We decided to return to Phnom Penh so we joined a large group heading in that direction. It took us a week to make the trip. Before leaving, we stopped by the camp warehouses and stocked up with rice, fish and other supplies. Everyone came in and took what they needed.
The trip was uneventful but when we arrived we found the city closed because the Vietnamese were still organizing the government. Everyone who returned stayed in the suburbs in the many houses that had been vacant all these years. There were a lot of houses to choose from since many of the former residents had been killed working in the fields. Everything was broken in our house. All the furniture had been moved out by the Vietnamese, loaded onto trucks and transported back to Vietnam.
My mother, two brothers and I remained at Phnom Penh about three months. We lived by trading with others for things we needed and also by growing a small garden of tomatoes and potatoes. Sometimes we traded gold to the Vietnamese for food and clothes. There were not many jobs available and they controlled things.
The Vietnamese brought trucks for those who wanted to work on farms and for other jobs. No one was forced to work. The Vietnamese would also move families who wanted to relocate. The people worked their gardens and kept what they produced.
Many people, including my brothers and myself, acquired things we needed for our use or for trade by raiding the city’s warehouses at night. The city was without leadership and I guess you could say we were stealing, but we did not feel that way. The items belonged to the people before and now none of this really belonged to anyone. It was like the beginning and everything had to be distributed.
Before we went on the warehouse raids, we always discussed our plans in a group. We decided what we wanted to take so we could all go to the same area. A guide who knew the route went with us. He had a map with the positions of the Vietnamese guards.
Each warehouse contained different items – nothing but TVs in one, fans in another and so on. The most popular goods taken on these raids were plastic tarps to keep the rain off, clothes, sewing machines and bicycle parts.
Bicycle parts were very valuable. The parts most in demand were handlebars, chains, wheels and tires. A complete bicycle could be traded for two hundred kilos of rice.
The trip took about two hours. Before we entered the main part of the city, we stopped, had some food and rested a while. Even though it was easy to take the goods, we could not waste time. We had to get in and out quickly. All the things we took, we carried in two baskets. Each basket hung on the end of a bamboo pole and was placed across the back.
Sometimes we made a lot of noise and woke up the guards who were sleeping. They fired their guns and we ran for cover. We stayed in place until our hearts returned to normal. Then we continued like rats, sneaking into the city and down the unlighted streets as quietly as we could.
If the Vietnamese caught you, they kept you in jail for about two weeks. They questioned you and explained why you should not steal. Prisoners were held at the city’s sports stadium.
If they caught you again and your name was on file, you were held and educated for a longer period, maybe three months.
But on the way back from a raid, everyone was in a festive mood. They had something they could sell and also had avoided being caught.
We thought there would be no future for us in Kampuchea and decided to leave. Our choice was France because we could speak French and many of our relatives lived there.
We first thought about going to the refugee camp in Thailand but heard about people being killed by mines and the Khmer Rouge. This caused us great concern, and we abandoned the idea.
We decided to go to Viet Nam since France had an embassy in Saigon and we could get visas there. My older brother and I went to the market one day with material to trade for food that we would need on the journey.
On the way I saw my cousin who was walking on the other side of the street. I called to him and he stopped to look, not really sure it was me. He was very happy to see me after all these years and asked about my mother.
I told him where she lived and he asked to see her. So my brother took him to our place and I continued on to the market.
When he saw my mother, he broke down and cried because he remembered when she looked so beautiful only four years ago. Now she had aged so much it was too much for him to bear.
There was a lot of crying that day as the emotions were strong and we thought of the way things used to be. And even though the ordeal was over, we could never return to the old life.
My cousin told us that he would find a way to take us to Viet Nam. We could stay with his family in Saigon.
But first he had to make another trip to Saigon for the Vietnamese. When he returned he would meet us at Suay Rieng, which is near the border with Viet Nam in Southeastern Kampuchea.
While waiting for our cousin, we sold furniture and other things we would not need for gold. We had to get permission from the Vietnamese commander of the city to move to Suay Rieng. We told him that was our former home. Mother decided to stay in Phnom Penh.
To transport our supplies we built a little cart of wood and motorcycle wheels. After three days we arrived in Suay Rieng and abandoned the cart and some supplies there. Our cousin met us and took us on a small mountain path to the border.
After resting at the border for a few days, we took a ferry across the Mekong into an unpopulated part of Viet Nam. From there we took a bus to Saigon. No one asked for papers. We stayed with our cousin’s family about two months while we tried to get visas through another cousin who worked in the emigration business, but she could only help my youngest brother.
We eventually raised enough money for me, my older brother and my cousin to make the journey back across Kampuchea to the refugee camps in Thailand.
We took a military truck from Saigon, driven by a friend of my cousin, across the river enroute to Phnom Penh. The truck was loaded with rice and was stopped several times by Vietnamese and Kampuchean soldiers (allied with Viet Nam). The driver’s papers were in order but the soldiers did not seem to care that much.
After crossing the Mekong by barge, the trip to Phnom Penh took about six hours. The driver turned down a side street on the outskirts of the city and let us off at a pre-arranged stop. Some friends met us and took us to their apartment, where we stayed for two nights.
And once again, this time forever, we left Phnom Penh in another rice truck bound for Battambang in the northwestern part of the country. People go there to trade in the marketplace for goods from Thailand.
We spent one night there and the next night we walked to the town of Sisophon, near the Thai border. After we rested all day, we made our way to the border, again at night. The trip was made with a large group of other refugees because of frequent attacks by robbers, who also raped and killed. The walk took most of the night. No one stopped. It was safer to keep walking.
Everyone had to stop at the border to be cleared by the Free Kampuchean government, which opposed the Khmer Rouge and the Vietnamese – backed government. They were looking for Khmer Rouge soldiers.
We passed and we were allowed to cross the bridge into Thailand. The first stop was the hospital where we were examined and then processed into the refugee center by the Red Cross.
A year later my brother and I were given the opportunity to come to America. We are now going to school and someday I hope to bring the rest of my family here.
Note: The new name of the country is Kingdom of Cambodia or Cambodia. The local short form is Kampuchea and the local long form is Preahreacheanachakr Kampuchea. Cambodia is the name used on the U.S. Department of State website.
(Visit Tuol Sleng, the Khmer Rouge interrogation center next.)
Part 7: Torture Central
Filed under: Kampuchea
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