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Phnom Penh, Cambodia; day 11, Tuol Sleng
I began the day with a trip to Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum (also known as S-21). The museum was about a 15 minute walk from my hotel, so I kept my camera out and made some images along the way:
I cannot stress how common it is to see very small children riding on the front of motos like this. Sometimes they were wedged in between adults in the middle of the bike, but often they were up front like this little girl.
I cannot stress how common it is to see very small children riding on the front of motos like this. Sometimes they were wedged in between adults in the middle of the bike, but often they were up front like this little girl.
Street vendor selling corn on the cob. Many mobile food vendors use squeakers (that sound like dog toys or the old fashioned bicycle horns) to let people know they are coming (similar to an ice cream truck, but louder and more annoying). Between that, the honking horns of motos and cars, and general sounds of people living and hawking their wares, there is always a moderate to high level of ambient noise on the streets.
I'll be honest- I initially wasn't going to go to S-21. I thought my trip to the Killing Fields had given me a good general overview of the devastating effects of Pol Pot's regime. However, almost everyone I met that learned it was my first time in Cambodia asked me I had been to S-21 yet. I thought that might be an indication I was missing out on something I should experience.
They were right. I didn't like what I saw, but I'm glad I went.
The prison was captured in 1979 by the Vietnamese Army. While the troops were closing in on the city, 14 prisoners were being tortured to death inside S-21. These scenes were photographed as evidence against the Khmer Rouge, and those photographs now appear in the cells where the victims were found, along with many of the original instruments of torture.
Those dark spots on the floor are bloodstains.
I'll be honest- I initially wasn't going to go to S-21. I thought my trip to the Killing Fields had given me a good general overview of the devastating effects of Pol Pot's regime. However, almost everyone I met that learned it was my first time in Cambodia asked me I had been to S-21 yet. I thought that might be an indication I was missing out on something I should experience.They were right. I didn't like what I saw, but I'm glad I went.
The prison was captured in 1979 by the Vietnamese Army. While the troops were closing in on the city, 14 prisoners were being tortured to death inside S-21. These scenes were photographed as evidence against the Khmer Rouge, and those photographs now appear in the cells where the victims were found, along with many of the original instruments of torture.Those dark spots on the floor are bloodstains.Meticulous records were kept on everyone that came through S-21. Prisoners were photographed upon arrival and often after being tortured. While many of those records have been lost or destroyed, there is a good deal that has been preserved and is on display at the museum. One of the most emotional for me was wall after wall of portraits of people who were held here. Some estimates say around 30,000 prisoners passed through S-21 in the 4 years it was operational as a torture and detention center. Of those, only 7 are known to have lived.
This poem describes life under Pol Pot's new regime. (Poem by Sarith Pou in Corpse Watching)
The text reads:
This poem describes life under Pol Pot's new regime. (Poem by Sarith Pou in Corpse Watching)The text reads:No religious rituals.
No religious symbols.
No fortune teller.
No traditional healers.
No paying respect to elders.
No social status. No titles.
No education. No training.
No school. No learning.
No books. No library.
No science. No technology.
No pens. No paper.
No currency. No bartering.
No buying. No selling.
No begging. No giving.
No purses. No wallets.
No human rights. No liberty.
No courts. No judges.
No laws. No attorneys.
No communications.
No public transportations.
No private transportations.
No traveling. No mailing.
No inviting. No visiting.
No faxes. No telephones.
No social gatherings.
No chitchatting.
No jokes. No laughter.
No music. No dancing.
No romance. No flirting.
No fornication. No dating.
No wet dreaming.
No masturbating.
No naked sleepers.
No bathers.
No nakedness in showers.
No love songs. No love letters.
No affection.
No marrying. No divorcing.
No marital conflicts. No fighting.
No profanity. No cursing.
No shoes. No sandals.
No toothbrushes. No razors.
No combs. No mirrors.
No lotion. No make up.
No long hair. No braids.
No jewelry.
No soap. No detergent. No shampoo.
No knitting. No embroidering.
No colored clothes, except black.
No styles, except pajamas.
No wine. No palm sap hooch.
No lighters. No cigarettes.
No morning coffee. No afternoon tea.
No snacks. No desserts.
No breakfast [sometimes no dinner].
No mercy. No forgiveness.
No regret. No remorse.
No second chances. No excuses.
No complaints. No grievances.
No help. No favors.
No eyeglasses. No dental treatment.
No vaccines. No medicines.
No hospitals. No doctors.
No disabilities. No social diseases.
No tuberculosis. No leprosy.
No kites. No marbles. No rubber bands.
No cookies. No popsicle. No candy.
No playing. No toys.
No lullabies.
No rest. No vacations.
No holidays. No weekends.
No games. No sports.
No staying up late.
No newspapers.
No radio. No TV.
No drawing. No painting.
No pets. No pictures.
No electricity. No lamp oil.
No clocks. No watches.
No hope. No life.
A third of the people didn't survive.
The regime died.
No religious symbols.
No fortune teller.
No traditional healers.
No paying respect to elders.
No social status. No titles.
No education. No training.
No school. No learning.
No books. No library.
No science. No technology.
No pens. No paper.
No currency. No bartering.
No buying. No selling.
No begging. No giving.
No purses. No wallets.
No human rights. No liberty.
No courts. No judges.
No laws. No attorneys.
No communications.
No public transportations.
No private transportations.
No traveling. No mailing.
No inviting. No visiting.
No faxes. No telephones.
No social gatherings.
No chitchatting.
No jokes. No laughter.
No music. No dancing.
No romance. No flirting.
No fornication. No dating.
No wet dreaming.
No masturbating.
No naked sleepers.
No bathers.
No nakedness in showers.
No love songs. No love letters.
No affection.
No marrying. No divorcing.
No marital conflicts. No fighting.
No profanity. No cursing.
No shoes. No sandals.
No toothbrushes. No razors.
No combs. No mirrors.
No lotion. No make up.
No long hair. No braids.
No jewelry.
No soap. No detergent. No shampoo.
No knitting. No embroidering.
No colored clothes, except black.
No styles, except pajamas.
No wine. No palm sap hooch.
No lighters. No cigarettes.
No morning coffee. No afternoon tea.
No snacks. No desserts.
No breakfast [sometimes no dinner].
No mercy. No forgiveness.
No regret. No remorse.
No second chances. No excuses.
No complaints. No grievances.
No help. No favors.
No eyeglasses. No dental treatment.
No vaccines. No medicines.
No hospitals. No doctors.
No disabilities. No social diseases.
No tuberculosis. No leprosy.
No kites. No marbles. No rubber bands.
No cookies. No popsicle. No candy.
No playing. No toys.
No lullabies.
No rest. No vacations.
No holidays. No weekends.
No games. No sports.
No staying up late.
No newspapers.
No radio. No TV.
No drawing. No painting.
No pets. No pictures.
No electricity. No lamp oil.
No clocks. No watches.
No hope. No life.
A third of the people didn't survive.
The regime died.
{March 20, 2009 12:48 PM} Joanne Bartone said: your post is powerful. so powerful it makes my heart ache. i have tears in my eyes over this post. i find myself wondering how "human beings" can be so in-human, so frequently. how does one, or two or many decide that torture and killing is their call? how do people move over to such darkness so easily? how do we (the world) allow this to happen so often? why does it take so long to stop the suffering? how can we, as humans, as individuals make a difference so these horrific acts won't keep happening. i am so sad...
{March 20, 2009 12:48 PM} Joanne Bartone said: your post is powerful. so powerful it makes my heart ache. i have tears in my eyes over this post. i find myself wondering how "human beings" can be so in-human, so frequently. how does one, or two or many decide that torture and killing is their call? how do people move over to such darkness so easily? how do we (the world) allow this to happen so often? why does it take so long to stop the suffering? how can we, as humans, as individuals make a difference so these horrific acts won't keep happening. i am so sad... you have conveyed the weight of this time very well through your images/this post. bravo.