Hope in the dark places.

Ok. This is the only warning I will give. This post contains matter of a sensitive nature. Scenes depicting a dark period of history are inside, and children or those prone to depression will want to avoid it.

I leave it up to you to decide. Skip ahead or back if you don't want to see this (I'm still going to try to keep it light, for those who stick around).

A beautiful exterior... now.

We visited a well-known museum today known as Tuol Sleng. More specifically, it's known as the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. This is a place of harsh memory and sadness, but not without hope.

Not a place for the faint of heart, or spiritually ungrounded.

 'Tuol Sleng, roughly translated, means 'hill of the poisonous trees'. I don't know exactly what this is referring to, but it might have to do with the blood and tears that watered the grounds. Growing here now are mango trees, a plumeria, and a few other fruit trees. Some were here when the atrocities happened.

This place was once a high school. People came to learn, and I imagine the halls rang with laughter and children chatting happily. When the Khmer Rouge came some 40 years ago, they converted it to a prison. A bad, bad prison.






Why a school? Well, let me answer you with a question - how do you control a people? Answer: make them stupid. Look at Hitler - burning books. Some of the other dictators and evil people of the world pulled the same tricks.

So why was this place so bad?

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here...

You think I am being dramatic? Well, then let me show you:

Not for sleeping.

It was for this...

You can zoom in if you want, but I wouldn't.





This place was filled with little rooms like these. People were captured, tortured, and sometimes killed here.

Original barb wire.

The point? The Khmer Rouge attempted to exterminate anyone they felt was a threat. They killed people just for wearing glasses, or because they didn't turn in enough neighbors. They were... horrible.

I know, I know... keep it light.

So we moved around, touring the place. We were here because all mission teams come here. I was here to learn just what the people went through. This, and other events, color the everyday lives of the beautiful, gentle people I've introduced you too.

Once, a school...

Ok, so there's your history lesson. What did I experience, you ask?

Well, for starters, there's an overwhelming feeling of sadness here. If you aren't ready for it, then I don't recommend visiting. It'll follow you home.

Ahh! But I learned something else! There's hope here!

People remember, and they learn.

Where, you ask? Well, for starters, there were survivors. Some still come here, telling their story to the next generation (and selling things to you - see my previous post). What's more, this place has been reclaimed. The trees are all bearing fruit - mangos, jackfruit... and flowering. An air of peace hangs over certain areas like a fresh breeze. Blood still stains the concrete and tiles, but it's fading.

While walking through, a question you might ask yourself is... Where is God in this suffering?

I found this just on the inside of the barbed wire:

I'm usually skeptical about these things... but...

I see a man, and I see a cross. The prisoners would have seen this. Every. single. day. Interpret this how you wish, but I saw it as hope, and as a reminder that He was here, too, with them all.

I have other pictures... other stories I could tell. I could show you the gallows... the display cases of skulls... all of it, but I think that's enough.

For a geeky guy in Cambodia, it's overwhelming. I may be analytical, but this place touches you deeply on many levels.

During the Khmer Rouge, the people were forced, immediately, to evacuate the cities. They went to the countryside, and a lot of people died. I had the chance to ask someone here about this. Specifically, I wanted to know what civilization was like before the evac. What was I told?

The cities now are far better than then. People came, and now they (the Khmer) are prospering.

Hope.