Phnom Penh: New Orleans in a Jungle Kingdom: Day 1

I'm still not sure how New Orleans became the analogous city for me when thinking about Phnom Penh. It's got characteristics of both Berlin and San Francisco, which are very similar cities in their own rights (temperament; pulsating heart), and New Orleans is like those two, only with a flair and oppressive weight. In New Orleans the heat is oppressive as well as the specter of the institution of slavery and physical subjugation and oppression is still noticeable. New Orleans, though, because of its character, seemed poised to have been able to, up until Hurricane Katrina, be ahead of the curve and ahead of most southern cities in regards to integration and psyche-recovery from slavery.

Phnom Penh is vibrant and muggy, like New Orleans. Phnom Penh is full of Khmer people who vividly and viscerally remember the oppression of the Red Khmer, the murderous and destructive regime lead by Pol Pot, but because of their temperament and character, they seem well poised to be ahead of the curve of some of the other Southeast Asian cities in regards to facing their past and learning from it and moving on.

So...

We left the boat dock and started walking down an esplanade towards an area of town that was centralized and full of hotels and guesthouses according to our guide book. We did not have reservations anywhere, but figured that we'd be able to find a place.

That turned out to be true, as we found reasonable accommodations, dropped our stuff off, and headed out for a bite to eat and try to figure what we could get done on that first day. When we left California we had only three nights booked anywhere in Asia: the first night in Can Tho and the 29th, 30th, and 31st in Siem Reap (the Angkor staging city). As it was now just afternoon on the 28th, and we were staying until tomorrow afternoon, how much of Phnom Penh could we realistically get to?

As luck would have it, we were approached by an English speaking Khmer tuk-tuk driver at the (locals only) restaurant we stopped in for that bite to eat, and, after getting over some reservations and realizations about the reasonableness of the prices, we hired Visal Mao to be our personal driver. After this first day we arranged to meet with him the next morning, and between those two meetings and the maybe ten hours we were with Visal we got to know him rather well and he told us as much as he could about the Khmer people and Phnom Penh and the Red Khmer, and much more.

Here's a shot from the tuk-uk on that first day:

The first place we went to was the so-called Russian Market. It was one of the biggest "covered" markets in Phnom Penh, and, like any good Asian market, it had its very own neighborhoods. Food stalls over here, jewelry over there, clothing and paintings and trinkets everywhere in between. The following picture, while blurry, shows how the sun peaks through the various covering styles:

The place was caled the Russian Market because it had been the main market that the Soviets used between the '50s and '70s, and the name, once derisive in nature, had stuck as the market grew to the status iof true rival for title of the city's biggest.

Afterwards, since we're pretty bad consumerist tourists, we were off to a solemn and powerful place: the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum.

Also known as S.21, for "security office 21" in the inter-office memorandums, Tuol Sleng had been a high school in the center of Phnom Penh. When Pol Pot and the Red Khmer came to power, they vacated the cities and moved everyone into the rural areas to enhance the nations agricultural clout. Phnom Penh was a ghost town.

But, not S.21. The former high school was converted into a detention center, and from 1975 to '78 saw an estimated 20k people pass through the place on their way to be either killed or tortured or both. Now Tuol Sleng is an important tourist attraction and a reminder for the Khmer of today: Complacency lead to the evils that caused this place, and we must never let that happen again.

They face that everyday.

So, immediately on entering you see these kinds of signs, basically telling you this shit ain't funny:

Here's a typical room that had been converted into an "interrogation" room. Corrie's looking at the photograph on the wall that shows an inhabitant from that very room, and you may be able to see that they're laying on a sheet on that metallic cot only:

From the third floor of one of the complex's buildings you can see how it certainly does resemble a high school:

In many rooms they have photos of the enemies of the state that were brought in and "dealt" with. Here's one seriously dangerous looking enemy. Better be careful of those nine-year-olds:

This next picture shows barbed wire strung up over the openings of this particular three story building. In fact, it's all over the entire place. I remember thinking, what the hell? Then I read the sign: the barbed wire was for keeping the "poor souls on the upper levels from throwing themselves over the rail and committing suicide." Uhh, whoa:

If you've ever left the trail on a trip to Alcatraz and gone off on your own and found some creepy vibes, imagine taking those creepy vibes, distilling it down to a powder and then snorting it for an hour and you might be close to Tuol Sleng. I asked Corrie what she wanted to do later, go strangle some puppies? Drown a bunch of kittens? You try to temper what you're trying to do--enjoy vacation while learning--with some of the actual activities--checking out the tools and sites of a torture prison--and find the balance.

That place was pushing those limits, but I'm glad we did it; it affirmed the Khmer point of view: this history cannot ever be forgotten.

From there, as dusk was falling, Visal took us to two monuments lined up on a grand boulevard. The second, which shows up first here, is one celebrating the birthday of the highly popular and recently deceased king. At this spot I watched as a group of tiny Khmer girls asked Corrie for a picture, not that they could take be in a picture she took, but if they could get a picture with her. I tried to photobomb the picture, but that wasn't necessary--they wanted me in it too.

The next is the independence monument, but since it's at the center of a large roundabout and nobody's allowed up on the landing, we kinda sped by:

Visal dropped us off and agreed on a time and place the next day. On that day he would tell us about himself more and about the history of the city, and show us places tourists never get to, which is what we're all about.