Final Thoughts... 2004

Perhaps not surprisingly, I got the impression that having a sense of humour about things is important to Cambodians. Exploring Cambodia by bike, the highlights weren’t the scenery, which was beautiful, but the people I met. The highlight of the day I spent in Krache, a town on the Mekong River, was not the freshwater dolphins we’d gone there to see, but an afternoon spent in the local hairdressers, getting a shave and a bad haircut, chatting to the staff and other customers.

Similarly, the highlight of Saen Monourom, the provincial capital of the hilly Mondul Kiri province, bordering Vietnam in the East, was not the waterfalls or the rolling hills, but the afternoon I spent sitting in the garden of my guesthouse, chatting to the Cambodian guests, being taught the Khmer words for cigarette, lighter and “give me a kiss” (to much laughter).

Hobbling up and down the lakeside area, trussed up in bandages, my status as resident invalid during the week after my crash was a constant source of amusement.

“You very bad driver,” was the general synopsis, always delivered with a mischievous but warm smile.

Walking around places like S-21, or the seeing the hundreds of skulls on display in the infamous Killing Fields, it is hard to match up such scenes to my own experience of Cambodia. But what becomes apparent when you start speaking to people is the sheer scale of what happened. Everyone over the age of about 30 has memories of that time, and was involved in it in some way. Everyone has lost relatives and loved ones. Even the people born after that time have been affected by the corruption and insecurity left behind. Given the scale of the trauma and massive disruption to family and social networks, it is perhaps a wonder that Cambodia is not still tearing itself to pieces.

Despite, or maybe because of this, the lasting image of Cambodia for me is of people who are blessed with a level of kindness and appreciation that was truly humbling. Goodwill was everywhere, from the open affection given to children, to the generosity shown to complete strangers. Attacked then neglected by the outside world, betrayed by their own political rulers, people here seem determined not to become defeated. They look out for each other and they keep on smiling.