Sometimes when I visit the villages my thoughts revert back to the early history of America and more often they are filled with times of the Khmer Rouge. I'll see a white-haired man or woman staring at me and instantly imagine their shock being in my presence during the ordeal. Somehow making it past "Chlops" in the forest and pirates on the rivers to experience their turmoil as well. This happens especially when I see a delapitated building that is somehow still occupied by human beings and their animals, or when the very disadvantaged are spotted. Sometimes it just happens and others I consciously place the current scene in various past times. This may sound crazy to you and it is a bit however; with my head full of stories and facts from past catasrophes I can't help but let my thoughts relate the present to what I know from books. For instance, in this one village the feeling stuck with me during the Moto ride back as it was so "out-dated" at least in the States, but Cambodia is similar to just after the Revolution War period as there are modern "comforts" but things are still stabilizing politically and economically.
James and I visited a Tampuen village that stretched into Government land that was currently not in use. We were told that some of the people now living on this land had lost their own land when the Khmer Rouge were here and others mistakenly sold too much at the first sight of money from city-dwellers. Now they all work on nearby plantations and live on the government land. One of these houses appeared to be more professional than the others and James decided it was the Office building for the plantations. After speaking with nearly every house in the village though, we were curious to know what was down the hill in this more stable structure. A young girl told us that a blind woman lived in the old-office with her two sons, although she was not married. Men had raped her multiple times and so she has two children now. After the first child though, her younger sister's husband died and now she took care of the children and elder sister.
We quickly scrambled down the hill to discover her situation and James carefully knocked before pushing open the door slightly. It seemed to open for us, as the blind woman was opening it while croutched on the floor. One child had tear streaked eyes and couldn't stop staring at me so, I began making interesting hand gestures learned in Elementary School. James spoke with the younger sister who was cooking and trying to keep the younger child still. The floor had more than a layer of dirt that was covering the younger child and blind woman who seemed to move in a frog position around the small room. She had a "kroma" wrapped around her waist but nothing more to shield her skin from the bugs and dirt swirling about as the chidlren ran around the room. As they spoke a little Khmer and no English but mainly Tampuen, James was the only one able to verbally communicate with them. I entertained the children while wondering if the blind woman even knew I was there. I croutched down next to her and debated photographing the entire scene. She looked my direction and seemed to sense someone or thing being present. I shifted my weight as she moved her hands on the door, turning her head towards James. I decided against the photos believing it may have left them feeling embarassed like I was simply a tourist viewing the local attraction.
My thoughts drifted back to the Khmer Rouge communes and this woman barely surviving except for entertaining the young males. Soon I was comparing early America and Europe to current Cambodian villages. I know that England was nearly worse than many "red light" areas of Thailand, Amsterdam, Russia and Viet Nam; also early America was not the sterile, pure image taught so often in the public school system. It was a much harsher climate that only tough women could survive in, or be very protected against the crude men who were mainly drunk most of the day. Anyway, before I begin rambling about the social history of America stemming from the lower class of Europe; I shall conclude on a brighter note.
After returning to Ban Lung, James spread the word of this woman's situation to friends and family while I collected some donations from the few people I know here. He ended up with a large bag of noodles, cans of sardines in tomato sauce, medicines, clothes and some food in the market (all of this was only $8 total). I collected some too and added it to the funds for rices and vegetables James purchased before visiting her again. This is one place I feel very safe but still know thefts are common so, I suggested that he do not let anyone else in the village know about what he is doing on his visit. He hadn't even thought of bringing the things hidden in backpack, since he was so exstatic to help these women and children. He did agree though that they might be stolen or put both women at risks of being harmed by the men, again. I did not accompany him on this second visit, as foreigners are already considered to be very rich and the donations might be viewed as an insulting "hand-out" or re-enforce stereotypes even more.
Well, I am exhausted from teaching in this sweltering heat and must plan a lesson for tomorrow still.
peace and love
