DREAM OF CAMBODIA

Between one and two million people were killed during the Khmer Rouge war in Cambodia. It is appalling to hear about my parents' experiences, the sadness, and pain they endured during those years before, during, and after. They witnessed traumatic events of families and friends being captured, tortured, and even killed right in front of their eyes. These memories are so traumatic that no matter how much they try to forget, it is unforgettable. To this very day, they are haunted by these memories and continue to have nightmares and flashbacks throughout the night. My father forces himself to wake up during the night, when he knows it is a nightmare, but he can't begin to forget how he felt during that time.

In March of 1970, a riot broke out in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, while Prince Sihanouk was out of the country. The government was later overturned by General Lon Nol. Later that year, a communist movement known as Khmer Rouge (Red Cambodian) began to push and disturb the government of Gen. Lon Nol. My father was sixteen at the time and lived in the Province of Sisophon. While he was in eighth grade, he joined an organization called Commando. It consisted of 300 students who trained to protect the school against the Khmer Rouge. For the safety of the people, everyone had a curfew of 8:00 p.m. After that time, my father and other students guarded the school until morning. Every student who was part of Commando had a gun and took turns resting. During some nights, the Khmer Rouge terrorized, robbed, and shot at homes in the community.

My father met my mother and married in 1974, then moved to the Bathambong province. The Khmer Rouge took over Cambodia on April 17, 1975, after the Cambodia Republic gave up protecting the country. Most were forced out of the cities and taken to the countryside to begin the aggregate society that Pol Pot wanted to implement. Grandparents, parents, and children were all separated from each other. They were put into different locations where they were forced into labor fields with little to eat. The Khmer Rouge were very strict and punished many who weren't compliant with their rules and were subject to be tortured or even taken to the killing fields to be killed. My dad was forced to wake up at dawn and work all day until dusk with little to eat. People were given minimal to nothing for meals which mostly consisted of rice and water. Many suffered from malnutrition and some even starved to death. After the workday, each person was assigned a location, where they had to report back to in order to sleep. The Khmer Rouge stripped everyone of their belongings. My father was only given a black shirt and a pair of pants, which he wore everyday involuntarily, no matter how dirty or ripped they were.

One day during the fall of 1975, the Khmer Rouge had a meeting and the normal workday was called off. My father was able to arrange contact with people near the border of Thailand in attempts to help him escape. My mother decided to stay behind in the village and my father planned to come back for her after he escaped. For about three miles, my father and his three friends crossed the treacherous terrain between rivers and farms until they met his friend from Thailand. Fifteen other people met there in plans to escape also. They were very careful to designate a person to keep a watch out every time they stopped to rest. Once while my father's friend was keeping a watch out up in the tree, he noticed ten Khmer Rouge soldiers approaching from a half-mile away. After he gave the signal, everyone split up in different directions. "I hid myself in the rice field quietly and nervously waited for my fate," my father said. That day, most were caught except my father. They were brought back to the village and punished. When it was dark and quiet, my father walked back to the village in fear of being captured alone. In the morning, the people that were caught were questioned and tortured to death. Among the people that were caught, one man told the Khmer Rouge that my father had been with them. The Khmer Rouge ignored his statement and killed him thinking he was dishonest. Another individual in the group had the same name as my father and had already been caught. It didn't cross the Khmer Rouge soldiers mind that there may have been more than one man named Seng, my father's name. After my father witnessed the tortures, it changed him. He felt as though it was he that was dying, and that no spirit or soul was left in his body. The guilt he felt still haunts him to this very day.

In 1976, my older brother was born and my parents were reunited. Although reunited because of the birth of their child, they were still forced to work in the rice fields. Due to starvation and malnutrition, my older brother died two years later in my father's arms. Not only were my parents suffering from the turmoil of the country, but also they now had to cope with the loss of their first-born child. There is no other pain that will ever compare to the loss of a child. It is a traumatic event that will never leave their memory.

After four gruesome years, on January 8, 1979, the Khmer Rouge were finally being pushed and forced out by the Vietnamese army, and a new government was led by Heng Samrin. It became absolute chaos in the entire country of Cambodia as everyone went in search for their loved ones and family members while simultaneously trying to return to their destroyed homes. The cities were completely destroyed and unmaintained. The revolution began to restore life back in the country and my parents were able to rebuild their lives and were graced with my presence of my birth in December of 1979.

When I asked my father to describe life during the war and his response was, "Life was worse for humans than it was for animals! At least animals had the freedom to move around, be with their offspring, and have the freedom and mobility to find food. Life during the war for us was worthless, because I didn't even have a choice or say in anything, I had to follow orders or die, it was as simple as that." Everyone in the world but especially in America takes freedom for granted. However, the saying goes true, "you don't know what you have until it's gone." Until your freedom and sole existence is stripped from you, you will never begin to grasp the concept. When I was younger, my parents would keep telling me to work hard, I realize now to not set my goals short or give up easily, I must keep reaching for something better because as humans, we are capable of so much more. When pushed to the full extent of survival, humans are designed to prevail. After interviewing my parents for this anecdote, I feel a sense of pride and integrity tremendously toward their hardships and endurance throughout their whole lives. I realize that whenever I suffer pain, it could never be as painful as the pain that my parents have endured. Now, I will always try to remind myself not to complain about the small things in life, to enjoy every moment for what it's worth, and to live as though tomorrow can be stripped away in an instance. The purpose of this anecdote isn't for sympathy; it is a sole reminder of the struggles and experiences we all as humans endure. This serves to provide hope and inspiration to pursue life and the power of faith and hope, because without faith and hope, we are merely left with empty souls.