Today was our first day off in a few days so we were all keen to explore the bustling metropolis of Phnom Penh. I had experienced a rotten night involving ice packs, Sprite and incredible uncomfortability as my fever reached new heights. By the time the morning came, the insides of my hotel room were the last things I wanted to view. We were after all in the fantastic Phnom Penh! I raced down to the internet cafe to load the last couple of blogs (as the dutiful World Vision rep that I am) before joining Craig, Victoria, Fiona and Gary in a tuk tuk - yes I did just say 5 people in one tuk tuk. In Cambodian terms that is traveling light.
We spent a couple of hours at the Genocide Museum. It is difficult to begin to explain how intensely heart wrenching this establishment was. The museum is made up of a series of buildings that once housed a school. That is until Pol Pot's regime decided to turn the school into a relentless torture centre intent on commiting heinous acts on behalf of such enormous evil. People, both Cambodians and foreigners alike, of all ages from infancy up were transported here during Pol Pot's reign of terror to be tortured to death.
We walked the halls of this school in absolute silence. Room after room seemed speak without hesitation of the gruesome acts that once occurred. Torture instruments lay openly before us alongside photos depciting their use. We walked past literally hundreds of pictures of children who had been murdered at this site. Each picture involved the child looking directly at the camera. Broken, haunting eyes staring directly at the camera, seemingly resigned to what was to come. Knowing that the time to help one of those children has long come and gone the question that I had to ask was 'how do I honour their memory?'I realised that perhaps the greatest way would be to do two things: 1. Continue to invest into the lives of Cambodians 2. Play my part in being part of the contingent of those who speak up and act when such atrocities as the Pol Pot regime take place.
I couldn't help but think of the number of gross acts of injustice that occur today without the intervention of those who could and should intervene. There is a responsibility with knowledge and to be honest there is a responsibility to obtain knowledge and not remain ignorant and therefore complicit in allowing evil to occur. In leaving the museum I had to decide to not carry the heaviness of depression but rather to carry with me a renewed sense of justice.
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