You must not cry…

This post is from Rachael Brugger, who lives in Cambodia. Her blog is One UNBELIEVABLE Cambodian Adventure!, where she originally published this post. It describes her initial experience visiting what remains of the Cambodian genocide under the Khmer Rouge.

Also, I'd like to give a quick personal introduction. The movie "The Killing Fields" came out shortly after I was born in 1984. The very first time my parents left me with a babysitter was when they went to see this movie. Sydney Schanberg's New York Times Magazine article about his relationship with his Cambodian friend and photographer Dith Pran had stuck in their minds for the previous few years. My freshman year in high school, one of our assignments was to analyze the context and accuracy of a historical movie. I wrote about "The Killing Fields." I think her post gives a great overview of this traumatic period. ~Leslie

Moving a bit from my what can be considered humorous escapades in adjusting to Cambodian life, I want to touch on a little bit about the country itself. I'm not a history buff, so I'm not going to pretend to be an expert on the things that have plagued Cambodia's past, but I hope to provide some sort of insight to people who might be just as naive as I was about the Cambodian genocide.

My explorations today were both highly educational and emotionally draining. I visited one of the many killing fields scattered around the country as well as S-21, a suburban school that the Khmer Rouge (think of them as the Cambodian Nazis) turned into a prison used for torturing and murdering those they arrested for opposing Ankar. The things I saw today were nauseating -- to think that humans are capable of such sadistic actions. And I think it's unfortunate how many Americans are ignorant about this tiny nation that suffered one of the most brutal examples of human cruelty the world has ever seen.

When I first entered the grounds of Tuol Sleng, the genocide museum set up at the S-21 site, it didn't appear out of the ordinary. Located on a street inside the city, it has a campus of three three-story buildings and courtyards with trees and benches. It looks like a typical Cambodian school.



The first thing that really hit me as I began walking through, was a sign that was posted depicting the rules of the prison. Rule No. 6 read:

"While getting lashes or electrification, you must not cry at all."

It wasn't the fact that they were beating or electrocuting people that struck me, as terrible as those things are. It was the "you must not cry" that really sent a chill down my spine. How inhuman. They wanted these prisoners to move and act like little zombies, like puppets. Like people without dignity or souls.

Those words rung through my head as I walked through the classrooms of Building 1 that were transformed into prison chambers. Each room had a bed where victims were chained and tortured. Some of the rooms still had stains on the floor from blood and the museum placed a photograph in each room showing an abused victims.



Like the Nazis, the Khmer Rouge expertly documented their victims. Building 2 contained an exhibit displaying many of the mug shots of the prisoners. According to a KR report found at Tuol Sleng, more than 10,000 foreign and Cambodian adults and 2,000 children were held at S-21 between 1975 and 1978. Only 7 survived.



Building 3 held some of the actual torture devices used in the prison and outside stood children's exercise equipment, which was used to hang prisoners by their arms until they passed out, whereupon they'd be dipped head first into cold, mucky water so quickly revived, only to have the process repeated. These people were beaten, shot and other things I don't even care to write or think about.

As I solemnly proceeded to the Killing Field located just outside Phnom Penh, I couldn't help but feel tears for the pain these people endured, and yet they had to endure it without tears.



At the field, several mass graves, which once contained the remnants of hundreds of murdered people, surround a monument memorial dedicated to the deceased. Inside the memorial are the skulls of the victims. While display might seem grotesque and unsanctified to those of you reading this, it is an even more controversial issue for the Buddhist Cambodians who feel the remains should not be enclosed in a glass case and should be cremated so that the souls can properly move about, perhaps in preparation for the next reincarnation.



But the display, controversial as it is, burdened me and I'm sure the other visitors as well. To me, it serves not only as a reminder of what happened in Cambodia, but what happened in Eastern Europe and what is happening today in Africa.

Today the effects of the genocide are still visible throughout the country. The people are uneducated. The majority of adults, including those holding government positions, process information at the level of a fifth-grader, and the younger generation, while they are going to college, aren't receiving a degree of much value. People live in poverty, and the poor agricultural technology only contributes to this. And you will hear people say over and over that the government is corrupt. I'm not sure what this means, exactly, but it seems as though moral is low and people have little hope of a better future.

Click here to see Rachael's colorful photos of these survivors' artwork.

Cambodia-Bound: If You're Not Growing, You're Dying

This post is from Nisha Chittal. A senior at the University of Illinois, she works on business development for AIESEC, the world's largest student association, and serves as Associate Editor for CitizenJanePolitics.com. Her blog is Politicoholic. I originally read this post here on Brazen Careerist. Welcome, Nisha! ~Leslie

That is how I made my first ever big post-college career decision this week: by reminding myself of a friend who told me once: “If you’re not growing, you’re dying.”

Well, I started my job hunt. I looked at some really interesting jobs with the federal government, a couple awesome think tanks, a couple political magazines that I love. I started applying for some, but still had this nagging sense of anxiety about the whole thing.

Learning to embrace uncertainty and instability is probably one of the hardest lessons I have had to learn the last few months. Because the one thing no one tells you about graduating from college is that it requires this whole shift in your mindset of the last 15 years: there’s no straight, narrow, certain path anymore. Your whole life is sort of open and uncertain until you make the conscious decision to do something that makes your life more stable (get married, pick a more permanent job, buy your first home…).

And that creates a comfort zone. Things are stable(r). You know where you’re going, which can be great for some people. Probably not for me though.

While I was feeling all this pressure to keep up with my friends and their Big 4 interviews and career fairs and whatever, I had the exciting realization that I have the whole world at my feet and all this time for my own adventures, to really do what I love. It doesn’t have to be scary to have your life seem uncertain; it can be really exciting.

So that is why I stopped my job hunt for now, stopped scouring job ads every day and agonizing over cover letters — for now at least.

Because in June, I am thrilled to be moving to Cambodia. And I’m putting my ass on the line for a startup NGO that I will be working with for 4 months.

(If you want to hear something really entertaining, you should ask me what happened when I called up my parents and told them my decision. All they heard were the words “startup,” “NGO,” and “cambodia.” Three things that make them think: our daughter is crazy. When people tell me I am crazy though — which happens often– I usually take that as a good sign.)

There’s nothing at all stable about it. I am going to pack two suitcases and move to what my parents consider a “third-world” country. There’s definitely nothing stable about working for an NGO still in its first year, that is in desperate need of revenue. I’ve read enough of other people’s cash-strapped startup tales to know that this is a risky decision — but also one I know I won’t regret. Because at the end of the day, I am so excited and passionate about the decision I’ve made. And if you’re not passionate about what you’re doing, why even bother?

I don’t really want stable, I want to live on the edge. I want to take risks with my life, and turn them into huge learning opportunities. I definitely don’t want to look back some day and regret that I didn’t do something crazy when I had the chance.

If you’ve established a comfort zone, it’s easy to just chill there. It’s fun, kind of. But boring. So get out of it — because if you stay there, you’re not growing, you’re dying. If you’re hanging out with the same people, doing the same routine every day — do something new. Do something crazy. Do it because you know you will grow from it, not just for the sake of your resume. And if you don’t want to grow, something is wrong with you.

So yeah, my wonderful, good, stable parents are worried because they don’t know where I’ll end up. And they definitely think that I am “lost” on my way to my real career.

But I have to say… eff destinations. I’m in it for the journey.