Friday, January 9, 2009
And all our yesterdays pave the way
Each day I spend in Phnom Penh is another blow to what’s left of my soul. Ravaged by war, genocide, and more recently, an infestation of morally perverse sex and drug tourists, Cambodia’s capital city is a painful example of resilience during the darkest of days.
Max, Jim and I arrived in Phnom Penh on January 4, just three days before the Cambodian People’s Party (CPP) celebrated the 30th anniversary of the fall of Pol Pot and his Khmer Rouge regime.
Although most, if not all, surviving Cambodians consider liberation from the regime a victory, the January 7 celebration currently is a source of much controversy. The current political power, CPP, seems to have hijacked the celebration to further its own agenda. Meanwhile, the opposing Funicipec and Sam Raimsy parties argue that true peace did not come to Cambodia until the signing of the Paris Peace Accords on October 23, 1979.
My own political ignorance aside, Cambodian politics seems to be a horrid tangle of corruption, defamation and greed. Corruption seems to pervade so deep into local law enforcement that theoretically illegal drugs including marijuana, cocaine, ecstasy, ketamine and opium are openly sold on the streets, and even in the form of ‘happy’ pizzas and shakes in backpacker-oriented restaurants that line the Boeng Kak lakeside.
I am normally a strong supporter of legalising and regulating sex and drug industries, as I believe that regulation ultimately is beneficial to public health and safety. Sadly, in Cambodia, these industries exist in a legal ‘grey area’ that provides all the cons and none of the pros of the throbbing, thriving night.
One night, a misunderstanding between a tuk-tuk driver and ourselves led us to a thinly veiled karaoke-brothel. As we made our hurried escape, we passed a papasan with his flock of scantily clad girls, many of whom looked barely -- if even -- in their teens.
Another evening, Max, Jim and I happened to be seated just a little too close to a working girl, her much older client, and her client’s twenty-something year-old male friend. I was horrified at the explicit, vulgar memoirs that she so generously (and loudly) shared with the group, and even more horrified by the fact that she’d brought her young daughter with her.
It pains me to overhear young male backpackers speaking with older sex workers about $2.50 sex with ‘very young’ girls. It worries me to see bright local boys no older than twelve hawking marijuana. And it fills me with an overwhelming rage when I read the ridiculous graffiti strewn up by selectively sighted backpackers on cafe walls; graffiti that denounces Western capitalist chains like 7-11 as destroyers of ‘exotic’ South East Asia, while saying nothing at all of the sex and drugs being bought and sold in those very cafes and on the streets.
We left Phnom Penh on January 8, with Max flying back to Australia via Kuala Lumpur, and Jim and I heading westwards, overland, to Siem Reap and the ancient ruins of Angkor. Here’s to the hope that the ancient temples revive in me some pride in mankind...
Max, Jim and I arrived in Phnom Penh on January 4, just three days before the Cambodian People’s Party (CPP) celebrated the 30th anniversary of the fall of Pol Pot and his Khmer Rouge regime.
Although most, if not all, surviving Cambodians consider liberation from the regime a victory, the January 7 celebration currently is a source of much controversy. The current political power, CPP, seems to have hijacked the celebration to further its own agenda. Meanwhile, the opposing Funicipec and Sam Raimsy parties argue that true peace did not come to Cambodia until the signing of the Paris Peace Accords on October 23, 1979.
My own political ignorance aside, Cambodian politics seems to be a horrid tangle of corruption, defamation and greed. Corruption seems to pervade so deep into local law enforcement that theoretically illegal drugs including marijuana, cocaine, ecstasy, ketamine and opium are openly sold on the streets, and even in the form of ‘happy’ pizzas and shakes in backpacker-oriented restaurants that line the Boeng Kak lakeside.
I am normally a strong supporter of legalising and regulating sex and drug industries, as I believe that regulation ultimately is beneficial to public health and safety. Sadly, in Cambodia, these industries exist in a legal ‘grey area’ that provides all the cons and none of the pros of the throbbing, thriving night.
One night, a misunderstanding between a tuk-tuk driver and ourselves led us to a thinly veiled karaoke-brothel. As we made our hurried escape, we passed a papasan with his flock of scantily clad girls, many of whom looked barely -- if even -- in their teens.
Another evening, Max, Jim and I happened to be seated just a little too close to a working girl, her much older client, and her client’s twenty-something year-old male friend. I was horrified at the explicit, vulgar memoirs that she so generously (and loudly) shared with the group, and even more horrified by the fact that she’d brought her young daughter with her.
It pains me to overhear young male backpackers speaking with older sex workers about $2.50 sex with ‘very young’ girls. It worries me to see bright local boys no older than twelve hawking marijuana. And it fills me with an overwhelming rage when I read the ridiculous graffiti strewn up by selectively sighted backpackers on cafe walls; graffiti that denounces Western capitalist chains like 7-11 as destroyers of ‘exotic’ South East Asia, while saying nothing at all of the sex and drugs being bought and sold in those very cafes and on the streets.
We left Phnom Penh on January 8, with Max flying back to Australia via Kuala Lumpur, and Jim and I heading westwards, overland, to Siem Reap and the ancient ruins of Angkor. Here’s to the hope that the ancient temples revive in me some pride in mankind...
Labels: Cambodia
# posted by liz : 11:40 PM
