Only one day in the capital; that was pretty much decided on (and firmly upheld on arrival) before we'd arrived. It's not as captivating as the small tourist hub of Siem Reap; a mixture of the noise/pollution/violent desperation for tourists but as to what percentage each constituted I'd have to spend longer there.
We found a hostel suburb in the North West of the city, overlooking the Lake, which would make for spectacular sunsets, if it hadn't been overcast that night. The hostels are all built on long wooden walkways over the water, and the rooms were basic to say the least - a hole through to the water was a toilet (made for an environmental dilemma of toilet paper) and not-on-purpose holes around the bed. If ever there was a place to forget about the mosquitoes and instead fret over what spider, crocodile or lake monster would grab you during the night...
To be fair, the social area was great, with a nice bar, dvd selection and plenty of people chilling out. Some more than others; we met a fair few who only left the hostel at night to go to another bar, and many refused to travel up to Siem Reap because the entrance fee of Angkor Wat was an 'expensive' £10. Well, after travelling to Cambodia, how can you argue with that logic? And, more to the point, would you really want to?
Des and I hopped back on the tuk-tuk that we took from the bus station. He decided to wait for us for an overall price of $4, and drove us on to S21.
Frustratingly, the guy got quite aggressive and defiant in his claim that we agreed $5. Not much, I know, but I felt grudged to give it to him, for being standoffish. In front of other tourists, security guards who didn't bat an eyelid, and other drivers, it got quite heated and he even threatened to turn up to our hostel later with his 'friends'. It's not worth the risk, so I caved in and gave him the money. What a difference a distance makes.
Phnom Penh is home to the Royal Palaces and Pagodas of the Gold and Silver variety, but it's not much different to what I had already seen in Bangkok. There are also plenty of markets. Again, not so tempting. The other big draw is the tour a few kms out to the Killing Fields, although I had been warned by every person and guide that this is more 'field' than 'Fields' and not to bother.
The only place I was eager to visit was the truly depressing former school-turned-determination camp, S21 (Security Prison 21). Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum was a high school but transformed into a prison soon after the rise of the Khmer ROuge in 1975. For the next four years, thousands of Cambodians were imprisoned, tortured and murdered.
It's a heartbreaking museum to walk around - the makeshift prison cell dividers (brick or wood), the skulls on display, the torture devices, the photos of the murdered and murderers, the barbed wire on the higher levels so that no-one could attempt to commit suicide.
There are three facts that strike me as vital when trying to grasp the scale of horror:
1. Where other fascist movements aimed for a global scale, the Khmer Rouge focused on their own civilians.
2. Was it really better to be a guard? Many who have given accounts afterwards express their sorrow but state that they had no real choice, unless they too wanted to be tortured.
3. Out of the 17,000 or so prisoners estimated betwen 1975-79, there are only twelve known survivors.
It's a haunting building, and near impossible to imagine it as a school, or anything other than a miserable place.
That night, we walked around the hostels, and I can honestly say I've never been offered that many drugs in my life. Opium, skunk (or is that skank?), god knows what else. I wouldn't know what to do with a leaf or powder or liquid even if it was given to me. I don't know what a 'crack den' looks like, but it's one of those phrases I didn't think I'd ever use, so now's my chance. Not the most pleasant of atmospheres, so I was quite glad to be off to the last destination on the first bus the next morning.
