the tuol sleng genocide museum

It was the morning of Christmas Eve. The air was warm but still pleasant. At the back of a speeding tuk-tuk, the gust of cool breeze was more refreshing. Our driver was quiet most of the time and only broke his silence when he shared about his fascination with Filipino actors and the soap operas they are in. He is a fan of Marian Rivera and Ding Dong Dantes. And even Coco Martin. The entertaining conversation was a distraction to what we were about to experience.

The tuk-tuk came to a halt. We stepped down and walked towards a small building where we bought our tickets. Welcome to Tuol Sleng, more commonly known as S21. Once a public high school, the place was turned into a security prison during the reign of the Khmer Rouge. Today, S21 has been transformed into a museum letting everyone know about the horrific past of Cambodia.

From 1975 to 1979, Cambodia was ruled by the Khmer Rouge, a radical communist movement. They wanted to transform Cambodia into a rural, classless society. They abolished money, free markets, normal schooling, private property, foreign clothing styles, religious practices and traditional Khmer culture. They arrested and killed soldiers, officers and civil servants of the previous Khmer Republic. Educated people and those accused of being a traitor were imprisoned and executed. By the end of their rule, more than a million people has died under the regime.

Displayed near the entrance of the museum was the list of rules imposed upon every prisoner. It seemed like the 10 Commandments, only it wasn't bestowed by a loving god but inflicted by ruthless god-playing fiends. Basically, it says that the prisoner must follow everything he is told to do without hesitation. Going against the rules warrants punishment of either lashing with electric wires or electrocution. And while being punished, a prisoner is not allowed to cry. Prisoners were denied of being human.

We were brought into a room. With all the stains, it was difficult to make out the color the walls were originally painted with. There was nothing in the room except for a rusty metal bed frame with a sign saying “Do not touch!” A shackle lies on the bed. On the left wall hangs a black-and-white picture of that same room. But at that time when the photograph was taken, the bed wasn't empty. A dead body was lying on the bed, the shackle binding her arm, and a large pool of blood was flooding beneath. She was one of the 14 corpses discovered in S21 by the Liberation Army.

Our guide led us to the next three-storey building, whose corridors are fenced with barbed wires. Desperate prisoners who would rather die than prolong their suffering jumped from the building. But the Khmer Rouge didn’t like it. The lives of their prisoners must lie on their hands. They must have complete control over the prisoners. So the wires were put in place. Even the prisoners’ right to death were denied from them.

Inside, the rooms are filled with photographs. There are rooms dedicated to the powers behind the genocide. Hundreds of photos of soldiers were also on display. Same goes with the prisoners. Our guide’s English was heavily accented so I had to ask him to make it clear if the photos of the young boys and girls were prisoners or soldiers. It was hard to believe when he said they were soldiers. Some of them looked like they were just half my age. It was more difficult to imagine how they have felt when they had to inflict pain to or kill their fellows. Did they ever feel remorse? Or had they stopped feeling? But soldier or prisoner they may be, all of them seemed to have this chilling look in their eyes.

The next hall where we were led contained more photos. There were also crude paintings of how prisoners were tortured, and the actual instruments used to perform the act were displayed. Hearing the stories of what happened to all those people could stir a lot of emotions. But seeing the photos of the people who perished in that prison gave a heavier, darker feeling. The woman beside me couldn't help her tears from falling. Because there could be no denying that it happened. They were real people. And with each photo, they seemed to be asking why they had to go through that misery.

I wandered on my own around the upper floors of the buildings. At the second floor were rooms with wooden cells for each prisoner while the third floor rooms were used for mass detention.. I imagine looking at the small opening of a cell door and seeing a prisoner lying on the cold bare floor, his body curled to a fetal position, his clothes in tatters, terrified, in pain and wishing for death to come fast.

The rooms were particularly dim, with only a limited amount of light entering the openings which were left uncovered. It seemed like the dimness was trying to obscure the traces of what happened in the past. But it only brought out the darkness the once perpetuated in these rooms. The silence echoed the reverberating sound of agony and the stillness belied the cruelty that reigned the place.

Out of the thousands of people who were detained in S21, only a handful survived. They escaped execution because of their skills which Khmer Rouge soldiers thought were useful to them. Two of the survivors were there during our visit. If it's difficult to imagine the sufferings people endured, I think it is harder to fathom where they got the strength to continue living despite losing every person who were important to them.