THE KILLING FIELDS

I visited the Killing Fields in Cambodia. Before going I was expecting something deeply touching, moving, disturbing or life-changing. Meeting other backpackers enroute to Phnom Penh (Cambodia's capital) I heard all kinds of horror-stories. People brought to tears, needing a time-out, never seen anything like it, couldn't believe it, haven't been the same since, etc, etc. So I braced myself for the worst. Knowing virtually nothing about the Khmer Rouge or Pol Pot Regime, and having never seen the movie The Killing Fields, I did my best to read up a little on the subject.
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Pol Pot was the Prime Minister of Cambodia and ruler of the Khmer Rouge (an extreme Communist Party) from 1976 to 1979. Aiming for a Communist future he used his short period in rule to 'purify' Cambodia. Instigating an aggressive relocation program, anyone considered intellectual or 'bourgeois' was shipped to the countryside and eventually killed. Doctors, teachers, anyone with glasses or an education, or suspected of having been influenced by the West was soon exterminated. Buddhist monks and ethnic minorities were also killed.
Out of an eight million population, Pol Pot's regime exterminated almost two million. This was done in the most brutal and primitive methods you can imagine, with often times children doing most of the killing. Horrendous torture was carried out at the S-21 camp and hundreds of thousands of people were shackled and forced to dig their own mass graves (later to become the Killing Fields) as their country fell apart around them.
Eventually Pol Pot led Cambodia into a disastrous war with Vietnam, untimately leading to the collapse of the Khmer Rouge.
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When I finally got the Killing Fields I was surprised. From this one small patch of land alone thousand of bodies were excavated and it's still not complete. But what surprised me most was the beauty and tranquility I sensed. Home to disgustingly brutal murders of men, women and children, it looked more like a park than an execution site. Before the war it was an orchard and the day I visited was warm and bright with only a slight breeze. The crater-like holes in the earth just seemed unusual and not unpleasant. And even noticing pieces of bone and clothing sticking out of the earth, I still felt no real shock or sadness. I started thinking there must be something wrong with me to be so apathetic about the whole thing, but then guessed that maybe my natural defences weren't allowing me to realise the actual horror of what happened right where I stood. There is a memorial on the grounds in which eight thousand skulls are stacked on shelves according to age and sex. I was the only one in the building when I entered and was face to face with piles of skulls with not even a glass screen to separate us.
After a couple of hours wandering around here, I went to the S-21 musuem. An old school which was turned into a torture centre for the Khmer Rouge. Everything had been preserved from that terrible period and it is home to horrific tales. Stains on the walls and floors and rusted instruments of torture accompany hundreds of photos of victims and torture. But even here I felt very detached from what had happened and what I was seeing.
I'm very glad I went, but it scares me so much to know what we as humans are capable of, and have done so recently.

SO THIRSTY

Well, Ash Wednesday followed Pancake Tuesday this week and Lent has commenced. For the sixth year in a row I'm off the sauce. No alcohol 'til Easter. Forty days and forty nights, just like Jesus. But with the exception of St. Paddy's day of course (I'm Irish, Jesus wasn't).

I gotta say though, it doesn't get any easier. I thought it would with each passing year, but it get's harder. Especially here in Japan where most socialising is alcohol orientated. Even at the office parties there is a lot of peer-pressure, mostly from the Principal, to drink and drink a lot. Cries of 'But it's my religion', are always met with mocking and slurred replies of 'Religion smeligion', so it's best just to stay at home.

And to make things worse, the lack of recreational drugs over here makes Lent seem twice as long. Hahaha, that's just a wee joke Mum and Dad. They're not lacking, they're just far too expensive.

Usually back home or when I was at University I would get some half-arsed attempts by friends or family to also try giving up this vital food group. Of course it never lasted more than a week or two, but through their failures I somehow gained strength. This year, however, I'm completely on my own and I've still a bunch on bottles in my 'liquor cabinet' (ie. next to my instant noodles). So I'm putting up the two posters here to remind that;

1) failure is not an option, and

2) it's not cool to give babies booze. even if it's only beer.

But I've got a bad feeling this year. It's only Day 3 and I'm whinging about it already.

Wish me luck.

THIS WEEK'S SNAPS

I busted my ankle so haven't been able to board or do any excercise this last week or so. But I went out and took some random pics to keep myself amused/sane.

One of my students plays by the river after school.

Kuriden Line. The one line railway in my town.

From my apartment stairs. It snowed for a couple of days, then melted.

No snow on the rice fields. A farm house in my town.

My favourite little park in Kurikoma.

Snow on Mount Kurikoma, but not in town.
The park at night.

FIVE IN THE MORNIN'

I got up at five in the morning last wednesday. Yeah, five in the morning. I drove forty minutes in the snow. It was five in the morning. I drove to a lake. At this lake, every morning thousands of swans, geese and other birds from Siberia supposedly wake up and take off together. It's meant to be an impressive site. I didn't see any birds take off and it was not impressive. And I got up at five in the morning. What a gyp!

Before sunrise

After sunrise. Lazy birds didn't move.

BUDDHA BABIES

Out for a dander.
Another temple, another graveyard.
First time I've seen these Buddhas.
Buddhas with babies.
They're everywhere in this place.
Maybe it's a special graveyard.
Maybe they were on sale.

PLASTIC BAGS

I think Japan is the most wasteful country I've been to. Wrapping, packaging, aluminium cans, PET bottles, disposable chopsticks and plastic bags are endlessly and generously distributed to the (seemingly) uncaring customers.

Of course, I know traditional attitutes in this country put strong emphasis on gift giving and on beautiful (often multi-layered) gift wrapping, so I won't be too judgemental.

However, I was pleasantly surprised at what I seen on the news last week. One of the bigger supermarket chains has started charging for their plastic bags at their Kyoto branch. This is following government pressure and the threat of future fines. The supermarket reported excellent results with no loss in profit. Over a one month period the percentage of customers bringing their own (reusuable) bag rose from 27% to 77% (or something like that). I think this is great, but also a little sad that people won't bring their own bags until you start charging them 5 yen (2 pence) and bag. Other branches and soon other supermarkets are expected to follow suit.

BUS CRASH

The roads aren't paved. Not even on this busy route from Siem Riep, Cambodia to the border for Thailand (see picture). But our mad-as-a-hatter driver (and I know he's mad) still races along at break-neck speed. Our speed seems hugely multiplied by the bumps being directly transferred to the passengers via the uncushioned seats. I have my ear plugs in. But still the windows rattle so loudly and so aggressively that I'm genuinely worried about losing my boyish (girlish?) good looks if the glass explodes in my face. We're passing all kinds of traffic in this strange desert-like land. Looking out the machine-gun sounding window it seems we were in Africa, not Asia. Motorcyles cruise by with live pigs, chickens, bags of rice, crates of Coke and other assorted sundries securely harnessed on.

Pick-up trucks with human cargo returning from a days work stare at us reminding me how far from home I am.Sitting on the passenger side I have a good view of the madness ahead. But I choose not too look for the most part, saving my heart attack for another day. However I do see the black Toyota up ahead, stopped at the small bridge. It catches my eye because it's quite a nice car, rare in these parts. I'm still looking at it as our driver hits the breaks. Still looking as the driver realises the brakes don't work. Still looking as the other passengers start to see and the women begin screaming. Still looking as our idiot driver swings the wheel sharply to the left, seemingly away from the car and into the river. As people catch sight of the river the screams grow louder, now men are also shouting. Lucky for all of us our driver is too slow. We smash into the back of the Toyota (with a family of seven inside), knock it out of the way and roll towards the river (see pictures). We lose just enough momentum and come to a hault about 2 meters before the river bank. Almost tipping, we slowly exit the bus, passenger side first, to make sure we don't tip. My seat, next to the (unopening) window, with 3 people on my right would have ensured I got squashed and trampeled on before drowning, so I'm very relieved to be getting off this bus. Amazingly no one was hurt.

And two hours later, we were back on the same bus heading for the border.

Cambodia, every day is an adventure.

Photos (from top): the Toyota we hit, main road, traffic passing our stopped bus, where the bus lost momentum.

KG MADNESS

Waiting.....waiting.....waiting.....

'AH, MA-KU SENSEI DAAAAA!!!!!'

The wait is over.

'It's Mark Teacher', screamed one of the four year-old kindergarten students. The first one to site their prey never wastes any time in launching the attack.

A thunderous stampede of tiny, but powerful feet rush to the school entrance, where I'm racing to get my jacket off and indoor shoes on. I've got a bad feeling today. I know they're going to get the better of me.

And sure enough, by the time a dozen of them have gathered around my ankles screaming, smiling, laughing, groping, climbing, I'm already losing balance. With one shoe only half on, my usual ninja-like agility is compromised. 'Oh no', I hear myself half laugh, half cry as I tumble towards the bikes. Staggering and pushing to ensure none of the rug-rats get squashed between me and the unicycles I've just fallen into.

On the bright side though, none of the other teachers saw, so my dignity is still intact. Only me and the kids know, and no-one would believe them anyway.

MEKONG RIVER

I wanted to do something different on my recent trip. So instead of taking a bus or plane from Vietnam to Cambodia, I took a slow boat up the Mekong River. This has been one of my most enjoyable journeys to date. Of course travelling in Veitnam and (especially) Cambodia has it's problems and obstacles. Poorly organised travel, dangerous vehicles and shady border crossings all require a bit of patience and the right frame of mind. But regardless of this, spending two days travelling up this busy artery and into the heart of Cambodia really was a pleasure. It felt like an insight into how these people live away from the tourists. Where the water is their life and their life is on the water.

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Housing along the busy part of the Mekong

Housing along the quiet part of the Mekong A typical bridge. This pregnant woman laughs at the crazy foreigners.
Dumb tourist.

A farmer drags his livestock down for a cool bath.
All the kids waved and shouted hello.
There's no retirement age out here.

CAPTURING THE MOMENT...

...or ruining the moment?

As much as I love taking photos, writing about my travels and sharing stories, sometimes I don't love it so much.

This dawned on me at the Angkor temples. One morning I found myself spending ages trying to take the 'perfect photo'. Different angles, with flash, without flash, different settings, camera upsidedown, etc. Walking around with my camera constantly in my hand. Later that afternoon my batteries died. This was a blessing in disguise. Following my initial disappointment at missed opportunities I learned to enjoy my new independence. Soon I was properly immersed in the Angkor experience. Forgetting my trigger-happy ways I was able to enjoy the experience without thinking about trying to capture it.

No waiting for people to move out of my frame. No wondering if I should come back at sunset to shoot in better light. No staring at my compact chunk of metal and glass instead of the ancient ruins all around me. Just plain immersion in this unique experience. Wandering around and letting my thoughts flow without the constant interuption of my digital companion.

Sometimes I find myself so pre-occupied with capturing a moment, an image, an experience, that I'm forgetting the whole purpose of being there in the first place; to enjoy the moment.

MEKONG DELTA

Friendly locals planting new rice.

Sludge dredging all around the Mekong. An elderly lady works amonst the reeds.Friendly kids always ready to smile.
A fisherman shows off his impeccable balance.
Shacks beyond the rice paddies.
Making silk scarves by hand. Doesn't look like fun.
Boats of all descriptions everywhere.
Curious local.

SCIENCE PHOTOGRAPHY

Here is an x-ray of a piranha from South America.

I felt it was relevant to my blog.