Blue lady blog

One night I stayed very late to watch a documentary called “Schindler’s List,” produced by Steven Spielberg in 1993. The movie explicitly shows the horrendous persecution on Jews in Poland. The World War II exterminated around 6 European Jews all over Europe while the movie details the arbitrary shooting from German soldiers over Jews, old or young. As a foreign person exposed to some German history, I feel vicariously ashamed of the brutal deeds done to innocent people, just like what the Khmer Rouge soldiers in Cambodia did to Cambodians.

While watching the film, I suddenly thought about death. Why was life in war just a matter of seconds? With no hint, I began to panic and paced around my bedroom. Letting go a good cry, all the flashbacks came to the moment. I remember specific things I did when I was 7 till 22. They were about my activities at school, such as sitting down and imagining my future. When I was 12, I thought how cool it would be to become 16 years old. But when I was 16 years old, I didn’t feel awed by the age. Sadness, happiness, disappointment, distress and whatever positive or negative feelings I have encountered, make me more vulnerable to thoughts of death in the future. I have constantly told myself again and again that I will not be able to hold on to hope that before death, I will have achieved spectacular things. Trying not to sound ridiculous, that night I finally came to a conclusion. Only ‘immortality’ will keep my feelings alive. In many Chinese movies, the greedy kings forced people to make immortal medicine for them, so they could enjoy life much longer. For me, I only want to enjoy work, fun and feelings (good or bad).

A friend on Facebook suggests that I forget about the certain destination and concentrate more on the journey I am taking. I certainly couldn’t bring myself to this reality: life but taxes is certain. Panicking got me further; my heart started to beat noisily in my head; time to me passes so quickly nowadays. So, I thought that 40/50 years to go to come will be very short. I have had many things in mind, countless good memories, lots of experiences with my life, impeccable love from my parents. How can one accept less than a much longer life? I shamelessly want immortality to see the whole world. If I could, I would make every life, especially my parents’ intact of death and aging.

I could only sit down and grieve over this. My friends have kept telling me that perhaps I have jumped from adolescence to adulthood, which might explain this unpleasant and scary phenomenon. For sure, I’ll graduate this summer (July). I had never feared death, at least psychically, except this one time. I was a chicken, trapped in this cage. My destiny has been set: I’ll have my end some day.

With this blog post standing visibly online as a piece of a personal history, maybe in 50 or 60 years, it’ll remind everyone of me. But will I still feel myself existing. I dread not feeling anything like pain or suffering, not to mention happiness and laughter. I wish there’s a utopia at the end that will wait for me. I don’t have a faith that God exists. I am a Buddhist or an atheist in a way. Clinging to this hopeless dream, I’d rather not focus too much on the destination. The end will be the end.

KK

By Chan Sovannara

Under the sunshine while many modern vehicles such Lexus, Camery, and motors of the latest design are driven on the streets, a Cambodian traditional two-wheel vehicle dragged by two oxen, moves slowly in a speed of walking. Out of date, it may be seen, along with the presence of modern technology, let alone the ox-cart used as transportation for business.

Chean Cheily, 21 years old from Kompong Chhnang province, forcing his white oxen with a whip, is riding through the city centre with his ox-cart overloaded with pottery and crafts made of clay.

http://www.parish-without-borders.net/cditt/cambodia/dailylife/2007/graphics/cart2.jpg

Such a normal scene of ox cart used for business can be seen sometimes overloaded with pottery or accessories. His ox-cart stops many times while calling for any prospective customer. His fragile products are laid on a thick layer of yellow straw on the cart to avoid cracks or break.

Ox-carts still carry its popularity till today. In the past, it was the sold transport to carry Cambodians and goods from place to place. Selling pottery products on the ox-cart like Chheily, was historically conducted in the ancient period, and especially from those native in Kompong Chhnang, famous for making craft products made of clay. [Kompong Chhnang means the port or place of pot.]

Some of Kompong Chhnang boys normally spend their time during the dry reason riding their ox-carts to crowded places of Cambodia to sell pottery such as water pots, vases, cookers, pans, and other souvenir stuff – all are made of clay. Whenever their products sell out, they will immediately come back to their home province.

Chheily is a seasonal seller on his ox-cart. He normally works on rice fields in rainy reason and starts selling on the cart in dry reason. [Each season lasts for six months.]

Now struggling far away from his hometown and spending four days and nights selling his clay products in Phnom Penh, Chheily says he has been on his selling mission twice to Phnom Penh and once in northwest Siem Reap.

“I can get more income in Siem Reap which is too far from my hometown. It takes me almost a month to arrive there by ox-cart,” says Chheily, who now can been seen on his ox-cart in Phnom Penh.

Chheily has to drive his cart on the road and stops whenever someone calls him for any purchase. Sometimes, callers just see around the products on the cart and go way without buying anything. He says that he does not mind it ever since he has started selling along Phnom Penh streets.

However, danger from such a lonely journey with his ox-cart does not leave his mind. He does not own a house in the city nor is able to afford a guest-house, let alone rent a hotel. As a mobile seller, he sometimes sleeps alone on the cart in a strange place, and has to get up to check his belongings and products several times a night.

“I’m really scared with this adventure, but luckily I never meet any trouble. I always pray for good spirits to protect me. My friend used to be beaten for money. If we do not give them money, they will break our stuff on the cart,” says Chheily.

“We have to give them money if we want to come back home alive.”

“I do not want to do this kind of business, but I have no choice. I left school in grade 8 in my province,” he says.

Besides the security issues, raining is also the main problem for Chheily trying to sell his products made of clay. He has to cover his cart with a big plastic, sitting and waiting for the rain to go away with a pathetic sight of covering his soaking-wet body with a traditional scarf.

Products which he sells are from whole-sellers in his village who accept deposits. Chheily occasionally earns 20,000 riel per day or nothing at all. He says he gets a commission from any product in between 500 or 1000 riel. And that money almost goes to support his everyday expense, and sometimes leaves none for his family.

Aside from selling products on the streets, he takes them to market but sells in a rather reasonable price accepted by retail sellers. However, it is difficult for him to keep a good relation with those retailers because they can hire trucks and motor-carts to buy similar products.

In the city, ox-cart businesses are banned on small streets as they can block the way, and are usually seen at the outskirt where the traffic is not less hectic. With the ever-changing rule in the city, Chheily says he has to re-consider selling his products in the city, but going on his traditional work is seen as a pride to him.

“It is the hardship I always meet, but I have to bear with difficulties so that I can bring some money back home,” says Chhiely. “I also want to carry on this tradition, because without my ox-cart, I will not be me.”

After spending three weeks in Germany last year, I didn’t expect to come back to this country once again. I always like the country, as much as I want to study there. Before boarding, as usual I felt extremely nervous about the flights. I never had any bad or good omen but just anxiety about plane crashes. (Sorry, I’m now at Sovannaphum airport, and I don’t want such a thing to happen to me then.) Fortunately enough (or as simply as it should), my friends and I landed safely on the German land where I could see ‘ green’. Ooh, so so green, that’s our first impression word. I thought I was in paradise, except that I knew I was alive, breathing. It’s summer in Germany but it rained a lot a few days after we arrived in Munich. We went to our training centre located in Feldafing, Munich, (Bavaria State).

It’s a different sort of feeling from the last time, of course. I felt like I could spend the rest of my life at the area. The small flowers of differrent colors could be seen from the field (photos next). I always imagined such a view, and now I could have it. Amazing, wasn’t it? Feldafing is a small little town in which I was told only rich and wealthy Germans (a large number of millionaires and billionaires) are residing. That wasn’t like what many Asians think about how an area for the rich should be. It is quiet, peace and serene, one could never find in metropolitan areas such as Phnom Penh or Bangkok (aren’t they?). Several alumni participants did give words of praise about the area. I was always thinking that I could spend the rest of my life over there.

In Munich (7 days), we went on our schedule by starting with a tour to differrent memorial sites dedicated to various resistance events against the Nazi regime/Adolf Hilter. We met a suvivor of the White Rose resistance group against Hilter. To me, he was just like Chum Mei, Bou Meng, or Vann Nath. It was good to listen to stories told by him as a prisoner of conscience. However, he was more lucky than his Jewish friends of the resistance who were beheaded by the Nazi soldiers. Isn’t it sad? Next days were spent visiting the Munich court, prosecutor, “Dachau” concentration camp. I could go on for hours describing my experience over there…but I never forget to compare what I saw to what there is in Cambodia. All I could say is that Cambodia has a long long way to go. What symbol should I use to emphasize this sentence? None, I think. Maybe you wanna know why I came to Germany this time. I was selected as one of the 23 participants to attend this Khmer Rough Tribunal Fellowship Program that tries to promote justice and reconciliation through capacity building. Of course, I always felt lucky to be chosen considering to less exposure to or experiences with the Khmer Rouge Tribunal.  

Off to Nuremberg now (2 days). Right there, we visited the former court of Nuremberg Trials that prosecuted the former Nazi leaders, one judge association, and at last the documentation centre which I could say is way much bigger and more modern than the Documentation Centre of Cambodia (DC-Cam). I know quite well that the DC-Cam has worked so hard on the Khmer Rouge matters, only to demand more support from differrent key players such as the government and donors.

Berlin is a very vibrant city, I dare say. I felt very safe and secure though at the beginning, I didn’t trust the city after a friend got robbed in a hotel lounge. I understand that insecurity is everywhere, but this time it was just different. People I met are very nice, helpful and friendly. It is very difficult and not right to make a generationalization about one nationality, city or country itself. The most interesting for me is the efficient transport. I could never get lost with this ability to speak English and to read the map given for free!! What we did in Germany for nearly a week was visiting memorial sites of the Jews killed in the Nazi regime, psychological (treatment) centres for victims, the ARD broadcast company, and the amazing Jewish museum that hosts great architectures to represent pain, suffering and emotions of the Jews in the Holocaust. There are times I think that Pol Pot did learn and use the techniques Hitler had used during the war: Isolation and Extermination of one’s race. Yet, these two guys went off the wrong way, and slaughtered so many innocent lives. You love your life, but why take others’  if you are bored with yours? There were so many questions popping up in my mind after witnessing places and stories told about legacies of the regime.

Time to stop here. I did see a lot but not enough yet. I’m fascinated by the synergy of the youth and the efforts in bridging the gap between ages in Germany. Ages just don’t matter, do they? They are all equally important to develop their country. The exhibitions about the German history I saw initiated my interest to start one small exhibition about the Khmer Rouge regime, and I hope this will bring together young people with different talents to make this possible. This, too, will show that the young are ready to accept the suffering of the old generation. It is still a dream to be realized, and I’ll see when it will be.

Besides all lessons learnt, I did have some fun:

-touring the whole city and going to different tourist places: Reichstag…

-dancing Tango with a friend

-shopping

Photos will come next.