It's just over month to go until we're off on a trip to Vietnam and Cambodia. Considering that I've never been to Vietnam, and the Hubs has never been to Cambodia, we thought it would be nice to do a crossover to each other's ancestral homelands.
It's been over 10 years since I visited Cambodia. It was the summer of 2007/08. I had just graduated from uni and my Grandpa, having sponsored him to Australia approximately 10 years prior, had reached about 91 years old. Not knowing how much longer he had left, my Dad thought this would be a good time to take the kids to see the motherland and for my Grandpa to visit home and see the extended family which could very well be the last time. So my Dad booked 5 tickets for himself, my Grandpa, my sister, my brother and I for a months holiday to our native country.
I had never travelled overseas at this point. This was my very first trip to another country, my very first plane ride and a first of many experiences. We had a 10 hour stop over in Singapore on our way over so my Dad hired a taxi for the day to give us a highlights tour of the city. I remember it being very clean, modern and lush but mainly I remembered that wall of humidity from the first step we took outside of the airport.
When we landed in Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia, our first impressions was a whole different story. We all knew that Cambodia was considered a third world country. From our parents' stories, we generally understood that we came from a war torn country, but it's one thing to hear about it, and another to see it with your own eyes. As a first generation Australian who had never experienced anything outside of Sydney, the culture shock was very real.
My very first trip overseas was not glamorous. As a budding 20 year old, one dreams of fun, adventure and parties when you think of travel. This was more of a family reunion, having to follow my family around and meet another distant relative that I probably would never see again.
The streets of the capital was dirty and dusty - we had to wear face masks when riding tuk tuks to prevent it from going up our noses. We were lucky that the relative's house that we were staying at had hot water and working toilets. But, going out on day trips outside of the city meant you would be at the risk of having no access to toilets, with only squatting pans (or a hole in the ground), for hours was very unnerving. I remember wanting to avoid drinking fluids to prevent the need to use the amenities (or lack thereof). And even when there were toilets, the plumbing was not as well built as those back home in Australia, the overuse of toilet paper could mean a blocked pipe. I distinctly remember becoming homesick and missing my bathroom and general hygiene the most.
The trip was an eye opening experience as we learnt about our heritage. One of our first excursions was a visit to Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. What was once a former secondary school, became a security prison used by the Khmer Rouge used to torture and execute prisoners. Walking down the halls and seeing the deplorable conditions the country men were kept in, mugshots of the victims and cabinets full of skulls of those who had lost their lives made for a harrowing lesson of the brutality and suffering that haunts the history of our people. On the surrounding streets you would find beggars with missing limbs who had lost their legs on land mines or street kids begging for money.
In contrast, our trip to Siem Reap, visiting the cultural village and the temple ruins in the Angkor archaeological sites filled me with pride and wonder at the richness of the history of our culture. I grew an appreciation of our traditions and the beauty of the architecture and the intricate art sculptures that adorned the stone walls. Built in the 12th century, Angkor was the capital city used by the Khmer empire which covered much of today's Cambodia, Thailand, Laos and southern Vietnam. At its peak, Angkor was the biggest city in the world with approximately one million in population. Angkor Wat and the surrounding monumental temples scattered across the land goes to show what an industrious, talented and powerful people we once were.
The most pivotal point of our trip was a visit to my Dad's home village in the country side of Prey Veng, which transliterates to 'long bush'. My Dad had not gone back to visit since my Grandma had passed in 1993, so he wanted to go and pay his respects. As per Khmer Buddhist traditions to give respects to ancestors or give blessings we host ceremonies which we call 'bon'. This involves prayers with monks, the burning of incense and provision of offerings. The bon was an open invitation to the whole village to pay their respects. I remember being swarmed by a crowd of faces coming to see us. At the time I was very uncomfortable at having strangers come touch me, but I realise now that were welcoming us as family no matter how distant we may be. They were just so happy to meet us.
After the bon, Dad took us to what used to be my Grandpa's house before coming to Australia, and I guess what was my father's house growing up. I was completely shocked at how rudimentary it was! I knew my family came from a simple farming village, but I was not prepared for the level of deprivation they had once lived. The house, was but a shack made of wood and bamboo which stood amongst the fields of crops and stacks of hay. It was built on what seemed like stilts, which was typical of Cambodia houses, to raise it above flooding waters during the monsoonal seasons. I remember stories of my brother splitting his toe nail as a toddler because he had slipped his toe through the floors of the house. Seeing as though the floors were full of gaps and was not a solid foundation I could understand why. I could literally see through the floor to view the cow that lived underneath! There was no electricity, the kitchen fitted with primitive wood fire stoves. Beds were wooden but more often you would just sleep on a mat on the floor. It was deprived of any simple luxuries that we take for granted.
Growing up as children of refugees may have been tough, but I could not have imagined growing up in the conditions my parents endured. Had my parents not fight so hard to come to Australia, life would have been so much different... if I was even to have a life at all. I have learnt to appreciate all that I have and take nothing for granted.
This April, I will be going back to Cambodia, though this time on my own terms. I may be a tourist and not tied to family this time around, but the lessons I had learnt the first time round will last a lifetime.