyone knew for sure was that the Khmer Rouge had just come into town, and that those sounds of gun shots were either a salute to victory or an act of intimidation.
Still harboring a thought of going to see and welcome the Khmer Rouge, I walked into the living room with little concern about what was or would be happening. As I entered the living room, I saw my mother and brothers busily packing up clothes, foods, and utensils. My mom told me to go hurriedly brush my teeth, take a quick bath, and put on good comfortable clothes because we might have to evacuate the city pretty soon. At first, I was a little skeptical about leaving the city; but, after seeing most people in the neighborhood packing up, I became convinced that the situation was indeed serious. Thus, I went to the bathroom, quickly doing what I was told to do, and returned to the living room to help my brothers pack up stuffs. Minutes later, a man, who at the time shared the apartment with us, returned from investigating what was going on in the streets outside and told us that the Khmer Rouge were about to evacuate all the people from the city. He then hurriedly went up to his quarter to collect his wife and children.
Soon after the man went up to his apartment, my brother, Heang, a college student and part-time government auxiliary soldier arrived after spending the night guarding his post on the western edge of the city. Heang seemed a bit nervous and worrisome-an unusual sign for a brave young man whose elegant bravado was going off to work with a rifle strapped behind his back. In addition, he appeared to be psychologically terrified as if he had just seen a ghost.
Seeing that my brother, Heang, must have gone through a terrifying experience, both of my parents went up to him to find out what had gone wrong. My brother said that he had encountered a group of Khmer Rouge soldiers last night as they tried to enter the city before they were allowed to do so. When he and his comrades denied them permission to enter the city, the Khmer Rouge became angry and threatened to rope everyone (the Khmer Rouge don’t use handcuffs) as soon as they got their way in. So, without taking any chance, Heang and his comrades secretly abandoned their post before sun rise, turned their gun in at a designated area, and went their separate ways through the back streets to avoid being spotted by their commander or the Khmer Rouge because uniform soldiers or officers were supposed to stay at their stations or cantonment areas. Heang also said that, along the way home, he saw some Khmer Rouges carrying microphones announcing that people must evacuate the city immediately. Sensing that things might not change as smooth as everyone expected, my parents told my brother, Heang, to take off his uniforms and put on civilian clothes as a precaution.
***********
The Khmer Rouge’s harsh treatment and apathetic attitude toward the people whom they forced evacuated from the city seemed to take everyone by surprise, for no one had anticipated or foreseen them to be that cruel and ruthless, especially toward civilians. But, as reality began to unfold, we gradually realized that the Khmer Rouge had little or no regard for our calamity. To them, we were no more than a conquered population who was to be subjected to harsh treatment. Every time we met them, we saw a familiar stern, stoic, and indifferent look on their faces-a kind of chilling reception normally issued by one mortal enemy to another. As we walked pass the Khmer Rouge soldiers who sometimes stood on the sides of the road, I couldn’t help but noticing their facial expressions. They were cold, reserved, and resentful. They were also full of hatred.
After spending a whole tumultuous day walking chaotically in a crowded street, we came upon an open area on the outskirt of the city where the Khmer Rouge had set up a checkpoint. We were told, as we approached the checkpoint, to turn in any electronic and communication devices such as radios, cameras, and wrist watches to the soldiers who manned the checkpoint, as we were not allowed to have them in our possession. When my parents told them that we did not have any electronic devices in our possession, two of the Khmer Rouge soldiers came to inspect our bags. They poked their hands into our bulky bags which were filled with blankets and mosquito nets. After seeing that we hadn’t got anything they were looking for, the two soldiers let us continue on our journey. We passed the Khmer Rouge checkpoint just before sun set. Exhausted and disoriented, my parents and some of our neighbors who had traveled along with us decided to look for a suitable place to rest and spend the night. We stopped near a tiny township which was located along a little dry canal known as Prek Doeum Chan. There was a small abandoned marketplace nearby which was burned down and riddled with bullet marks. The town itself was partly deserted because, during the war, soldiers from both sides used the canal as a bumper zone which, in effect, turned the town into a no man’s land.
We found a lodging place under the shade of a tree. After setting up a temporary make-shift shelter, we settled down around a dim candle light to eat our pre-cooked dinner which my mom had prepared in the morning before we left our home. It was our first dinner in the Khmer Rouge’s liberated post-war Cambodia. The evening was filled with silence and sadness. Although there were many other families settling along side with us, we hardly heard anyone say anything to disquiet the eerie atmosphere. Even little children stopped crying, too, as if they knew that their daily routines were undergoing a traumatic transformation. As darkness befell upon us, we built a small fire near our shelter to keep wild creatures such as snakes and scorpions away from our camping ground. We lay down around the tree trunk and went to sleep under the bright blue sky which was filled with millions of stars and a crescent moon.
**********
Angkar’s Viney
Angkar’s Viney or the Organization’s rules (in short, the Khmer Rouge’s rules), were absolute, and they were not something to be questioned. As we soon learned, those who disobeyed or committed infractions against the Khmer Rouge’s rules would usually pay with their lives. So, we began to take great care regarding our daily conducts in order to avoid being seen as not obeying the organization’s rules. One dilemma for us and the rest of the evacuees was that those rules were not written. They were what local Khmer Rouge’s cadres and villagers told us. So, we had to follow whatever directions the local Khmer Rouge’s cadres and villagers ordered us to do.
One of the first steps we took to comply with the Khmer Rouge’s rules was to transform ourselves to become farmers, as the new society envisioned by the Khmer Rouge was supposed to be classless. Unlike industrialized countries, Cambodia’s economy was largely based on agriculture; therefore, the so-called proletarian class in Cambodia composed mostly of farmers and peasants. Hence, joining the ranks of farmers and peasants would be a good first step in integrating into and becoming members of the Khmer Rouge’s classless society. At first, we were rather confused on what the term classless meant. But, we soon realized that by classless, the Khmer Rouge meant that people were no longer allowed to have options in making their own decisions regarding matters concerning their lives. Everything would be decided upon by the organization or Angkar, the almighty monster representing the collective Khmer Rouge’s leadership from village’s chiefs to head of state.
As we transformed ourselves to become members of a classless society, one of the most vivid and everlasting memories was following the Khmer Rouge’s dress code: Black. To adhere to the spirit of a classless society, the Khmer Rouge made everyone dress in black uniform. There was no exception to the rule. Also, no fashionable clothes were allowed. Every black uniform had to be modeled after peasant’s pajama garbs. So, in a frenzy bit to rid ourselves of the outlawed clothes, we pulled out every piece of our clothes and tried to figure out how to make them comply with the Khmer Rouge’s uniform regulation. As city dwellers, we didn’t usually wear black clothes. So, most of our clothes were in various colors. At the same time, we couldn’t find black clothes to replace them either as the Khmer Rouge had already abolished money and market.
While we were pondering on how to find solution to our predicament, Om Voan broached us with an idea that we could dye our clothes black by using a tree fruits called makloeur which, to our relief, were found in abandon in Prek Rumdeng. One of the makloeur trees even grew amid other fruit trees in Om Voan’s garden. So, my older brothers went up its branches and collected enough of its fruits to dye our clothes black. Thanks to the magic power of makloeur’s fruits, once we soaked our clothes in their crush-up solution, they all turned black. Our clothes were transformed, and so were we, reluctantly!
1 comment:
WE NEVER MADE IT BACK...
Via from Peking, China had broadcasted on April 17, 1975. Hurry, Hurry, Hurry! You all have to gathered as groups, we all must leave this town for about 3 days. American going to bomb us, once those bomb are ceased we all will be back soon.
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