Om Po and I: sharing laughter while recalling my childhood's trial and tribulation. |
The house where I used to live in. |
The site where my father was cremated in the compound of Wat Ponlear Chey. |
Pu Phy, The man whose oxen I looked after during the Khmer Rouge's era. |
The temple of Wat Ponlear Chey. |
One of the Best Moments in My Life
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Story by Chanda Chhay
Originally posted at http://cambodianchildren.blogspot.com/
After 33 years, I have finally had an opportunity to revisit Phum Ponlear Chey again, a place where my family was exiled during the Khmer Rouge’s era. I spent about 3 years living in Ponlear Chey during my early teen. For those of you who have read my book: War and Genocide, Ponlear Chey was one of the places which held many secrets in my life. Anyway, I just wanted to share with you what it was like to return to visit a place where the Khmer Rouge’s reign of terror made a lasting impact in my memory.
My visit to Ponlear Chey was unplanned. While on my way to Siem Reap, I made an impromptu decision to visit Phum Ponlear Chey, which is located about 5 kilometers north of National Highway 6 in Staung District, K. Thom Province. My initial intention was to just drive through the village and return to Highway 6 to continue on my journey to Siem Reap. However, after reaching Wat Ponlear Chey, a place where my father was cremated in 1977, I decided to go visit his cremating site to pay respect to his spirit. It was a somber place. The site where my father was cremated remains almost exactly the same as it was 33 years ago. While I was wandering around the pagoda’s compound, an elderly man came up to me and called out my older brother’s name. Because I look similar to my older brother, the old man mistook me as him. So I introduced myself and inquired about his identity. The old man’s name was Phy, and it turned out that I used to look after his oxen, Ah Popeal and Ah Kaek, during my stay in Ponlear Chey. I spent about half an hour talking with Pu Phy, making some inquiries about my childhood friends. To my absolute surprise, I learned that Om Po, the host whose house we lived in during our sojourn in Ponlear Chey, was still alive. So I asked Pu Phy to take me to visit with Om Po.