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Prek Thkauv had about 30
families. In early 1975, many Prek Thkauv villagers moved to a refugee camp in
Phnom Penh in order to escape shelling, making my village a quiet place for the
first time. My father, older brother and I stayed behind to tend cattle and
catch fish from ponds around the village for my mother to sell. Three of my
older brothers were in Phnom Penh with her. My sisters lived in another
village.
On April 16, my
family met to celebrate the Khmer New Year. But the celebration was cut short
because of the fighting around the city. When the fighting reached my village
that night, I jumped into a trench and stayed there until daybreak. When I came
out, I saw people raising white cloths in surrender. There were many Khmer Rouge
soldiers on Chroy Chanva Bridge waiting to cross the Mekong River. They forced
my father to ferry them to the opposite bank so that they could proceed to
downtown Phnom Penh. He continued to ferry people across the Mekong amidst the
chaos of evacuation. I saw many worried-looking people from Phnom Penh walking
past our house. Some had nothing to eat because they had not brought food along
with them. A few families sought refuge in my house for a week or a month, after
which the Khmer Rouge moved them to other places. When all of the Phnom Penh
people were gone, it was the turn of our villagers to be evacuated.
Fortunately, my family was allowed to stay because my father had carpentry
skills. My unmarried siblings stayed with our parents, but the married ones were
put on boats and sent up the Mekong River. We left each other in tears.
The village became
quiet again. At about 7 p.m. one evening, I witnessed a few Khmer Rouge soldiers
walking past our house, leading a group of people who were tied up. They were
walking to the north and their heads were down. After a few minutes, I heard a
deep voice cry out, which told me that a soldier had hit someone. I heard my
father and an elderly man say that the Khmer Rouge were taking those people for
reeducation, but I knew that the hidden meaning of "reeducation" was execution.
The Khmer Rouge
began to mix "base people" from many villages into groups. Because my father was
a carpenter, he was ordered to make rakes and plow blades. My mother was placed
into the middle-aged group, which tended crops. My elder siblings were put into
mobile units, while at 13 I was assigned to tend cows.
My job each day
was to keep two cows healthy. My cows were named Khla (tiger) and Prakk
(silver). Prakk was a docile cow. Khla, as its name suggests, was an aggressive
cow. It was the strongest and defeated all other cows in the village. But both
were very obedient. They would lie down on command so I could ride them. I loved
them and they loved me. The cowboys in our village were ordered to lead their
cows to graze far from the village, but I was lucky. I was able to stay near the
village since my cows were among the four pairs that were the village's "model
cows."
One time, I was
very sick. I shivered alone under a jackfruit tree and fell asleep. When I woke
up, my cows were gone. I was very nervous because I knew that if I could not
find them, I would be punished. At the time, whenever I made a minor mistake, I
would panic. Later I found my cows in a herd of others.
In 1976, the Khmer
Rouge began to select members for their mobile units. One of my brothers, who
was a few years older than me, joined the village's mobile unit, while I
continued to tend cattle. We were very delighted when we were able to meet once
a month.
In 1976, we had to
get up at 3 a.m. in order to sweep a 700-meter road in the village. It took me
two days to sweep the road once. At 5 a.m. I had to collect the dung of my cows,
put it in compost holes, and then report to my group leader on how much I
gathered. Cowboys also had to carry one cubic meter of earth before going to
bed. We worked in groups of three: one dug earth and the other two carried the
earth away. Some nights, we were told to catch rats or transport hay.
In 1977, the Khmer
Rouge forced the people to work harder. As far as I know, they killed more
people during the period from late 1976 to 1977. People began starving because
groups were given only three cans of rice to make a watery soup. They tried to
supplement their soup with leaves of yam and other plants. We all became so bony
thin that our knees rubbed against each other when we walked; it was very
painful. People had a saying; "Knees twist and rub against each other, creating
fire."
Unable to resist
hunger, I began to steal food. I climbed coconut trees and then used a stick to
pierce the skin of the coconut. I did not pick the fruits, as that would leave
evidence behind. I picked jackfruits and hid them at the banana plantation, and
returned later to eat them. I stole bird eggs from nests and ate small frogs I
caught. One day when I was picking bananas at the plantation, a sub-district
chief named Dum arrived on his bicycle. My friend and I dashed away, jumping
over thorny bushes. We were panic-stricken; our hands were shaking, but we got
away with it. I remember my father stole a coconut from a tree behind our house.
He put rice in it and threw it into a fire. It produced smoke that kept insects
away from the cows. There was only a little cooked rice, but we shared it among
our family members. It was delicious!
Because I had a
natural talent for whistling, some people asked me to whistle for them at night.
As a reward, they gave me some food to bring back home. When I had free time, I
helped my mother in the fields. I wanted to lighten her work, but I became
exhausted quickly. In the afternoon, I tied my cows in the stable and waited for
my mother on the road in case she needed me to carry her baskets. My mother was
the weakest woman in her group of eight. She always walked behind the
others.
In 1978, the
village was flooded for the first time. The water was knee-deep and open wounds
would not heal. My brothers and I also had unhealed wounds. In late 1978, some
people complained about my father, saying that he could not keep a secret. In
the regime there was a saying: "keeping secret well, living longer." My father
was not a quiet man; he said whatever was on his mind. Someone became angry with
my father and reported him to the sub-district chief. The chief then summoned my
father to meet him that night, telling him to prepare to leave; he was going to
receive education the following morning. My father came home to tell us before
he left. My mother was grieving, but did not cry and my older siblings were all
sad. My father said, "Don't worry, though tomorrow they will kill me." He
reminded my mother to take good care of us since he could no longer protect us.
He brought with him one black shirt and trousers to wear when he died. He left
home at 7 p.m. To our amazement, he returned at 9 p.m., telling us the Khmer
Rouge would not kill him unless he committed another mistake.
Different groups
of Khmer Rouge administered my village. The first group was kind and very young.
They called old people nhorm, in the way a monk would address the laity. A month
later the Khmer Rouge sent new cadres from far-flung places to head my district.
These people were killers. In late 1977 and early 1978, the third group, called
the "center people," arrived. These people were also kind. When they came, they
took curtains down from the theatres to make clothes for the villagers. They
also returned clothes that had been taken from the people in 1975. But a few
months later, the Khmer Rouge Southwest cadres came. These cadres' eyes were
formidably red (many Cambodians believe that someone who is very vicious and
eats human flesh has red eyes).
In late 1978, the
Khmer Rouge summoned all of our villagers, young and old, to watch a movie. The
area where the movie was shown was roped in so no one could leave. Some people
thought the Khmer Rouge would kill all of us. Luckily a big storm struck during
the movie and we all left. A few months later, the Khmer Rouge asked our village
to watch another movie at a place further away than before. The movie showed Pol
Pot visiting a crockery factory and people farming. When the movie was over,
another storm hit. And so the villagers were spared again.
My father died of
exhaustion on April 20, 1979. I helped my mother to support our family. I smoked
fish that I caught and sold them along with other goods that my mother sold. I
also sold seasonal fruits. In 1979, I started grade 3 in a village school and
graduated in 1981. In 1984, I entered the fine arts school (the part of the
University of Fine Arts that teaches young people acting) to study composing. I
stayed with my older brother near Wat Phnom, Phnom Penh, at this time.
In 1988, I went to
Koh Kong province to work as a coolie. When I had saved up 1000 Baht (US $25), I
returned home and got married in 1990 at the age of 27. I earned no money after
we were married, and relied on my mother-in-law to support us. I decided to work
as a construction worker. When the United Nations Transitional Authority in
Cambodia (UNTAC) arrived, I worked for them.
I began my photography career in 1993, taking
portraits of local tourists in front
of the Royal Palace. My first camera was made in Germany. I had wanted to become
a journalist since I was at school, but no one thought I would make a good
journalist. However, in December 1993, a local newspaper called Khmer Ekreach
employed me. A year later, I worked for the Cambodia Times. In October 1996 I
worked for Cambodia Today, which went bankrupt in 1997. Later I became a freelance photographer
for The Cambodia Daily and other international media such as Reuters, AFP, Time
Magazine, Newsweek and the New York Times. In August 2001, I went to Bangkok to
attend a conference and display my photographs.
After the UN
withdrew from negotiations with the Cambodian government on establishing a Khmer
Rouge tribunal in June 2002, I planned to launch a photo exhibition on the Khmer
Rouge to help keep this issue alive. Mr. Youk Chhang, director of the
Documentation Center of Cambodia, supported and encouraged me to hold the
exhibition at Tuol Sleng Museum (Tuol Sleng was the central-level prison in
Phnom Penh where over 20,000 people were killed). I asked my friends, "If your
parents had been killed during the KR regime, what would you do to the murderers
apart from shooting them?" All of them said, "Without guns, we would go to the
courts." I asked a foreigner, "What would you do if you suffered like the
Cambodian people?" He said, "I am happy right now; I don't want to talk about
it." This answer made me reconsider my plan. However, for educational and
reconciliation purposes, the exhibition was launched in November 2002. I
received many compliments and recommendations from those who saw it.
I have been trying
to tell the world about the Khmer Rouge regime. I want to meet their most
ferocious murderer and have him reveal his experience to me. I want to make
photographic records about the lives of those perpetrators. I do not want to
show the history of their murders, but their lives as spouses and villagers. I
was very happy that the United Nations resumed negotiations with the Cambodian
government on the Khmer Rouge tribunal, which led to the agreement signed by
Hans Corell and H.E. Mr. Sok An on June 6, 2003.
I am going to Denmark to share experiences
with Danish students. I would talk about my personal experience and the Khmer
Rouge regime. What I hope to get from the Danes is new ideas that would help my
career, and hopefully my country. It is an honor for me to have a chance to go
to Denmark. If I am given an opportunity to meet high-ranking Danish officials,
I will ask them to help move the Khmer Rouge tribunal process forward at a
faster rate.
I am a
photojournalist who puts his heart and soul into his nation's interests. I want
to become a Cambodian photographer who is internationally renowned. I hope in
the future, Cambodia will be led by politicians who do not oppose each other, as
they do today!
(Khmer Transcripts
by Sann Kalyan. Translated and edited by Kok-Thay Eng)
DC-CAM PHOTO
EXHIBITION
THE VICTIMS OF
HISTORY:
VOICE OF THE
KHMER
ROUGE VICTIMS
AND
PERPETRATORS
THE
ACT OF KHMER ROUGE OR
THE
COLLAPSE OF BUDDHISM?
Heng Sinith, Photographer
with Resaerchers of DC-Cam
[Pivoine, Dara, Osman, Vannak, Nean]
DENMARK: September 10-
October 7, 2003
Sponsored by Operation
Dagsværk
Studiestræde 24,
3.th., 1455 København K, Denmark
Tlf: 3311 4540
Fax: 3311 4543, e-mail: od@od.dk
Besøg vores
hjemmeside på http://www.od.dk/.
Supported by
DanChurchAid--Cambodia and
Toul Sleng Genocide
Museum. |
