We had to be on the road at 7.30am once again, as we had so much to pack into this day. But while we saw and experienced a variety of things, from prisons, palaces and pagodas to rivers and ferryboats and even a change of country, there was one thing that stood out, and something that will stay with me for a long time to come. That was our visit to the former Tuol Sleng Prison (also known as Security 21, or S-21) which chronicles the Pot Pot years in Cambodia and was our first stop for today.
Just a note: While I did take photographs of the prison cells and detention rooms and these are shown in this blog, I have not included any photos of the many victims, or their remains. I am sure my written descriptions will be horrific enough. The victims were fathers, sons, brothers, sisters, mothers, daughters. They were living, breathing people whose lives were so brutally and tragically cut short by an evil regime. Their photos do not belong in a blog on the internet to try to garner “likes”. There is nothing to like at all about man’s inhumanity to man.
We arrived at the former prison just after 8.00am. The buildings were originally a secondary school which had been commandeered by the Khmer Rouge in 1975 as a means of detaining people for interrogation and confessions (most of which were false and extracted by torture). The classrooms, with their distinctive checked tiled floors, had had bars and barbed/razor wire added to the windows, and the PT equipment (such as the high bars) in the former school yard had been turned into gallows. It opened to the public in 1980 as a museum and war memorial.
Roughly 15,000 prisoners were admitted to S-21 and only seven are known to have survived. As we entered the prison grounds, one of the first things we saw was the list of rules that had been drawn up by the prison commandant, Kaung Kek Ieu, known by the revolutionary name Comrade Duch (pronounced โDoikโ). Below is a photo of the original hand-written list, followed by an English translation:
DISCIPLINE OF THE SECURITY
- You must answer according to my questions. Don’t turn them away.
- Don’t try to hide the facts by making excuses about this or that. You are strictly prohibited to contradict me.
- Don’t pretend to be ignorant, for you are a chap who dares to thwart the revolution.
- You must answer my questions immediately without wasting time to reflect.
- Don’t go on about your minor mistakes or infringements of the moral code or on the essence of the revolution.
- While getting lashes or electrification you must absolutely not scream or cry out.
- Do nothing, sit still and wait for my orders. If there is no order, keep quiet and when I tell you to do something, you must do it right away without protesting.
- Don’t make pretext about Kampuchea Krom in order to hide your secrets or your betrayals.
- If you don’t scrupulously follow all of the above rules, you shall get many lashes or electric shocks.
– For every infringement, 10 lashes or 5 shocks.
We entered one of the former classrooms which contained an iron bed frame in the centre of the room. The bed frame contained chains and leg-irons to which the prisoner was shackled. There was a also a bowl for the few spoonfuls of rice they were allowed a day, and a box which was used as a ‘toilet’. On the wall was a photograph showing the iron bed occupied by a shackled prisoner. It was on these beds that the prisoners would also be tortured with electric shocks.
We then continued into another room that contained hundreds of photos of men and women, many of them holding numbers in front of themselves. The victims had been photographed as soon as they arrived at the prison; they did not know why they were there or what was going to happen to them; they were simply told to stand and “look straight at the camera”. You could see the bewilderment and fear in the many eyes that seemed to be looking directly at us from these walls of photos.
Further along in the room, the photos become more distressing. They showed people during and after torture and even death. There were just too many of these photos.
We walked into another of the large classrooms that had been divided by crudely-constructed brick walls into tiny cells, no bigger than the average shower cubicle. Outside each cell was a plaque containing details of who had been detained in each cell. The cells were horrific; one of them still had blood stains on the tiled floor.
We went outside into the sunshine. There was a high-bar which served as a gallows and means of torture. Prisoners would be hauled up onto the bar, sometimes upside down, then lowered head first into barrels of water before being hauled up again. One of the survivors of S-21 was a man called Vann Nath who was spared because of his ability to paint. Many of his paintings depicted the horrors that went on at S-21.
There was a large billboard sized black and white photo showing the seven survivors; Mr. Vann Nath is the third one along in the photo.
The first man shown in the photo is Mr. Chum Mey, a motor mechanic. He was also spared death because he could repair typewriters and sewing machines.
Back inside the museum we continued. We have been to Auschwitz in Poland and it is absolutely horrific, but I would say that Tuol Sleng Prison is equally as bad. But the striking thing about the Pol Pot and Khmer Rouge years in Cambodia was that they didn’t happen in the 1940s. They happened in the late 1970s. At the fall of the Khmer Rouge in 1979 I was 18 years old and working. I can clearly remember the daily news reports from Phnom Penh, and the John Pilger documentary called Year Zero. The worst of it is, it could easily happen again. As Brian so succinctly put it “The only thing we learn from history is that we don’t learn from history.”
Walking around this museum had not been pleasant. But the worst was to come. In the final building we were confronted with actual human remains. Not photos, actual human bones. There were glass fronted cabinets filled with human skulls, as well as boxes containing long bones. It was truly horrific. I looked on in disbelief, breathing heavily and swallowing hard a few times.
It was a relief to be outside in the sunshine once more. We followed our guide, Moonie, along to where one of the survivors (the first man in the photo, above) Mr. Chum Mey, was selling copies of his book, Survivor. Mr. Chum Mey is 95 years old. He signed copies of his book and allowed us to have our photos taken with him.
Once we’d all purchased our books and had our photos taken, it was time to return to the coach. I looked at my watch; 9.00am. Had we really only been in the museum an hour? It had seemed unbearably longer than that. But that hour is something I’ll remember for a long time.
Soon we were all back on the coach again, for our next visit to the Royal Palace. Like Thailand, Cambodia is a monarchy; the current king is Norodom Sihamoni, who became king in October 2004, after the abdication of his father. As we neared the palace grounds we spotted portraits of the previous queen (the current king’s mother, Queen Norodom Monineath) and everyone on the coach marvelled at her likeness to the late Queen Elizabeth II.
The coach parked up and we all alighted, and followed Moonie into the palace grounds. The Royal Palace was built in 1860 and is still the official residence of the King, as such, many of the buildings are closed to the public, and we could only look inside from behind a roped-off entrance. The palace gardens were immaculately landscaped lawns, trees, and bushes, and it was a pleasant place to walk in. It was just what we needed following our visit to the genocide museum.
As we walked around in the hot sunshine, admiring the gardens and the architecture, we came across several stray cats. There must have been a lot of cat-lovers in our party (including Trevor and me) because several of us stopped to photograph the little furry waifs and stroke them (if they’d let us). On one table, there was a veritable ‘clowder of cats’; two gingers, a tortie and a black one. They were all roughly the same size so we concluded that they were from the same litter.
After our visit to the Royal Palace, Moonie said we would have a brief visit to the Wat Phnom Buddhist temple which was not far away and was too nice not to go. You can read about the legend associated with Wat Phnom, and indeed the whole city of Phnom Penh, in this Wikipedia article.
Moonie then rounded us all up and back onto the coach, as it was now time to make our way to the restaurant for our last meal in Cambodia. The restaurant was very conveniently situated right at the ferry terminal, and our fast passenger boat was due to depart at one o’clock, to take us along the Mekong and into Vietnam, a journey of about three hours. As we left the coach, we gave our driver a decent tip; he’d certainly been worth it.
We arrived at the open air, riverside restaurant around 11.45am and took our seats before ordering the inevitable large Angkor beer. We were amused to see that the restaurant was called “Titanic”; hopefully this would not turn out to be prophetic.
We enjoyed the usual array of rice, soup, tempura battered catfish, chicken and vegetables and the conversation was lively and animated. Moonie came around to see everyone; he had been a knowledgeable and amusing guide and we’d enjoyed his company a lot. We gave him his tip and I took his photo with Trevor. In the meantime, we were introduced to our Vietnamese guide, whose English name was Kevin. He would be coming with us on the boat and would be with us until the end of our holiday.
Around 12.50pm, we left the restaurant and started to make our way towards the embarkation point. We had been assured that our luggage would be taken from the coach and loaded onto the ferry for us, to be taken straight to our hotel in Chรขu ฤแปc, for our first night in Vietnam.
As we stood at the bottom of the landing stage, we had to wait for all the existing passengers to disembark first. Then we walked along to the wooden gangplank and boarded the ferry. Some of our group made a beeline for the outside seats, but we had a three hour journey ahead of us and we worried that it might rain, or be windy, so we went inside, where the seats were in blocks of three. We’d been told that it was three seats for two persons, in order to give us a little more room.
Soon the ropes were cast off, the engine speeded up, and the boat set off down the mighty Mekong. It would be around two hours before we reached the border, and in the meantime we just had to relax and enjoy the journey.
In one way, it was a little like being on an aircraft. They came around with a selection of cold drinks; I had a Cambodia beer while Trevor went for a Tiger. Then they came around again a meal box for us. We weren’t too hungry after our substantial lunch, but thought we’d eat something later, especially as we wouldn’t get any dinner until maybe seven o’clock tonight. The meal boxes contained banana, orange, hard-boiled egg and some pastries, as well as a small bottle of water.
We continued on down the river, passing under the Tsubasa Bridge, a modern cable-stayed bridge opened to traffic in 2015. At 2.2 kilometres, the bridge eliminated a ferry crossing between Phnom Penh and Ho Chi Minh City and is the longest bridge across the Mekong River in Cambodia.
It was around 3.30pm when we arrived at the ‘Cambodia exit’ station and had to disembark the boat to have our passports stamped to say that we had left Cambodia. It was good to leave the boat and stretch our legs a little bit. We then rejoined the boat; we should arrive at the Vietnam border in around 5-10 minutes’ time, so the next stretch of the river was in No-Man’s Land. ๐
Sure enough, it seemed only a matter of minutes before the boat was once again on the move, and soon we pulled up at the Arrivals port in Vietnam. We disembarked once again, had our passports stamped, then waited in a pleasant room that served as a cafรฉ, currency exchange and shop. While Trevor used the chance to change our Cambodian money into the Vietnam Dong, I browsed a rack with those lovely floaty cotton trousers on them. I purchased a dark red pair; they were a bargain at only 12 dollars. I also bought a chilled can of Diet Coke which went down a treat in the heat and humidity.
Presently Kevin appeared and asked us to make our way back on to the boat again; we should reach our hotel around 5.30pm. The hotel was right on the banks of the Mekong, so the boat would actually take us all the way there.
Soon Kevin pointed out a large, impressive pale yellow building to us; it was the Victoria Chรขu ฤแปc Hotel, our home for tonight.
We had had a long (and, at times, harrowing) day today so we couldn’t wait to reach the hotel and spend the evening relaxing. Once we arrived, we disembarked the boat and made our way towards the front of the hotel. We had spotted one of our suitcases on the boat; we hoped the other one was around somewhere. ๐
Inside the hotel, we were given the traditional welcome drink and cold towel as we waited for our room key. We saw the luggage being brought in and saw our second suitcase with a sigh of relief. ๐
Once again, our allocated room was wonderful. It overlooked the front of the hotel and the busy street below, and it had a large window as well as a small balcony. The room was tastefully furnished in dark wood and had wooden flooring and velvet curtains. It also contained a sideboard, large chair and coffee table. It was lovely.
It only took a couple of minutes for our cases to arrive, and we had but one thought it mind; the swimming pool. We quickly donned our cossies under our clothes and made our way to the pool, which was at the rear of the hotel adjacent to the river. It was already starting to get dark, but it didn’t deter us from sliding into the cool water.
As we swam around, we were joined a short while later by Tony, who is from Stockton, about 25 miles from where we live in Durham. No-one else came down, which we were quite surprised about since the pool seemed to be the main attraction at our previous hotels. As we looked to see if there was a pool bar so we could order a welcome beer, it was with dismay that we discovered the pool closed at 7.00pm, early indeed.
We therefore climbed out of the water and sat for a while on a sunlounger, drying off a little. Then we made our way back up to our room, got changed into clean, dry clothes, and rested for a while.
We had a look on Google Maps to see if there were any pubs or bars around where we could have a drink or something to eat. At the moment we weren’t really very hungry, as we had eventually eaten some of our meal box on the boat.
Around 8.30pm we left the hotel and started to walk up the street in search of a bar. The roads absolutely thronged with traffic, mainly motorbikes and scooters; you were taking your life in your hands every time you crossed the road, because vehicles would not stop for pedestrians, even on a zebra crossing.
As we wandered through the chaotic streets, we saw lots of busy cafรฉs where locals were drinking soft drinks, smoothies and bubble tea, but we couldn’t see any beer anywhere. Maybe the locals aren’t very big on alcohol. As we walked along, we spotted Brian and Clare on the other side of the road, who were also looking for somewhere to have a drink. We were lucky enough to see a break in the endless stream of traffic, so we took the opportunity to run across the road and join them. ๐
After wandering around for a while, we saw a place that had tables and chairs outside. Brian asked the proprietor if they had beer, and the lady said yes, they had Tiger. This was welcome news, but not for Clare as she is not a beer drinker, and the cafรฉ didn’t serve wine, so she had to make do with a glass of water.
We enjoyed our beers, sitting there in the balmy night air, and we spent some time talking about the events of the day. We then decided to find somewhere else, because this place was not exactly jumping. It was a far cry from Pub Street in Siem Reap. ๐
After walking around a bit more, we heard music, and soon we came across an open-air place where there were a lot of locals eating and drinking, and a band playing music on a makeshift wooden stage. We saw that there was beer on the menu, so we each ordered a can. Clare lucked out again, and once again just stuck to water.
Afterwards, we decided just to go back to the hotel, as there wasn’t much going on around here. In any case, we had discovered that most places closed at 10.00pm (including hotel bars!) so we wanted to be back in time for a nightcap.
We therefore returned to the Victoria hotel and went out onto the bar terrace overlooking the pool and the river. They had a good cocktail list, so Clare and I ordered a mojito each while Trevor and Brian stuck to beer.
Afterwards, we said our goodnights and returned to our lovely room. It was a pity we’d only be staying here one night. In fact, all of the hotels had been wonderful so far.
We got ready for bed and I read for a while before settling down. The coach wasn’t leaving until 8.30am tomorrow, so we had a lie-in. We’d had a long and emotional day today, but despite this we slept very well, and looked forward to exploring Vietnam tomorrow.