S-21 Prison, CambodiaWednesday, 19 Nov 2008
Nick Claxton has never ventured outside of Europe before but a combination of too many years in London, a lack of proper responsibilities and an unhealthy admiration for Michael Palin now means he is spending a year travelling the globe. A terminally-disorganised 24-year-old taking on the world - solo. Here is his 20th blog entry:
Leaving the Angkor temples was a bit of a wrench. Taking some time out in Siem Reap and being more leisurely on our trips to see the ruins would have been great. But my sister's schedule was tighter than mine - Charlie's time was running out and she had a flight to catch back into the UK and reality.
Luckily, getting across the centre of Cambodia is much faster than the rural route we took in from the west. Running from Siem Reap to Phnom Penh is the best road in all of Cambodia - sealed all the way - so it was just a five hours non-stop by mini-bus down to the capital US$10 (£6).
A short tuk-tuk ride got us to the Okay Guesthouse (twin room with A/C for US$8 [£5] a night) where we crashed out for an hour, before heading down to the riverside for some food. Although this was one of the most affluent areas of Phnom Penh, the darker underside of Cambodia's society was still on show.
Sit down outside of any of the cafes on the banks of the Mekong and your guaranteed to be swarmed by children as young as five soon enough. They're either begging or try to sell photocopied books to Westerners. Heart-rending stuff, but made worse since the kids rarely get to keep the money themselves - we were warned by expats that they are exploited by adult ring-leaders.
Poverty-stricken as parts of Phnom Penh may be, local clubs and bars offer a thriving, if seedy, nightlife (beware marauding legions of go-go girls!). But the city's main attractions are historical - the infamous Choenk Ek Killing Fields and Tuong Sleng prison.
Some 24,000 people were interred and tortured at Tuong Sleng over the four years of Pol Pot's regime - just a small portion of the estimated 1.7 million who were killed between 1975-9.
Officially designated S-21, the prison had previously been a school. Tiny wooden cells with shackles on the floor are distressing enough, but are as nothing to the rusting metal beds in classrooms-turned-torture chambers.
On the walls hang uncensored photos of the same room with a victim sprawled helplessly on the same metal bed - a grisly, disconcerting experience.
Nazi concentration camps had affected me similarly when younger, but what I found harder to comprehend at S-21 was that there have been very few repercussions for the culprits.
The UN regarded the regime as legitimate up until 1991 which helped Khmer Rouge leaders go into hiding in Cambodia, Thailand or beyond. Like Pol Pot himself, many have died of old age without being held to account and only a handful await trial.
I found this both baffling and disheartening even as a foreigner - especially after visiting the infamous Killing Fields just a short drive from Phnom Penh. Though tales of bones sticking out of the ground proved untrue, the rows of mass graves, the tattered clothing still buried in the mud and the towering pile of skulls in the memorial tell their own graphic, horrifying story.
Of course, some more frivolous distractions are also on offer around Phnom Penh. You can release some buttoned-up emotions by go-karting at the Kambol F1 Raceway (US$7 [£3] each for ten minutes) or try out anything from Colt.65s to M-16s at the nearby shooting range (prices vary depending on weapon and rounds used).
But the Killing Fields hadn't really put me in the kind of mood to pick up a gun and blast away. I'd realised a heavy shadow remained over Cambodia - it was still haunted by its past. But I couldn't understand why time hadn't been more effective in wiping the slate clean.
On my second trip to S-21, I got more than a simple hint. While waiting for some friends to finish their prison tour, I sat down to chat to a tour guide at the gate named Phong who was strumming a broken down guitar.
After discussing what I knew of the prison's history and sharing our view on why former leaders are still escaping justice, I asked how he had become a tour guide here.
He had a simple answer - he was a former S-21 prison guard. And unlike many of the thousands of former Khmer Rouge, Phong was willing to talk to me about it.
While he understood why the rest of the population has little sympathy for former Khmer Rouge comrades, Phong claimed to be just as much a victim as the eight inmates who survived S-21 and others who had suffered under the regime.
Indoctrinated to the cause as a child, he claimed ignorance and fear had forced him to carry out acts that still haunt his days and nights.
Being a tour guide at his former workplace was his penance. But, despite being desperate for money, he could only manage one or two tours a day before the emotions became too much for him.
Seeing firsthand the psychological damage inflicted on the other side of the Khmer Rouge divide helped me get an idea of why my over-riding Cambodian memories are of a society that's seized-up.
The wounds run so deep that trying to come to terms with a blemished sense of identity and national pride is hampered by both wanting to explain what occurred here and the desire to sweep it away and move on.
As an outsider, it was both demoralising and fascinating. Widespread child poverty and a chilling history show humanity near its worst. But genuine pride in the Angkor temples and hope for slow progress suggest brighter times are around the corner for this most enigmatic and engrossing of countries.
Nicholas Claxon
Nick Claxton has never ventured outside of Europe before but a combination of too many years in London, a lack of proper responsibilities and an unhealthy admiration for Michael Palin now means he is spending a year travelling the globe. A terminally-disorganised 24-year-old taking on the world - solo. Here is his 20th blog entry:
Leaving the Angkor temples was a bit of a wrench. Taking some time out in Siem Reap and being more leisurely on our trips to see the ruins would have been great. But my sister's schedule was tighter than mine - Charlie's time was running out and she had a flight to catch back into the UK and reality.
Luckily, getting across the centre of Cambodia is much faster than the rural route we took in from the west. Running from Siem Reap to Phnom Penh is the best road in all of Cambodia - sealed all the way - so it was just a five hours non-stop by mini-bus down to the capital US$10 (£6).
A short tuk-tuk ride got us to the Okay Guesthouse (twin room with A/C for US$8 [£5] a night) where we crashed out for an hour, before heading down to the riverside for some food. Although this was one of the most affluent areas of Phnom Penh, the darker underside of Cambodia's society was still on show.
Sit down outside of any of the cafes on the banks of the Mekong and your guaranteed to be swarmed by children as young as five soon enough. They're either begging or try to sell photocopied books to Westerners. Heart-rending stuff, but made worse since the kids rarely get to keep the money themselves - we were warned by expats that they are exploited by adult ring-leaders.
Poverty-stricken as parts of Phnom Penh may be, local clubs and bars offer a thriving, if seedy, nightlife (beware marauding legions of go-go girls!). But the city's main attractions are historical - the infamous Choenk Ek Killing Fields and Tuong Sleng prison.
Some 24,000 people were interred and tortured at Tuong Sleng over the four years of Pol Pot's regime - just a small portion of the estimated 1.7 million who were killed between 1975-9.
Officially designated S-21, the prison had previously been a school. Tiny wooden cells with shackles on the floor are distressing enough, but are as nothing to the rusting metal beds in classrooms-turned-torture chambers.
On the walls hang uncensored photos of the same room with a victim sprawled helplessly on the same metal bed - a grisly, disconcerting experience.
Nazi concentration camps had affected me similarly when younger, but what I found harder to comprehend at S-21 was that there have been very few repercussions for the culprits.
The UN regarded the regime as legitimate up until 1991 which helped Khmer Rouge leaders go into hiding in Cambodia, Thailand or beyond. Like Pol Pot himself, many have died of old age without being held to account and only a handful await trial.
I found this both baffling and disheartening even as a foreigner - especially after visiting the infamous Killing Fields just a short drive from Phnom Penh. Though tales of bones sticking out of the ground proved untrue, the rows of mass graves, the tattered clothing still buried in the mud and the towering pile of skulls in the memorial tell their own graphic, horrifying story.
Of course, some more frivolous distractions are also on offer around Phnom Penh. You can release some buttoned-up emotions by go-karting at the Kambol F1 Raceway (US$7 [£3] each for ten minutes) or try out anything from Colt.65s to M-16s at the nearby shooting range (prices vary depending on weapon and rounds used).
But the Killing Fields hadn't really put me in the kind of mood to pick up a gun and blast away. I'd realised a heavy shadow remained over Cambodia - it was still haunted by its past. But I couldn't understand why time hadn't been more effective in wiping the slate clean.
On my second trip to S-21, I got more than a simple hint. While waiting for some friends to finish their prison tour, I sat down to chat to a tour guide at the gate named Phong who was strumming a broken down guitar.
After discussing what I knew of the prison's history and sharing our view on why former leaders are still escaping justice, I asked how he had become a tour guide here.
He had a simple answer - he was a former S-21 prison guard. And unlike many of the thousands of former Khmer Rouge, Phong was willing to talk to me about it.
While he understood why the rest of the population has little sympathy for former Khmer Rouge comrades, Phong claimed to be just as much a victim as the eight inmates who survived S-21 and others who had suffered under the regime.
Indoctrinated to the cause as a child, he claimed ignorance and fear had forced him to carry out acts that still haunt his days and nights.
Being a tour guide at his former workplace was his penance. But, despite being desperate for money, he could only manage one or two tours a day before the emotions became too much for him.
Seeing firsthand the psychological damage inflicted on the other side of the Khmer Rouge divide helped me get an idea of why my over-riding Cambodian memories are of a society that's seized-up.
The wounds run so deep that trying to come to terms with a blemished sense of identity and national pride is hampered by both wanting to explain what occurred here and the desire to sweep it away and move on.
As an outsider, it was both demoralising and fascinating. Widespread child poverty and a chilling history show humanity near its worst. But genuine pride in the Angkor temples and hope for slow progress suggest brighter times are around the corner for this most enigmatic and engrossing of countries.
Nicholas Claxon
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