Cambodia in the rainy season is cool(er), verdant, and
lush. Rice paddies swell, cinnamon-hued
roads soften to mud, and the jungle creeps in a bit closer. After the thrashing madness of afternoon
storms that stop as suddenly as they start, motodups and tuk tuks cruise around
crater-sized puddles in Phnom Penh in the post-deluge quiet. People emerge from behind doorways and the
streets begin fill to with activity again.
In the same way, thirty-four years after the fall of the
Khmer Rouge and the end of a collective national nightmare of genocide and war,
Cambodia is getting back on its feet. This
summer I am lucky enough to have the opportunity to play a small role in these reconstruction efforts as a legal intern at the Documentation Center of
Cambodia (DC-Cam). As an organization
dedicated to recording the Democratic Kampuchea (Khmer Rouge) era, DC-Cam
variously serves as the world’s largest archive on the Khmer Rouge and as a
source of research, outreach and education surrounding the genocide. The organization has been integral to helping
Cambodian society cope with the aftermath of the genocide and understand and
digest the ongoing trials at the Extraordinary Chambers of the Courts of
Cambodia (ECCC). This is critical in a country that is becoming known abroad
for its temples rather than its war history, but where there is still obviously
both the need and desire for justice —a tension visible in the split
personalities of rapidly developing Phnom Penh, my temporary home.
The Lonely Planet Cambodia edition from 1991 (available at
the National Library here) suggests a total of two available hotels in Phnom
Penh and lists the Central Market as the only reliable place to procure a meal---that
is, assuming you could even get a visa to enter the country. Today, the city bristles with air conditioned
coffee shops offering lattes that cost $2.50 and free wifi---popular with expats stopping between yoga class and
a swim at a hotel pool. Outside the city, the countryside is a traveller’s
dream of good roads connecting temples, jungles and beaches, staffed by tiny
old ladies in checkered scarves hawking mangosteens and Vietnamese iced coffee. At the
same time, Cambodia remains shackled to its past. Cambodian soil still holds
between an estimated 4 and 6 million land mines that were laid during the 1970s. Trials at the ECCC grind forward, but maybe
not in time to offer survivors the full benefits of truth and accountability. This spring, Ieng Sary, co-founder of the
Khmer Rouge and one of the accused in case 002, died at age 87 while awaiting
trial at the ECCC. Ieng’s death dealt a
frustrating blow to a tribunal already mired in delays and allegations of
political meddling, and increased the sense of urgency in trying the remaining
accused who also are largely of advanced age and in failing health. As a Leitner Center report from 2011
chronicled, the country also faces a tremendous mental illness burden that is
the result of poor treatment options and the scars of genocide—fissures that
remain hidden from most foreigners visiting the country.
As an outsider and newcomer, trying to decipher Cambodia is as
beautifully reflexive as the correct response to sok s’bay (Khmer for “how are you”---literally meaning “healthy,
happy?"; the answer also being sok
s’bay) and as complicated as giving good directions to tuk tuk drivers (extremely).
For more information about the Documentation Center of
Cambodia, visit www.dccam.org.
