The Killing Fields... Cambodia

Phnom Penh / Sihanoukville, Cambodia
November 4 - 23, 2008

I am sure most Westerners have never heard of the the Pol Pot regime and the relatively recent genocide of Cambodia in the years 1975-1979. During the Vietnam War, this neutral country was caught between the beliefs of ‘Communism’ and ‘Democracy’. Cambodia’s rights and borders were ignored by both parties, and eventually their government was ousted and replaced with corrupt (but useful) ‘democratic’ politicians who benefited financially from war. During this time, the Americans dropped 50% more bomb tonnage on Cambodia in a single year than was dropped on all off Japan for the whole of WW2. The stage was set for some Cambodians, formerly neutral, to reluctantly embrace Communism in order to protect themselves from the infringement of the 'democratic' powers. This set the backdrop for a very troubled and devastated country. Out of the turmoil emerged a European-schooled Cambodian, a ruthless individual named Pol Pot who orchestrated genocide against his own people.

Pol Pot’s vision was to turn Cambodia into an agrarian society focussed on the production of rice. He felt his vision would be threatened or hindered by scientists, scholars, western-educated people, Buddhist monks, and the crippled or lame. These people as well as those of other ethnic descents were tortured and killed in staggering numbers. What remains of this shocking genocide is a sobering tourist visit to the S-21 museum (formerly a high school-turned-torture-chamber) and the site of The Killing Fields where the mass executions occurred. I believe the Vietnam War was a catalyst that precipitated this horrendous blight on Cambodian humanity under the guise of honor and valor.

The recent generations of Cambodian people have lived with exceptionally corrupt political regimes and governments operating in their own self-interest and at the expense of their own people (which has also been happening in North America, although with a much more evolved and subtle strategy). Certainly, Phnom Penh remains an interestingly raw and gritty city, where laws and rules mean nothing, and where anything is available for the right price.

The real beauty of Cambodia is out in the green and brown countryside, where the simplicity of life and the smiles on people’s faces are balanced with the daily struggle of life. Cambodia and its beautiful people will remain one of my favorite travel experiences.


Rice Fields, Phnom Penh, Cambodia.  Running with the Hash House Harriers, run number 887 in Phnom Penh.


Rice Fields, Phnom Penh, Cambodia.  I spontaneously joined the Hash House Harriers, a worldwide and eclectic group of running and social enthusiasts, for run number 887 out of Phnom Penh.


Military Base, Phnom Penh, Cambodia
War disgusts me, but I always like to see things from different perspectives, so I thought I'd try something new. The complete lack of rules in Cambodia gave me the opportunity to shoot a Russian Kalashnikov (AK-47) assault rifle at a target. I opted not to shoot the rocket launcher at a living cow, but the option was available.


Railway Tracks, Phnom Penh, Cambodia
Even though this old man didn’t speak a word of English, he insisted that I take his photograph as I walked by his shop on the edge of the abandoned railway track.


This is a small collage of some of the people tortured and killed in S-21


S-21 Torture Chamber, Cambodia
This former classroom served as one of the many torture chambers used by the Khmer Rouge.


These are some enthusiastic children that are playing along the abandoned railway tracks where they live.


Makeshift houses and small communities have sprung up along the old railway lines. These lakefront properties do not have facilities for garbage collection, so they live in their own refuse. Imagine if these people consumed on the scale that we do in our ‘developed nations’, where we are simply better at hiding our garbage from the public eye.

The Real Cambodia Is Green and Brown

November 3 - 6, 2008
Battambang, Cambodia

A wise friend recently wrote to me and told me the real Cambodia is green and brown. I thought I understood what he meant, but I am learning the difference between understanding and knowing. Leaving Siem Reap for Battambang, our rickshaw boat sputtered along for 8 hours through flooded lands, floating villages, and along a slow and winding river where people fished, bathed, swam, and worked. Intrigued by the life I saw along the river, I wanted to see more.

The next day, I turned my back on the tourist destinations and unimaginative touts and pointed my weathered rental scooter in no particular direction, just following the roads until they withered away into paths of gravel and then mud. Tourists don't go here. I dropped the bike into the lowest gear and crawled along the muddy roads lined with banana trees and rickety wood houses on stilts. As I passed, smiles erupted on the faces of children, sheepish smirks blossomed on the young women bathing in the rivers as their eyes met mine, and parents and grandparents rushed to call their kids to my attention if they weren't already following me with barefeet or bicycles. Everyone waved. I was followed by echoes of "Hello" or "Bye Bye" and not necessarily in the proper contexts! This is the real Cambodia... living along the brown life-giving rivers, the shady green trees, the luscious rice fields, and the muddy brown roads with not much else but a smile to their name.

Nearing the end of the path and the end of my day, I encountered a group of men sitting on a bamboo platform under a large sprawling tree next to a wet rice paddy. They were playing some sort of traditional violin and drum while singing into a microphone and speaker system. An old man held out an offer of a grimy glass of what I guessed was Cambodian moonshine. More for the opportunity than the moonshine, I hit the brakes. For the next hour or so I completely left my comfort zone, and somehow completely entered it at the same time. After some laughs, some shots of alcohol, offers of vegetables and fish heads and mysterious large bug-things, they put me on the microphone and expected me to perform. I searched in my memory for some prophetic Jim Morrison or Leonard Cohen lyrics, but nothing came... not even my well-memorized Beastie Boys lyrics. It didn't matter since. Not a word of English was understood except for 'hello'. I was alone in the moment. I sung and rapped and chanted anything that the rhythm of the drum pulled out of me. They joined in with my impromptu chorus lines and I joined in with their dancing as a few old women and children gathered to watch.

On an ancient scooter my insurance company would laugh at, in the darkness on slippery brown unlit roads, without a DOT-approved helmet, and with a couple smiles worth of Cambodian liquid in my system, I am free.



River boat - Siem Reap to Battambang. Young girl trying to survive the swells thrown off by our boat as we pass by. For all you overprotective people... notice no life-preserver!


River boat - Siem Reap to Battambang. The girls are always paddling, it seems.


River boat - Siem Reap to Battambang. Presumably a brother and sister out casting fishing nets.


River boat - Siem Reap to Battambang. A bicyclist following the river at about the same pace as our river boat.


River boat - Siem Reap to Battambang. After the daughter cooled herself off by pouring a bucket of water over her head, the father decides to do the same thing!


River boat - Siem Reap to Battambang. Another young girl out fishing in her boat.


River boat - Siem Reap to Battambang. Young boy fishing in his boat.


River boat - Siem Reap to Battambang. Boys and their fishing nets along the banks of the river.


River boat - Siem Reap to Battambang. School children from the floating villages returning to class. No life jackets in sight.


River boat - Siem Reap to Battambang. Same schoolchildren and their cacophony of paddles.


River boat - Siem Reap to Battambang. Sadly, there is just no good way to deal with the packaging waste of the modern world. In the western world, we tend to hide our dumps better, but this is the future we are leaving for all our children.


River boat - Siem Reap to Battambang. Everyone is friendly along the river. Several girls along the way take their time to showcase a little and blow kisses at our boat!


Scooter Day, near Battambang. Kids playing in something or other...


Scooter Day, near Battambang. A naked family sings and chatters away as they float along the river.


Scooter Day, near Battambang. Boy transporting his load along the roads.


Scooter Day, near Battambang. My music group. The old guy on the right wearing the dress seemed to be the leader, and is the one who offered me the moonshine as I putted by on my scooter.


Scooter Day, near Battambang. This is the tree under which the guys were playing music and chilling out.


Bicycle Day, South of Battambang. A youngster returns home to his house in the rice fields.


Bicycle Day, South of Battambang. A friendly couple of kids that joined me for a few hundred metres while smiling and laughing along the way.


Bicycle Day, South of Battambang. An old woman tried to set me up (or marry me off) with this girl who owns and runs this roadside store. I ordered a Coke, and it took me a little bit to communicate that I would like some ice too. Finally she went to the cooler, and attacked the block of ice with a more than slightly rusty hacksaw, and then finished it off with an equally old hatchet...


Bicycle Day, South of Battambang. There were a few of these guys transporting pots and pans throughout the countryside. Excuse the pun, but a few feet behind him was a one-legged amputee also on a bicycle.


Bicycle Day, South of Battambang. Shy and cautious girl and her bicycle.


Bicycle Day, South of Battambang. Girls walking through the muddy paths, caring for their siblings.


Bicycle Day, South of Battambang. A suspension bridge surrounded by browns, greens, and blues.


Bicycle Day, South of Battambang. This brave little kid didn't even hesitate... he stripped down to his underwear, climbed up onto the bridge, shimied up the cables, and threw himself off this bridge and into the brown waters below... then he continued to scrub his pants clean in the river. All part of a day's work. I don't think too many North American parents would survive the cardiac arrest if they saw their children doing this...


Bicycle Day, South of Battambang. These boys just playing in the rivers.


Bicycle Day, South of Battambang. Bicycles and bridges.

Angkor Who? ...Cambodia

Angkor Wat, Siem Reap, Cambodia
October 25 - November 3, 2008

I arrived in the dirty Cambodian capitol of Phnom Penh and the difference from Thailand was immediate. Bicycles clogged the dirty road as much as scooters, as everyone weaves and dodges through the uncontrolled chaos. Hanging out near the lucrative foreigner hostels, young girls of perhaps 8 years old peddle their photocopied books for money. When denied, they respond with shockingly mature but ill-placed comments such as "no money, no honey!" and "come on, daaaarling!" in perfect english. Charming as they may be, they are business women to the bone.

Before seeing The Killing Fields in Phnom Penh, I wanted to experience the current Cambodian Khmer culture in order to gain more respect and insight before subjecting myself to a glimpse of this relatively recent blight on human nature. The bus ride to Siem Reap gave me a window view of people living in wooden huts and alongside green fields of rice. The water buffalo cool off in the flooded lands near the people's huts, and the often naked children play, bathe, and fish with nets in the same waters. It was apparent that this country was very poor and back to the roots of civilization.

The town of Siem Reap has been revamped for the tourist industry. Vacationers spend the days being driven around in tuk tuks viewing the ancient Angkor Wat temples, relaxing in the highly european cafes drinking lattés, eating in comfortable restaurants, diving into the western nightlife, and avoiding child beggars, amputees, and ladyboys. People stay for 3 days. Get in, buy the t-shirt, get out.

Angkor Wat is a collection of temple ruins from the Khmer Empire existing between the 9th and 12th centuries. The ruins have become a massive tourist attraction, and have recently been made more famous by the filming of Angelina Jolie's movie Tomb Raider, featuring the twisted tree at Ta Prom temple. The jungle has reclaimed many of the ruins, where massive tree roots have uplifted and wound themselves into the ancient stone buildings. The ruins are filled with children sent by their parents to sell souvenirs, clothing, and constantly harass visitors for much-needed money. Unfortunately this really takes away from any spiritual feelings these temples may have. I did meet a young girl who was the exception in all Angkor Wat. Self-named Crazy Girl Kwan followed me through the last temple on my first day trying to sell me a tee-shirt and a sarong, but this girl of maybe 12 years old was witty, charismatic, full of humour, and a very good natured kid. We joked and laughed throughout the whole temple, as she greeted any nationality of tourist in their own language. When denied money, most schildren turn their backs and quickly forget about you, but Kwan was interested in talking, enjoying life, and smiling that perfect Cambodian smile. I offered her a very small amount of money if I could take her photo, to which she agreed. She then pulled out a cheap ring from her purse, gave it to me (no charge) and told me never to give it away to anyone else. I returned the next evening to bring her a Canadian pin and a little extra money, because she really is a fantastic and exceptional human being. Her brothers and sisters were also excited to see me again, and not once was I asked for money... they just enjoyed the jokes, the laughter, and the company. These were the real Cambodians.

Unfortunately, an earlier experience at one of the temples showed an ugly side of desperation. While photographing ancient doorways at the edge of Pre Rup Temple, a little girl suddenly ventured through and asked for money. I said "sorry", and she replied with "Ok, boom boom"? She was offering her body in exchange for my money. I then offered her some small change if I could take her photograph, at which point her younger sister also appeared in the doorway with an initially mistrustful look on her face. After I'd taken a couple of photographs, I noticed their older brother lurking in the background. These, unfortunately, are also real Cambodians. I hope this remains a rare exception for my experiences in Cambodia.

Between Phnom Penh and Siem Reap. Woman cycling amongst a herd of cattle!


Siem Reap, Cambodia. Crazy crazy amounts of rain doesn't deter anyone from getting anywhere!

Angkor Wat. Again, the trees tangle amongst the ruins.

Pre Rup Temple, Angkor Wat, Cambodia. This little girl peddles her trinkets everyday at the temples. I caught her acting upon her frustration by throwing her goods into the wall after she thought she'd disappeared from sight after I wouldn't buy any from her. It is impossible to help everyone, and it is also questionable whether buying their trinkets even helps them at all since their parents force them to sell in the first place. It is scary to consider what may be this beautiful girl's future.

Pre Rup Temple, Angkor Wat, Cambodia. Woman leading her cattle through the ruins.

Ta Prom Temple, Angkor Wat, Cambodia. These roots of these ancient trees seem to flow like liquid amongst the ancient stones of these temples.

Ta Prom Temple, Angkor Wat, Cambodia. These roots of these ancient trees seem to flow like liquid amongst the ancient stones of these temples.

Angkor Wat, Cambodia. This fearless little girl races along on her oversized bike with an oversized smile on her face.

Angkor Wat, Cambodia. This girl isn't big enough for this bike, yet she manages to ride it along the road and through mud puddles... and we force our over-protected kids to wear neon vests and helmets.


Ta Prom, Angkor Wat, Cambodia. This is the famous tree. Really really touristed, yet this photo still doesn't do it justice. I would have liked to see Angelina Jolie perched up on the roots!

Angkor Wat, Cambodia. Carved creatures on the walls of the Temple of the Leper King.

Bayon Temple, Angkor Wat, Cambodia. The ancient temples were amazing, but lacked the mystical vibe that was readily apparent in the Tikal temples in Guatemala.

Angkor Wat, Cambodia. The Temple of the Leper King and the walls of carved faces!

Bayon Temple, Angkor Wat, Cambodia. Doorways upon doorways through the temples.

Neak Pean Temple, Angkor Wat, Cambodia. You gotta love war! One of many amputee mine victims playing in a band and begging for money.

Banteay Kdei Temple, Angkor Wat, Cambodia. My tuk tuk driver, and Crazy Girl Kwan (in the red and white shirt) and her family and friends. If you ever go to Angkor Wat, please stop by and tell them Rob From Canada sent them!!! These are the most amazing kids from Angkor.

Pre Rup Temple, Angkor Wat, Cambodia. This is Eelie and her younger sister. Moments before taking this photo, Eelie had offered to sell her body to me for sex. Her older brother lurks in the background.

Roulos Group, Angkor Wat, Cambodia. Monk walking out of the temples.

Beng Melea Temple, Angkor Wat, Cambodia. This temple is far out, and relatively isolated... the motorcycle ride through the countryside was amazing.

North of Siem Reap, Cambodia. Typical cyclist carrying goods. This is the future of transportation if our developed world doesn't smarten up...!

North of Siem Reap, Cambodia. Woman tending her rice paddy on a lonesome road.

North of Siem Reap, Cambodia. I'm not sure this load would pass by the transportation regulations in North America.

North of Siem Reap, Cambodia. Slow moving bamboo.

North of Siem Reap, Cambodia. Water buffalo and rice fields. This is a typical view in the countryside of Cambodia.

Banteay Srey Temple, Angkor Wat, Cambodia. A beautifully and intricately carved temple.

North of Siem Reap, Cambodia. Hanging the washing out to dry... over a pond!