Cambodia Can Have An Impact

I have no idea why I never got that post onto my blog, but as I am now heading off to another adventure. I would like to share this with you...

Traveling brings moments of brevety and deep contemplation. I suppose that emtional and intellectual growth are some of the purposes of visiting another country. I have learned alot in the past 2 months about communism, dictatorships, and capitalistic enterprise among poverty. South East Asia is as diverse as it is similar. "Same-same but different." Aside from intermitent adventures, I feel that this is the greatest essence of travel outside of the scope of the western world.
After repeated occupation by other countries, every type of war, genocide and recent independence. I had the opportunity to observe a country in the fluxes of recovery. Here is an example of something I experienced:

When I entered my steps were heavy and my mouth was silent. I let the black spots ringed like an eclipse fade from my vision before proceeding any further. I was in a room, long, square rough brick peaking though chipped plaster a classroom. The sun pushed its way though the cracks in the walls and the rusted bars on the windows. The phospheresant particles of matter floated down the beams of light urging reverence. Each brick wall 8 X 2 meters just enough for one person. The red brick was not ancient, it was cracked and stale with abandonment. I gazed down at a 35 yearold plastic jug slowly decomposing next to a rusted lunchbox that once held M-16 bullets. As I walked down the corridor between the tiny dilapidated cells and half unhindged doors. I heard a voice echoing down the passageway. I followed the sad voice slowly not knowing if it was a monk lamenting the past or a Cambodian practicing his kareoke skills. I ducked through the crude doorway made by smashing throught the connecting wall. I stood still listening intently to the voice straining to place it, and wondering what sounds were heard here 35 years ago. The voice changed as I approached the window, it appeared my later assumtion was correct. But, for those 2 minutes I felt the life that was once here. A haunting and intimate moment with all of my senses hightened. That was the moment I experienced Toul Sleng Prison.
I was there in Cell Block B, where the genocide commited by Pol Pot's regime became tangible for me. This wasn't Ankor Wat or Rabbit Island, this was a place in the center of the capitol where thousands of people's lives were lost. Over shadowing this tragic place are the Killing Fields, where millions of people died in killed and thrown into ditches all over the country. Of the 85 sites all over Cambodia the Khmer people have no choice but to remember, and I had a chance to learn from that.