C'est la vie

Unlike many Americans, I've never had much of a problem with The French. Have had good times in France and met lovely people. I've certainly sampled enough of their wine to get some sort of honorary mention above the standard "Americans suck" opinion. I'm particularly fond of the French today. They occupied Cambodia for many years and left behind some killer things. 1) A street system/grid that is both marked and navigable. I walked all over Phnom Penh today with the help of nothing more than a tourist map and my decent sense of direction. Not only did I not get lost, I got exactly where I wanted to go. 2)The croissant and the baguette. 3) REAL COFFEE. As soon as I got to town and got a room, I proceeded immediately to the nearest cafe and had an iced coffee and a croissant. After 2 weeks of nescafe instant crap in Thailand, real coffee was such a treat. I think I ate the croissant in 3 bites (with surprisingly good marmelade) and proceeded to order a baguette to follow. "Wis ham or chees?" "just plain thanks. Yes, just the baguette." After nothing but noodles, stir fries and curries, just the baguette was all I needed. 4) Colonial architecture. It's everywhere, in varying states of decay/use/restoration. Some of the hotels on the riverfront are beautiful.

Today has been a day of high highs and low lows. I arrived here early and was checked into a guest house and on the town by 10 AM. Immediately I liked this city. It's far more easy to navigate than bangkok and aside from the tuk tuk touts and beggars, people are a bit less in your face. There are no 7-Elevens (which are on every corner in Thailand); there are hardly any ATMs. There are bicycles (I saw exactly one in almost 2 weeks in Thailand). Parts of the city are nice looking. The market is great....I finally did some shopping and *think* i got a good deal on a bit of jade and silk. I even managed to find the shopping mall where I bought a new camera, so I'll have photos of Angkor Wat at least.

Things were going well and I was in a really good mood. I told myself not to ruin it. I really grappled with the decision of whether or not to visit SR-21. I was having such a good time...but I decided to go. I just finished a book about the labor camps, starvation, killings, etc. and it was too much in my head to not see it. I could tell by being in town for 3 hours that the national psyche is fucked; people will do anything for a buck because they dont know any other way. People are also my age or younger. I can count on one hand the # of people i've seen today that are over 40 years old and the look they carry around with them speaks volumes.I was prepared for all this. I'd visited a wat and knew there would be beggars, amputees, Pantless 5 year olds with their 2 year old brothers on their backs...they were out in full force and while it was definitely more in your face than Port Authority at 10 PM, I knew how to just walk on by.

What I did not know how to do was deal with the 60 second insanity that hit me when my tuk tuk pulled up at Toeul Sleng Genocide Museum. The fare was 3 bucks (USD is all they use here) and I had a 5 dollar bill or 2 singles. Of course my driver didnt have change. In the 3 seconds it took for us to establish the fact that I needed to hop out and cross the street to get change, I entered something of a nightmare. Instantly and practically INSIDE my tuktuk were stumps - elbows, wrists, knees, ankles - literally shoved in my face from both sides. I dont know where they came from but it was like something out of Night of the Living Dead - except it wasnt. It was real. I had entered the vortex of beggars and felt like I was in Jesus Christ Superstar (see my eyes i can hardly see). The amputees were everywhere and I was starting to feel like I couldnt breathe, and getting increasingly pissed off at my tuk tuk driver who could have easily talked to one of his boys and made change for me. I was about to just tell him to keep the 5 when I heard something of a moan/scream and there was an empty hat in my face amidst the stumps. I looked up, ready to tell the owner to piss off; i wasnt giving him any money, but instead i had to look away because I almost instantly threw up. The owner of the arm had a face mauled by either napalm or gasoline. One eye was completly white and near his ear; his nose was a hole where it didnt belong and I looked away before I saw the rest of him. I also screamed something along the lines of "NO! get out of my way" as I jumped out and ran across the street to get change trying not to puke. I really didnt mean to be a bitch but I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. To my right was an institution of the worst crimes against humanity - which I willingly came here to see - and to my left were its living victims. "What the fuck am I doing here" definitely crossed my mind about a hundred times in 30 seconds.

SR-21 takes about 30 minutes to see. I opted not to hire a guide because I really couldnt bear to be there longer than needed; I knew I had to reserve the right to bolt at a moments notice. What I saw there was unspeakable. What I saw outside, and my senses heightened, what I continue to see along the river tonight, will haunt me for years.