The Killing Fields

July 13^th, 2019

4:46 P.M. Phnom Penh, Cambodia

After several days of sitting in a nice air-conditioned room, learning about gender justice, discussing culture shock, and reviewing health and safety, we finally got to go out on an excursion. This afternoon we went to the Choeung Ek Genocidal Center, otherwise known as “The Killing Fields” in Phnom Penh.  

For those that don’t know, between 1975 and 1979 (yes, ending only 40 years ago) Cambodia experienced a mass genocide. Right after the end of the Vietnam War when U.S. troops had used parts of Cambodia as home base (as well as bombed parts of the country after suspecting Vietnamese targets), the Khmer Rouge, the communist party of Kampuchea, took power and tried to put Cambodia “back to Year Zero” and build a new republic. In order to make everyone “equal”, The Khmer Rouge executed anyone educated and "above" average. Doctors, teachers, journalists, and even those wearing glasses were singled out and killed because they were a threat to the system, seeing as they had had an education or looked like they were educated. However, this brutal regime believed that in order to stop these individuals, they also needed to kill anyone related or affiliated with the intellectuals, so families were also murdered.

Cambodian victims would be rounded up, taken in cramped trucks, and dropped off at The Killing Fields to be exterminated. Sound familiar? That was my thought, too. This was eerily similar to everything I had learned about The Holocaust in Germany. I kept thinking, "Why have I not heard about this until now?" It bothers me that this is recent history, there was U.S. involvement, and we don’t talk about it in schools. Many of the families that were separated still don’t know if their loved ones are missing or simply dead. Beyond that, around 40,000 Cambodians have been (and continue to be) victims of landmines produced during the reign of The Khmer Rouge. This mass genocide killed one-third of the entire population of Cambodia, and its lasting effects are continuing to kill and maim thousands more.

When first arriving to The Killing Fields, I wasn’t sure what to expect. The Cambodian heat made the entire experience uncomfortable on its own, but I don't think I was prepared for what my eyes were going to witness. Upon walking through the gates to the site, we received headphone sets to guide us through the fields. Each time we stopped at a marker, we would receive information about what was happening at that particular spot. The first thing we saw was a large and beautiful structure. At first glance, it was a nice piece of architecture. At second glance, it was holding thousands of human skulls.

After returning from The Killing Fields, I was doing some reflection on what I saw with a couple of the other individuals in my program. There were moments of absolute disbelief. Along the path we would see pieces of bone and clothing stuck in the dirt. In my head all I could imagine were people literally being ripped out of their clothing and pushed to the ground to be either hit in the head with a hammer or have their neck sliced. There was even a tree (which was now decorated in bracelets left behind by tourists) that they discovered had been used to kill babies. They would swing the child so hard against the tree that its skull would be crushed and it would die. And hundreds were killed this way.

As some of you may know, this journey I’ve decided to do is a global program. Over 50 individuals from all around the world (and from 26 countries) have decided to make a similar decision. One of those individuals is Cambodian. She willingly shared that growing up she didn’t understand why she didn’t have grandparents, or why her father talked about his siblings but they never saw them. It wasn’t until she became older that the devastation of what had happened in her country became a heavy weight on her heart.

Hearing her speak reminded me of a student I had while finishing my student teaching in Lincoln, Nebraska. She was from Cambodia, only having lived in the United States for a few years. Every day she came to school ready to learn, participate, and improve her English. She was a model student. And it frustrates me that during my time I spent being her teacher, I didn’t know her history.  

A fellow American peer said it best while debriefing. As Americans, we feel we are connected to things happening all over the world. The United States has resources and is powerful. We seem to always stick our noses in whether we belong or not. But these things keep happening. So, what are we missing?