Friday, Jan 05, 2007Paromita Pain
The Hindu (India)
From the killing fields of Cambodia to the living world of the arts... the heart-wrenching story of a child soldier's coming of age.
He was only nine when he started running, but Arn Chon Pond's moves were no child's play. When the Khmer Rouge took over Cambodia, it meant running for his life. A victim of the ghastly killing fields of Cambodia that took an estimated two million lives, music kept Pond alive. Today, as the founder of the Cambodian Living Arts, a project of World Education, formerly known as the Cambodian Master Performers Programme, Pond is working to save once outlawed traditional music from extinction and harness the power of music to help rehabilitate conflict-afflicted children and youth globally.
Though initially Pond founded the organisation to support the music teachers who helped him survive the horrors of the Khmer Rouge, the organisation has grown rapidly since 1998 to become one of the largest art NGOs in Cambodia that supports hundreds of art students and teachers.
Pond was very young when war overtook his land. "I could hear the artillery but it hadn't taken over our lives," he remembers. Born into a family of opera performers where his mother and aunt were actresses and the earning members since his father and grandfather had passed away, Pond was all set to be a part of this operatic tradition. Being the oldest boy he was sent to the Buddhist temple to serve the head monk there who taught him to read and write Cambodian. His recollections conjure up vivid images of "lots of food, happy people and lots of music" that are so intrinsically a part of Indian temples too.
When terror descended
Then there were the Cambodian movies and of course Kung Fu from China. Imitating the Kung Fu moves was a favourite pastime and Pond remembers giving his three-year-old brother a hard knock, once, that drew blood. These were certainly no preparation for the changes to follow. As he says, "All this ended very quickly."
When the Khmer Rouge came to power in Cambodia he saw many children riding on tanks and trucks with guns and, ironically, yelling, "Peace, peace... Americans go away".
"After a few days they led us out of our houses and commanded us to take nothing along. They said the Americans would bomb us all because they were angry that they had lost," says Pond. Thousands simply walked out in the clothes they were wearing. Highways were packed with people who had left behind everything they had spent their lives to get. Pond didn't know what was going on — "It all happened so quickly. Then the killings started. They asked families, `what did you do in the past'. Many didn't know what to answer. They killed everybody — babies, children and old people. I have seen about 12,000 people being killed."
Soon Pond was among the thousands of child soldiers that the Khmer Rouge recruited to help in the mass pillage and arson. "They made a special axe that killed effectively when used on the back of the head. They would take out the liver and spleen. Sometimes they would eat the liver. I was also forced to grab people's hands and take off their clothing before they stuck the bayonet in," recalls Pond, his voice steady. Only his eyes can't keep out the haunted look as he recalls what a 12-year-old might have felt, helping to kill — including those he knew.
The horror didn't end there. "When they struck, many didn't die immediately. They had me push these people into graves. People swore at us as we pushed them in. Every day they would go out killing. I didn't understand what they were doing and I was afraid to question because I knew they would kill me if I did."
Pond later found out that they had killed about 90 per cent of the artists, performers and writers. "I believe creative people are difficult to convince and they aren't afraid to speak their minds. Such people can't be controlled easily," deems Pond.
Surrounded by death and the dying, with no connection with his family, he believes it's a miracle he didn't die. Having a background in the arts, he was asked to play an instrument for their revolutionary songs and slogans. "There were five of us. Three children who didn't learn fast enough were killed. They killed my teacher who taught me the dulcimer. He told me, `Pond you better learn fast or else they will kill you.' He taught us in five days," he reminisces.
The great escape
Pond was 13 or so when in 1979 the Vietnamese invaded Cambodia and threw out the Khmer Rouge. He was among the thousands of children forced to the frontlines. The Khmer Rouge soldiers hid behind them. Thousands of young people died because they were never trained. "Many got shot in the head. I decided to run away. I lived in the jungles for four months eating what the monkeys ate. I caught fish with my hands. I am lucky not to have been bitten by snakes or leeches. I didn't have any clothing," he recollects.
When he crossed the border into Thailand, where he met Peter Pond, an American who worked there and later became his foster father, Pond weighed about 30 pounds and could only crawl along. Peter Pond took him to America. He didn't know his exact age and so made up a birth date. But the boy's new birth would take much longer.
"I didn't like America in the beginning even though I knew how incredibly lucky I was," he says. He went to school right away even though he didn't speak the language and simple things like using the bathroom were beyond him.
"I looked different and sometimes they made fun of me. Sometimes they hit me on the head and I didn't like that because in Cambodia you don't hit people on the head. I tell you I was shocked. Inside I went crazy," Pond says. The first time he entered a mall he shoplifted. "I didn't know you could have stuff if you paid. In Cambodia these things couldn't be had for anything." Ultimately, his dad said, "Pond, you have to talk about your experiences."
When sharing matters
"Initially I refused because it hurt so much. I thought no one cared," he says. After his first speech that consisted of very simple sentences, Pond understood the power of the spoken word. One girl hugged him and gave him a dollar. He realised that he could raise funds to help others like him. He was also able to reunite with one of his sisters who stays in America. The rest of his family had perished to slow starvation.
Times have changed and so have Pond's battles. Today Pond, who had once felt that life had lost all meaning among so much death, wants Cambodia to be known for its living arts rather than its killing fields.
"Music is a universal ambassador. It is the core of our soul. I was a solider. The sound of the gun was my music for many years — the music of terror and fear," says Pond. Though music healed him and made him "kinder and reduced my anger", the bad dreams recur all too often and the process of forgiving isn't over.
"The suffering is not yet over though the killing is. Politicians are coming together and I believe in the wholeness of their vision," he says. Pond's message, like his music, is universal. He would like to repeat the success of the Cambodian Living Arts elsewhere too. "I have a dream. Just as one day somebody had a dream that every child in the world must have Coco-Cola and eat at McDonald's and succeeded, I want every child to realise that music can be the best ambassador of peace. We all love to sing and dance. We must learn to love each other through song and music."
Prakriti Foundation, Chennai, and Aseema Trust invited Arn Pond to India. His visit coincided with the 100th programme of Prakriti Foundation, which is "showcasing brilliance in music, dance, art, photography, painting and theatre, art history not just as performances but as points to view, to witness and discuss."
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After his first speech that consisted of very simple sentences, Pond understood the power of the spoken word. One girl hugged him and gave him a dollar. He realised that he could raise funds to help others like him.---------------------------------------
He was only nine when he started running, but Arn Chon Pond's moves were no child's play. When the Khmer Rouge took over Cambodia, it meant running for his life. A victim of the ghastly killing fields of Cambodia that took an estimated two million lives, music kept Pond alive. Today, as the founder of the Cambodian Living Arts, a project of World Education, formerly known as the Cambodian Master Performers Programme, Pond is working to save once outlawed traditional music from extinction and harness the power of music to help rehabilitate conflict-afflicted children and youth globally.
Though initially Pond founded the organisation to support the music teachers who helped him survive the horrors of the Khmer Rouge, the organisation has grown rapidly since 1998 to become one of the largest art NGOs in Cambodia that supports hundreds of art students and teachers.
Pond was very young when war overtook his land. "I could hear the artillery but it hadn't taken over our lives," he remembers. Born into a family of opera performers where his mother and aunt were actresses and the earning members since his father and grandfather had passed away, Pond was all set to be a part of this operatic tradition. Being the oldest boy he was sent to the Buddhist temple to serve the head monk there who taught him to read and write Cambodian. His recollections conjure up vivid images of "lots of food, happy people and lots of music" that are so intrinsically a part of Indian temples too.
When terror descended
Then there were the Cambodian movies and of course Kung Fu from China. Imitating the Kung Fu moves was a favourite pastime and Pond remembers giving his three-year-old brother a hard knock, once, that drew blood. These were certainly no preparation for the changes to follow. As he says, "All this ended very quickly."
When the Khmer Rouge came to power in Cambodia he saw many children riding on tanks and trucks with guns and, ironically, yelling, "Peace, peace... Americans go away".
"After a few days they led us out of our houses and commanded us to take nothing along. They said the Americans would bomb us all because they were angry that they had lost," says Pond. Thousands simply walked out in the clothes they were wearing. Highways were packed with people who had left behind everything they had spent their lives to get. Pond didn't know what was going on — "It all happened so quickly. Then the killings started. They asked families, `what did you do in the past'. Many didn't know what to answer. They killed everybody — babies, children and old people. I have seen about 12,000 people being killed."
Soon Pond was among the thousands of child soldiers that the Khmer Rouge recruited to help in the mass pillage and arson. "They made a special axe that killed effectively when used on the back of the head. They would take out the liver and spleen. Sometimes they would eat the liver. I was also forced to grab people's hands and take off their clothing before they stuck the bayonet in," recalls Pond, his voice steady. Only his eyes can't keep out the haunted look as he recalls what a 12-year-old might have felt, helping to kill — including those he knew.
The horror didn't end there. "When they struck, many didn't die immediately. They had me push these people into graves. People swore at us as we pushed them in. Every day they would go out killing. I didn't understand what they were doing and I was afraid to question because I knew they would kill me if I did."
Pond later found out that they had killed about 90 per cent of the artists, performers and writers. "I believe creative people are difficult to convince and they aren't afraid to speak their minds. Such people can't be controlled easily," deems Pond.
Surrounded by death and the dying, with no connection with his family, he believes it's a miracle he didn't die. Having a background in the arts, he was asked to play an instrument for their revolutionary songs and slogans. "There were five of us. Three children who didn't learn fast enough were killed. They killed my teacher who taught me the dulcimer. He told me, `Pond you better learn fast or else they will kill you.' He taught us in five days," he reminisces.
The great escape
Pond was 13 or so when in 1979 the Vietnamese invaded Cambodia and threw out the Khmer Rouge. He was among the thousands of children forced to the frontlines. The Khmer Rouge soldiers hid behind them. Thousands of young people died because they were never trained. "Many got shot in the head. I decided to run away. I lived in the jungles for four months eating what the monkeys ate. I caught fish with my hands. I am lucky not to have been bitten by snakes or leeches. I didn't have any clothing," he recollects.
When he crossed the border into Thailand, where he met Peter Pond, an American who worked there and later became his foster father, Pond weighed about 30 pounds and could only crawl along. Peter Pond took him to America. He didn't know his exact age and so made up a birth date. But the boy's new birth would take much longer.
"I didn't like America in the beginning even though I knew how incredibly lucky I was," he says. He went to school right away even though he didn't speak the language and simple things like using the bathroom were beyond him.
"I looked different and sometimes they made fun of me. Sometimes they hit me on the head and I didn't like that because in Cambodia you don't hit people on the head. I tell you I was shocked. Inside I went crazy," Pond says. The first time he entered a mall he shoplifted. "I didn't know you could have stuff if you paid. In Cambodia these things couldn't be had for anything." Ultimately, his dad said, "Pond, you have to talk about your experiences."
When sharing matters
"Initially I refused because it hurt so much. I thought no one cared," he says. After his first speech that consisted of very simple sentences, Pond understood the power of the spoken word. One girl hugged him and gave him a dollar. He realised that he could raise funds to help others like him. He was also able to reunite with one of his sisters who stays in America. The rest of his family had perished to slow starvation.
Times have changed and so have Pond's battles. Today Pond, who had once felt that life had lost all meaning among so much death, wants Cambodia to be known for its living arts rather than its killing fields.
"Music is a universal ambassador. It is the core of our soul. I was a solider. The sound of the gun was my music for many years — the music of terror and fear," says Pond. Though music healed him and made him "kinder and reduced my anger", the bad dreams recur all too often and the process of forgiving isn't over.
"The suffering is not yet over though the killing is. Politicians are coming together and I believe in the wholeness of their vision," he says. Pond's message, like his music, is universal. He would like to repeat the success of the Cambodian Living Arts elsewhere too. "I have a dream. Just as one day somebody had a dream that every child in the world must have Coco-Cola and eat at McDonald's and succeeded, I want every child to realise that music can be the best ambassador of peace. We all love to sing and dance. We must learn to love each other through song and music."
Prakriti Foundation, Chennai, and Aseema Trust invited Arn Pond to India. His visit coincided with the 100th programme of Prakriti Foundation, which is "showcasing brilliance in music, dance, art, photography, painting and theatre, art history not just as performances but as points to view, to witness and discuss."
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