Pour un Sourire D'Enfant

Cambodia. Ah cambodia. It has now been almost two months since we were there and I still think about Cambodia. We spent a few days in Ankor Wat, cycling around the ruins before heading to the capital, Pnom Penh.

Ankor Wat was incredible, absolutely breathtaking and spectacular. We stayed at a hostel where the owner let us borrow bikes for free to cycle to the ruins ourselves. So the first morning we set off really early, before sunrise, and made it to the top of one of the sites before the sun came up. There we saw a monkey climbing all over, toppling the trash and eating leftovers. Somehow that made it more magical.

We had the bikes for three days and although exhausting, it was possibly the best way to see the ruins. The last day we were too tired, and rented a tuk tuk to take us around Ankor Wat and drive the 30 km or so to the Landmine museum.

One of the major reasons we went to Pnom Pehn was to experience the history of the Killing Fields. I admit that I did not know much about the country, or its tragic history, before the visit, but learning it in the country it took place made it all the more horrifying and vivid. We slept in a hostel across from the S-21 Prison, an old school which the Khmer Rouge turned into a torture prison and which is now a museum. It was from here that people of all ages were sent to the Killing Fields. The hostel, although completely void of any connection to its grusome neighbor, still had a strange aura. The first night I could barely sleep, imagining screams coming from across the barbed wire fence. Then of course there was the Killing Fields themself, located about 14 km outside the capital. It is now an outdoor museum of sorts and a memorial to all those killed by the Khmer Rouge.

I think Jack and I were not expecting to be moved as much as we were. We also read a book, First They Killed My Father, which gave the people a voice and gave us more images than were possible with the museums alone. This book, combined with our talks with our Tuk Tuk driver, who referred to himself as Mr. Lucky, made me realize that every person in Cambodia is connected to what happened. They all lost family, over a fourth of their countrymen died. It was almost too much to take in.

In both Laos and Cambodia there were publications called Stay Another Day, where local NGOs or organizations which helped the local community were listed. Shops tended to contain items made by victims of landmines, orphans, or the disabled, who are discriminated against in both countries. Most restaurants either donated money or helped street kids or employed them. Our favorite organization was called Pour un Sourire D'Enfant (literally "For the Smile of a Child"), a French NGO set up to help the poor children around Pnom Pehn's garbage dump. The founders visited Pnom Penh over a decade ago and found children scrounging around the dump looking for items to reuse. The children did not go to school, barely ate, were living in filth (a lot of families set up shacks on top of the dump) and some were even crushed to death by the incoming dump trucks.

Now there is a school, training facilities, and regular food and health aid around the dump. The dump remains, we even visited it, but the conditions are so much better. We also ate at their restaurant, where all of the wait staff are former dump children. Here is their site if you'd like to visit, .

Cambodia has a much different feel than Laos. It feels poorer and a bit more dangerous. Poverty is apparent and something to be keenly aware of. The thing that touched me most though was the smiles. People, looking ragged and warn thin (like our cyclo driver in Pnom Pehn), couldn't possibly be happy, or so I thought. They might have looked older than their years, and most likely stared at us straight through, but once a smile was offered, their faces lit up! It was fantastic and never failed.

For the Smile of a Child. Try it.