The travel day to Cambodia is always a whirlwind. Jumping 13 hours into the future, with 29 hours of travel, we arrive to a climate very unlike home, in a city that couldn't be more opposite from Vail. The 17th of June existed, yet I could not tell you the capacity, as there was no sunrise or sunset, no way to gauge the day.
Per usual on the trip to Cambodia, the first stop of the day was Toul Sleng, or the S21 Prison in Phnom Penh. A negative energy flows from the gates of Toul Sleng, it grips you as you stare at the large razor wired buildings, as your ears are filled with the horrors that took place behind the walls. Our guide was 15 when the Khmer Rouge occupied Phnom Penh, and his entire family was killed during the four years under Pol Pot's regime. Walking through the halls, you can feel the restless spirits of the hundreds tortured and killed there. A heaviness fills the air, blood stains the floor and photographs of innocent victims stare at you in every room. I always leave this place fearing for humanity. How many times can the human race try to destroy itself?
The next stop is Choeung Ek, the most well known of the Killing Fields. The first year, I spent my entire time walking around feeling nauseous, shaky and miserable. Last year I chose to not go in, I couldn't handle the way it made me feel. This year, I decided to brave the tour again. The soft wind rustled the tree leaves and branches. The birds and bugs were alive, chirping and making little noises. This place, where so many worst nightmares occurred, is now serene and peaceful. It is as if the souls of the deceased are able to rest knowing their story is being shared, their pain and horror is no longer a secret to hold. It is more peaceful here than at Toul Sleng. The trees and animals have somehow created a sanctuary, a safe place of remembrance. There is an energy of acceptance, yet a silent urge to let go. Allow what is and what was, move forward with the knowledge gained. Honor the past, the deceased, the lessons learned. This sacred place is calm now. Surrounded by barbed wire fences, protecting the memories and bones of those who suffered here. There are people everywhere; our group of students, a small gathering of monks, tourists from all over the globe, yet it is quiet. We are all silently reflecting on life, ours and others, listening to the breeze, and honoring the souls painfully lost.
