Day 3: From a village to the killing fields

Today we left city life and headed for the country. After an hour's drive through rice paddies and palm trees, we arrive in Oudongk District. Our hosts are a Christian-based charity. WFP gives them food which they then distribute at a grass roots level.

We first visit the women's center, where pregnant women, nursing mothers and children get food and monthly check-ups. The remoteness of this operation makes the little clinic all the more impressive. Accompanied by a few doctors from the clinic, we head to a nearby village. I follow the group into a small hut where all the women and children of the village are gathered. The doctor, a worn-looking man wearing a white coat, gets up in front of them and shows them pictures of the proper way to breast-feed and other nutrition-related facts. A scale is brought out and put in the middle of the room. Little kids, one by one, take their turn being placed on the scale. One girl who had gained two kilos stands proudly on the scale (even though she didn't really know what was going on!). All the kids are adorable and seem to find our presence very intriguing.

Then the staff begins preparing biscuits using corn-soya blend, which is a good source of vitamins, especially for young children. The women are learning the right proportions of ingredients to make this nutrient-rich porridge. For attending the program, the women receive food that will help their little kids avoid malnutrition, which causes serious health problems such as brain damage and stunted growth. It was really fun to interact with all the mothers and little kids who were extremely hospitable and friendly. With most of them looking on, I am offered, and accept, a small nibble from the CSB biscuit. I am pleasantly surprised to find that it tastes like a cookie.

Before leaving, Maggie and I go for a walk down the road. Some of the older kids follow us, making a game out of stopping whenever we stop -- and giggling when we look back at them. The houses are on stilts for when the rainy season comes. Famished-looking cows and dogs lay lazily along the path, and proud roosters strut around all puffed up. The women and kids are very friendly- smiling, laughing at our clumsy Western attempts at communicating. As we drive away leaving the sweet little village in the distance, I am struck by how hard they work for everything they have.

On the way back to the city I request that we stop at the “killing fields.” A very bumpy road and many small villages later, we arrive at a place that was one of the main extermination centers during the Khmer Rouge regime. It appears out of nowhere, and it has an eerie vibe about it. After paying a small entrance fee, I enter the grounds and am immediately drawn to a towering glass building. As I get closer, I see it is lined, level after level, with skulls. It is a sight of complete horror. More than 8,000 people were killed at this particular location, in the most violent and gory ways imaginable. The Pol Pot regime targeted everyone from women and children to intellectuals and officers. Around the site are mass graves that were excavated, leaving behind huge depressions in the ground that are now filled with rainwater. As we wander around the graves, I start to notice bits of clothing on the path and then pieces of bones and teeth. I decide to pay my respects from a distance. I really cannot describe this sight with its vivid remnants of the genocide. One of the women with us who works for WFP later told us that her brother was killed at this exact site. Most of the population over the age of 30 years has had someone close to them killed. I cannot even imagine the terror the Cambodian people endured in the not so distant past.

Day 4: Positive and proud

Today we are traveling to Wat Opot in Takeo Province to visit the Partners in Compassion mission there. A very nice Christian man named Wayne meets us and introduces us to a monk draped in the traditional bright orange robes. The mission was started to help people, both adults and children, infected with or affected by AIDS. The organization gives them counseling and care, while Doctors Without Borders gives them anti-retroviral drugs and WFP provides food. Partners in Compassion also gives housing and education to some of the AIDS orphans, many of whom are themselves HIV-positive. The mission even cremates the dead who previously would not have received a Buddhist burial ceremony because of the stigma of AIDS.

We first go to a room where the infected mothers who have nowhere to go are allowed to come and stay with their children. It is in a small building with a cement floor where at night they roll out their mats to sleep. Next door is the hospital where people who need medical attention are brought, most just to die in peace. There is one man in the room lying on the furthest bed from the door. He is cradled in a blanket, but his boney body is still just as shocking through the thin cloth. His breathing is deep and painful. The nurse, a devout Christian woman, is feeding him water and singing to him… “Jesus loves us, yes he does, for the Bible tells us so…” She explains to us that this is probably his last day. He had hit his wife a few days ago, and she has not returned, and now he just lies there struggling to the last with as much dignity as possible. I have never been close to a person on the brink of death and the raw humanity is jarring.

Next we are led out to a pavilion where the kids are gathering for lessons. As we approach they immediately turn their attention from the teacher to us. They are all just as bright-eyed and curious as any other children I have seen. Instructing them to continue with their lessons, Wayne takes this opportunity to explain who each child is and his or her situation. All the students are AIDS orphans, some of whom live in the mission, others living with relatives. He asks all those who are “positive” to stand up. Kids leap up, almost proud to be recognized. The other children there are “negative” and are the lucky brothers and sisters of those “positive” kids. Although they were born without AIDS they still get bullied at school for having siblings and parents who are “positive.” The children's triumphant stand on the platform is thanks to the mission's teaching the community that AIDS is not something to be ashamed of, but rather something to be challenged and overcome. After smiling for a few pictures and then looking at the digital images of themselves in my camera, they go back to their lessons and games.

Leaving the kids, we head toward what looks to be the most well-built structure on the mission, a stucco building with the appearance of a temple. It is the crematorium. On one side is a room to keep the dead overnight and on the other is a memorial room with pictures of the people who came to the mission and died of AIDS. Wayne takes me through the pictures and you can tell he is very deeply connected to all these people. One little boy in particular, he said, was the first AIDS orphan to take the ARVs, and was doing so well that he was enrolled in public school with the rest of the kids. Before he could start, he died. Each face, each story: all different, yet all so similarly tragic.

AIDS runs rampant in the rural areas because people are ashamed to admit they have it, they then carry on with their lives and thus spread the disease. Denial and ignorance allow AIDS to spread even to the most innocent, children who are born positive. The lack of medicines and appropriate medicine dosages for children leaves them helpless. And thus was the beauty of Partners in Compassion: using their inter-faith belief in God to give these people hope and dignity in facing this fatal disease. By providing them with food in conjunction with the ARVS, all the aid groups give these people a fighting chance.

On our way out of the village we visit a woman who has AIDS but because of the ARVS seems to be in fine health. She and her three little kids live with other family members in an extended bamboo house. The family has set up three silk looms, one of them donated by Partner in Compassion so the woman can make a little money. She had gone from near death, to being healthy and working towards a successful future for her and her children.

As I leave this mission I feel a sense of the inevitable sadness for people infected with AIDS, but also hope because of the people in this world who are willing to devote their life to helping people face life with AIDS. Their inter-religious approach was especially admirable. All over the world there are wars being fought over religion. But at Partner in Compassion, it was refreshing to see Buddhist and Christian teachings of peace and love working together to help those who need it most. Buddhist chants were ringing throughout the village as we left, as the celebration of the dead was beginning. For the people living in the mission, death is always looming on the horizon, but every day breeds a sense of hope with people living for what they can do today and a faith in something beyond hardships, disease, and death.