When Slaves Became Masters: A True-Life Story of a Little Boy Before, During, and After the Unfathomable Evil of Pol Pot’S Regime

Contents

In dedication to:

Acknowledgments

The Arranged Marriage

Trawpoeng Trawkeat City

Wat Angkrew

Maternal Grandparents’ House

The Rural Buddhism

Fearing the Spread of War

The Thieves from the Border

The Vietcong Aggression

The Era of Rank Rises through a

Pair of Trouser Legs

Caught in the Middle of the Battlefield

Tani City

The Myna’s Cage

Bah Ray Village

The Kilo Lek Boun District

The Dragonfly Poison

The Betrayal of the First Love

The Bah Ray Evacuation

The Trip to Battambang City

The Great Turning Point

The Surprised Acquaintance

The Infirmary of Chrey Korng

Prince Norodom Sihanouk’s Defiance

My Fifth-Grade Teacher

The Life-and-Death Decision

Preah Srai Village

Kampong Chhnang Village

Returning to Battambang

The Eternal Goodbye

The Bone Tosser

The Former Master’s Fear

The Phnom Anglong Clair Labor Camp

I Was Floating in the Air

The Escape from the Tross Village

Da’s and Srey’s Account

The Kampeegn Peouy Dam Project

Returning to Kampong Chhnang

The Escape from the Khmer Rouge’s Control

Kampong Sambour Village

Returning to Snoeng

The Drought of 1979

The Backyard Treasure

My Father’s Good Deed

A Stranger from the Border

Moving to Battambang

A Trip to the Border

Going to Khao I Dang Refugee Camp

Sereysophon City

The Thai Soldiers at the

Khao I Dang Refugee Camp

The Surprise of the Blond Lady

Going to the Third Country

Arriving in America

In dedication to:

Pa,

I would like to pay tribute to you whose life

was full of love, kindness and dignity.

Maly and Mala,

My beloved innocent younger brothers whose lives

were cut short by the cruelty of the Khmer Rouge regime.

You were truly adorable.

Both of you and Pa

will live forever in my memory.

I love and miss all of you profoundly.

Mala,

My dear youngest brother who saved us from being

sent to death at the regularly flooded lowland

near the great lake Tonle Sap.

I’m very grateful to you.

Acknowledgments

Decades have passed. Finally I have achieved my ambition to publish the story of my beloved homeland which was suddenly turned upside down on April 17, 1975. I am grateful to those who encouraged and helped me with this enormous task: Dr. Jonathan Pearce, former assistant superintendent of Lincoln Unified School District, who read my first manuscript and encouraged me to pursue its publishing. Michael Fitzgerald, a Stockton Record columnist, who wrote about it, and inspired me to publish a book. David Wellenbrock, a former San Joaquin County prosecutor who bought a great book for me to read so that I could better write my manuscript. Judith Hansen, an attorney, who also bought two wonderful books for me to read for the same purpose.

In an effort to further improve my writing skills, I checked out several books from the Stockton public library to review. Two of them were written in Cambodian language. Judge Michael Coughlan also gave me advice on how to find a publisher who wouldn’t publish books that would end up in the garage. My appreciation also goes out to Gregory Furey, Deputy District Attorney, David Atkinson, Attorney, Jeffrey Silvia, Attorney, Berta DeFrench, court-certified Spanish interpreter who helped me with suggestions.

I wish to extend my heartfelt thanks to my mother, Sinuon Chin, who gave me many great details. My older brother, Bora Pok and my younger brother, Chandara Pok, also furnished me with additional stories.

Indeed, I’m indebted to Linda Kehoe who helped me with proofreading. I’m grateful to friends who gave me support and inspiration to take on this task. Finally, I would like to thank my wife, Sokeo Chhit and my children, Rolland, Isabelle, Regal and Richard, who provided me with a quiet atmosphere to focus on writing this story in our home, both day and night, and even on weekends.

Preface

It’s great that you have a story to write about, David Wellenbrock, a former prosecutor for San Joaquin County District Attorney’s Office, told me. Some people don’t even have a story. He was intrigued by the story of my life after reading my rough draft. His statement inspired me to work countless hours on this book because many people throughout the world are oblivious still to the immense atrocities committed in Cambodia between 1975 and 1979. The barbarity was beyond human understanding, and no one could ever point to one root cause of it. It is my intention to describe the horrible tragedy suffered by my family, who represent the several hundred thousands of families victimized during the Khmer Rouge’s regime.

Buddha warned that "greed, ignorance and violence have been the root cause of all of mankind’s problems. Every nation that had been involved with war in Cambodia might have at least one of those three things in common. Every nation ought to cherish peace and live in harmony rather than favor malevolence; eventually, all sides will lose and the proverbial hell on earth" will result. It wasn’t only in Cambodia that an estimated two million people perished; its neighboring country also lost a similar number. Those unfortunate innocent victims, including young children and women, fell into a web spun by the world’s super powers, both the communist states and the Western countries, because of a few deranged cliques of leaders whose minds were fixed with the greed, ignorance or violence spoken of by Buddha.

The trite expression, When the elephants are attacking one another, only the ants get killed is well-known throughout Cambodia. War was inevitable because it was out of the hands of the Cambodian people. Generally, Cambodians are passionately interested in peace, tranquility and harmony. Additionally, our leader didn’t realize that a small country like Cambodia could not maintain independence and neutrality in the midst of stronger, more belligerent neighbors such as Thailand and Vietnam. He adamantly refused the offer for Cambodia to become a U.S. Protectorate.

Consequently, war was imminent, and the country, having just emerged from ninety years of colonial rule, was not ready for it. The US-backed Marshal Lon Nol plotted to topple the Head of State, Prince Norodom Sihanouk. Lon Nol and his accomplices completely relied on the U.S. support for waging war against the Vietcong and the Khmer Rouge guerrillas.

It was no use to trust and rely on the United States of America because of its quest to contain communism based on the Truman Doctrine of Containment against the Soviet and Chinese communist expansion. Chairman Mao Tse-Tung and Premier Chou En-Lai committed full support for the Khmer Rouge (Cambodian communists), whereas the United States cut off all of its military support, accepting a humiliating defeat without a controlled resolution as relentlessly proposed by the last U.S. Ambassador, John Gunther Dean, before the downfall of Phnom Penh’s government. All of this culminated in leaving the Khmer people defenseless to face one of the most savage regimes of the 20th century once Pol Pot took power.

When I first immigrated to the U.S. in September 1981, I still had nightmares about the ordeals that I had hoped to leave behind in Cambodia. It took several months before those terrible dreams finally departed. At that time, I also had a language barrier that prevented me from telling people about my past experiences as a small child. I was treated unfairly by some people who didn’t understand why I was here, where I had come from and for what reason? I have been waiting to recount the story of my life and my people to the whole world because I strongly believe that ‘to ignore justice for those who no longer could speak for themselves is to promote injustice for posterity.’ Moreover, the two million victims of the Khmer Rouge’s regime, including my beloved father and two younger brothers, deserve to be remembered with compassion and benevolence, so that they will serve as a cause to guide our course of action to prevent future atrocities and to promote peace and justice throughout the world. We definitely can make the world a better place if each of us perseveres in achieving it. Writing this book is my contribution.

The Arranged Marriage

The recurrent memory of the Ang Samroung village where my mother had grown up, is a picture of endless lush green rice fields, blending with countless palm trees growing all over, against the background of the Buddhist temple to the north. The even surface of the rice stalks wafted in the cool light breeze, bobbing up and down like the rolling waves of the ocean. The rice paddies were half-full of water, and short weeds with mixed-colors of yellow, white and purple blossoms that grew along the lengthy rice dikes. Ouh Poung Creek cut across the vast rice fields that always had shallow flowing water over a red sandy floor. Along the banks of the creek were tall bushes and trees with beautiful flowers that produced an aroma which made the area very pleasant and enjoyable. It was in the summer of 1962, in this village, where my mother became engaged to, and married, my father, according to the Cambodian custom. My father lived in Trawpoeng Kyoeng (snail pond) village, approximately one kilometer to the east, in Kampot province, near the Vietnam border.

"Oeur, oiy kar oiy tov [Yeah, it is okay to give]," Kong Sean responded to Yiey Em, when he was asked about his final decision to offer his fifteen-year-old daughter to marry Pa (father). Kong is Cambodian word for ‘Grandfather;’ Yiey means ‘Grandmother.’ Kong Sean is of Chinese descent. He has a light complexion, is big and tall, and his hair has always been cut short, standing up straight. Kong Sean’s gaze is intimidating to some people, especially family members. My mother has been afraid of him since childhood, continuing on into her adult life. Part of it is merely to respect and honor him as a Father, the way most Cambodian people are expected to for their parents.

Kong Sean had a light-blue bicycle made for a man. Two types of bicycles are custom-built in Cambodia: one is the man’s version, the other one is customized for a woman to ride. The woman’s model doesn’t have a straight bar, extending from right underneath the saddle to right underneath the handlebar, like the bicycle for men.

The reason that the bicycle for women is designed differently is because it is considered inappropriate for a woman to wear pants. A woman would often be carried on a back seat by a man, with her both legs dangling over the left side or she would ride a bicycle by herself with the frame designed for woman because almost all women and girls would wear a sarong or skirt. It is customary for a woman not to reveal her figure from the waist down. Women are expected to comport themselves with the dignity demanded by Cambodian society. A man, on the other hand, did not have these same concerns when riding a bicycle.

Kong Sean would use his bicycle to go to nearby villages to visit his relatives and friends. Sometimes he used it to go to Tani market, about three and a half kilometers away, to buy his personal goods. Some people thought that Kong Sean was an unfriendly person because he rarely smiled at anyone. Mak (mother) used to say, "Kong is mean. Since I was young I have noticed that he never used polite words toward me." It wasn’t that Kong Sean was mean; he was a man of few words. He meant what he said and didn’t like to chit-chat or gossip about anyone at all.

Kong Sean and Po Meng (Mak’s younger brother) had produced a lot of brown sugar from the palm juice. Every three to four month, a full water buffalo cart load of brown sugar was transported to sell to the Chinese merchants at the Tani market. The brown sugar generated a lot of money and Yiey Em usually bought new clothes, krawma (scarf), and other goods for everyone in the family.

During the off-farming seasons, Kong Sean often kept himself busy with his personal project, making water buckets out of small wooden boards. The buckets were tightly gripped by wires and glued to prevent the water from leaking. He spent his spare time making the buckets to sell to the retailers at the Tani market, too. The dozens of handmade buckets also generated additional income for the family’s needs. Besides working on the bucket project, I sometimes saw him sharpening his machete, ax or chisel underneath a Srawcop tree, next to the big water containers.

Each water container is about three and a half feet in height by three and a half feet in diameter. It is made of concrete. There were about eight or nine of them scattered around the stilt house. Some of them were placed in a row like a wagon train directly underneath the end of the gutters. Rainwater was always kept in some water containers for drinking. Water containers were always covered with wooden lids to prevent dust or insects from getting into the water. Besides the water containers around the house, a few more were placed in the banana orchard and mloo (betel pepper leaves) vines on the east side of the house for bathing.

I noticed that Kong Sean kept himself busy most of the time until he was tired. Then, he usually took a nap until the mid-afternoon sun cooled off. When he woke up, he would go out to the pasture and drag his two large water buffaloes to drink the water. Then he took them back to the pasture again for more grazing. In the evening, he would lock them up underneath the stilt kitchen thatched structure.

Kong Sean has always been his own boss. His speech has always been rough and demanding. At home he hardly smiled at any family members, except when one of his friends or his older brother, Kong Chhur, came to visit him. My father seemed to be afraid of him. He always stayed at a distance from Kong Sean and minded his own business.

Kong Sean has a unique appetite; he has been very picky about his food, especially stews. When Yiey Em was alive, she had a hard time cooking the right stew for him. Three decades passed by, his attitude never changed. Presently, my mother or Ee (aunt, younger than my mother) Sinin began receiving similar treatment from him about the stew, the same as when Yiey Em was around.

In December 1994, I visited him in Cambodia, after a twenty-two-year separation, at Ee Sinin’s house in Phnom Penh, the capital city. During one dinner time, I noticed that he demanded Ee Sinin make another stew for him because the one that was already cooked didn’t taste right to him. I forgot what the actual reason was for his complaint. Maybe it had too much sour flavor, or something else in it that he didn’t like. Without talking back to him, she simply put on a straw hat, grasped a woven rattan basket and walked toward a nearby market about two hundred meters away, to buy meat and vegetables for making a new stew for my grandfather. I smiled. I continued to eat food on the table with my cousins while my grandfather was walking away from the table. I thought to myself, he maybe was too proud that his long-lost grandson just arrived from the United States, or he really didn’t like the stew that was served, disregarding many other foods on the table.

That incident reminded me that Kong Sean has been the same for more than two decades. Now that I have learned more about human nature, I believe that because he has the genes of his parents, he will never change. At Ang Samroung, Yiey Em was always afraid of him. She obeyed him most of the time, just to avoid arguing with him.

My mother’s family had been the well-to-do one in the village, based on a peasant’s living standard. Many people in the village were somehow related to my parents. Kong Sean certainly didn’t have a big bank account, but he had an abundant rice supply that could feed the family throughout the entire year, without concern about the possibility of rice shortage before the next rice harvesting season. On the south side of his house there was a rice bin that was made of adobe walls and wooden board floor that was raised about one meter off the ground. The bin was about four meters square and three and a half meters in height. Its roof was made of thatch. I sometimes followed Yiey Em there, to get the rice for drying on the woven reed mats in front of the house, before having it transported by Po Meng’s water buffalo cart to the mill at Angkorchey village, a couple of kilometers northwest of Ang Samroung. In the bin I often saw a few hens incubating their eggs on the rice surface.

According to the Buddha’s philosophy, "Life is suffering [dissatisfaction]. Thus many people would believe that, to eliminate suffering is to cut down unnecessary desires." The rural peasants merely desired (1) to live a life of self-sufficiency in rice production, and (2) no government interference. That was all. If they could achieve those two things, they would live a very comfortable life with less stress or problems. It seemed that no one in the village had a bank account, or would even know how to use it if a banking service was available. The bank was not important in the countryside, especially for the peasants. They always kept their valuable jewelry and money locked at home. Theft had not been a problem in the countryside because most people were somehow related or had known one another for a long time.

On the other hand, maintaining pride had been a priority in their community. Kong Sean’s status in Ang Samroung was very prestigious. He used to own a large amount of land that was full of tropical fruit trees, including coconut, banana, jackfruit, papaya, gooseberry, guava, star fruit, grapefruit, sop (a fruit, green when ripe, and eaten like a pomegranate), sour sop, pomegranate, orange, etc. There were about thirty-five to forty palm trees, of which only fifteen were used to produce fresh palm juice daily. The rest were too young to produce any juice, or they were unproductive.

Kong Sean also owned a lot of rice fields next to the Buddhist temple that had many palm trees scattered along the rice dikes. He owned many more rice fields near Prey Beung (forest lake), which had a small pond in the middle of it. During the rainy season the water from the big lake spilled over into the pond and the rice fields, bringing a large amount of fish with it annually. During rice harvesting season, the water would recede and the fish would be trapped in the pond, making it easier to catch all of them for food. The fish were salted and dried to preserve for a family’s consumption for the rest of the year. Some of them were made into fish pastes. Others were fermented with salt and roasted ground rice and kept in huge jars along the kitchen walls. Fish paste is used as one of the basic flavors for stews.

Kong Sean’s huge stilt house was also a symbol of his wealth. The house was eight meters wide and twelve meters in length. The house floor was raised to nearly three meters in height. The stairs had eleven steps and his front door faced toward the east. According to the Cambodian custom, the house would never be built facing westward or have an even number of steps because both of those would be considered bad luck. This is why statues of Buddha are always built facing eastward. In addition, Kong Sean had the most beautiful young daughter, my mother. My grandparents were very careful on choosing who would be her husband. My maternal grandmother liked my father, who she often called by his nickname A-Sear as a young man. The prefix A is often used by the elders to call younger people in an adoring way. But it depends on how it is used with the mood of the caller; it can also be used in a derogatory way to express anger and insult.

A-Sear, I have liked him since he was a little boy; he has had the reputation of respecting the elders, not only his parents but also other people, Yiey Em commented with a delightful facial expression at the gathering of a small group of people, which included her husband Kong Sean, her half-sister Yiey Rin (my paternal grandmother), and a few other relatives.

Ta Khoutt (my paternal grandfather) wasn’t present. Ta is a Cambodian word for ‘Grandfather’ or ‘old man.’ I use the term ‘Ta’ instead of ‘Kong’ because he didn’t have Chinese blood. Ta Khoutt was very different from Kong Sean. He was gentle, soft-spoken, and kind. He was also a peasant who had similar wealth as my mother’s family. At the initial revelation of interest for engagement of Kong Sean’s daughter, both of Pa’s parents were not required to be present. Ta Khoutt had an option to stay out of the engagement ceremony in case the bride’s parents wouldn’t approve the marriage; in this way, the groom’s father was saved from embarrassment or humiliation.

Because of the potential for rejection of approval of the marriage by the bride’s parents, it is often very important to discipline the children to behave appropriately in front of other people, especially the family’s guests. Mak and Pa had been the distant cousins; Yiey Em and Yiey Rin were half-sisters. They had separate mothers, but they had the same Father, Ta Enn. At the engagement gathering, Yiey Em proudly stated, "Bong [older person] Ou, whose son recently came to work with railroad workers at the Angkorchey village as a medical doctor, asked me about Knuon [short for Sinuon, my mother’s nickname]. I said, ‘no, my daughter is still too young to get married.’" Yiey Em gave a short explanation for her remark. But in reality, she didn’t trust Ta Ou and his son because they just moved there recently from Prey Veng province, which is near the Vietnam border. Hence, I don’t know the doctor’s background. She stressed.

A few months later, Ta Ou’s son, Dr. Khan, ended up marrying Ee Pha ([par] short for Phary) instead of Kong Sean’s daughter (my mother). Ee Pha is Pa’s second cousin. She is the daughter of Ta Tu and Yiey Nheus. Ta Tu’s family was also financially secure. His house was the second biggest in the village. Because Dr. Khan was much older than Ee Pha, many people suspected that he was already a married man. Their suspicion turned out to be true. He was married to a woman in Prey Veng province and had two young children. Dr. Khan and his ex-wife split their two children. Bong Thouk was taken to live with Dr. Khan and his new wife, Ee Pha. Her older brother was taken by her natural mother and lived in Prey Veng. Bong Thouk had been living with Ee Pha since her parents’ divorce until April 1975, and her stepmother was very nice to her, contrary to everyone’s suspicion of abuse.

Ee Pha was also a beautiful young woman. She had a very light complexion and was tall and slim. She had long, shiny black hair and big, luminous eyes with long lashes. Dr. Khan couldn’t resist her beauty, and when Ee Pha’s parents approved the marriage, the wedding ceremony was conducted soon after. The main reason that her parents went ahead with the decision to allow Ee Pha to marry him was because he was a doctor. Any other potential concerns were put aside for the time being. Ee Pha’s parents thought that it would be very rare to have someone in such a respected profession as Dr. Khan part of the family and the community. Yiey Em’s first impression about Dr. Khan’s background was apparent. She definitely didn’t want her young daughter to marry a married man for a few reasons: (1) the marriage would be difficult due to conflict between stepchildren and stepmother; (2) it would be hard to treat and love equally the stepchildren and her natural children; and (3) it was considered immoral to contribute to the breakup of another woman’s marriage and separate young children from their father. Furthermore, "the karma of making another woman suffer, due to the loss of her husband, will have severe consequences upon Ee Pha later in lifetime or the next life," Yiey Em feared.

There’re many bachelors who are schoolteachers whose parents came to ask me about Knuon, but I also refused to accept any of them. Yiey Em boastfully stated. I would fear for the same reason as Dr. Khan’s. On the other hand, I don’t trust any one of them to be a good husband for Knuon.

Now A-Sear just finished college in Kampot city; he’s a good-looking young man, and he’s also related to us, therefore, I feel more comfortable with having Knuon marrying him than any one of those bachelors whose parents came. She suggested the future son-in-law to her husband Kong Sean.

Without hesitation, Kong Sean agreed with Yiey Em’s idea, so he nodded his head in approval. He didn’t need to say anything further; he left the gathering to do his usual chores.

Whatever mistake happens during the course of their marriage, they both would forgive each other, and they would stay together until old age for the sake of their children, Yiey Em said while Kong Sean was turning around, and slowly was walking away from the group.

My paternal grandmother, Yiey Rin had a big happy smile on her face. She knew that her plan of separating Pa and Miss Bo (short for Sambo) was a success. The next thing that Yiey Em and Yiey Rin had to do was to go to the fortune-teller’s house to pick the right date for the formal engagement. According to the Chinese zodiac, Pa was born in 1939, the Year of the Rabbit. This was two years before King Norodom Sihanouk was placed on the throne of Cambodia in April 1941 by Marshal Henri Philippe Petain of Vichy government, during the French colonization of Indo-China (Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam). King Norodom Sihanouk was eighteen years old when he succeeded to the throne. The French chose him because they thought that he was a lamb and didn’t know that his name Sihanouk means power of the lion. Mak was born in 1947, the Year of the Pig. The Rabbit and Pig are compatible with each other, and it is good for marriage, the fortune-teller suggested to Yiey Em and Yiey Rin.

In Cambodian culture, it is customary for the groom to marry a much younger bride; Pa was eight years older than Mak. Generally, it is believed that it would be better for the groom to be more mature than the bride at the time of marriage. One week later, on the date selected by the fortune-teller, the formal engagement ceremony was conducted. My paternal grandparents Ta Khoutt and Yiey Rin, Pa, Mak, my maternal grandparents Kong Sean and Yiey Em, Kong Sean’s older brother Kong Chhur, Yiey Em’s older sisters, Yiey Prung and Yiey Sous, her older half-sisters, Yiey Meen and Yiey Ren, and many other relatives were present at the engagement ceremony. Pa’s parents were required to bring many varieties of fruits, homemade cakes wrapped with banana leaves, homemade cookies made from sweet rice and brown sugar, candles, incense, and a couple of new folded fabrics packed in small bundles with transparent color papers. Pa had to bring a gold ring to put on Mak’s ring finger. The ceremony was part of the tradition, and it also served as an indication to other bachelors to get lost because the bride has been engaged and would be married soon.

My father was born in Trawpoeng Kyoeng village. He had a caring and devoted father and a compassionate mother who had supported him throughout his college years. As a young teenager, Pa attended Kampot College at Kampot city, where he stayed with his cousin’s family, Om (aunt, older than my father) Toup. Om Toup is the oldest daughter of Yiey Ren, whose house is next to Trawpoeng Mao pond. My paternal grandfather, Ta Khoutt had a seasonal job as a farmer, but generated extra income by working as a horse-drawn carriage driver to provide financial support for Pa and his two other sons, Om (uncle, Pa’s older brother) Samoeurn (nickname Seem) and Po (uncle, Pa’s younger brother) Sonn (nickname Nhon). His great perseverance paid off. His goal of getting his three sons out of the peasant’s life was a success. Pa and Po Nhon became schoolteachers. Om Seem became a lieutenant with the military police. But Ta Khoutt’s optimistic plan for his three sons didn’t turn out to be as good as he had hoped. In fact, he only realized that the tireless efforts of driving a horse-drawn carriage under the scorching sun turned out to be a nightmare for him as I will discuss more in detail in one of the following chapters.

A year before marriage, Pa had graduated from the Kampot College. Kampot College was located at Kampot city, which was far away from his parents’ residence. It was near the Kep Beach Tourist Resort. The beach was very beautiful, with a great view of an island on the horizon. The sandy beach was as long as the eye could see, with many coconut trees planted in rows, some slanting over the water. The lengthy walkway along the shore had plenty of food stalls and street vendors who sold fresh, hot delicious foods. Many people hung out or strolled along the beach and had a good time there. Other people wallowed in the warm, blue, salty water among small groups of family or friends. None of the women, however, wore bikinis.

My father wanted to be a schoolteacher, but he didn’t pass the examination for his teaching credentials right after his graduation. He returned to his parents’ residence in Trawpoeng Kyoeng village, where he flirted with Miss Sambo (nickname Bo). Eventually, he fell in love with the young woman, who lived at the Trawpoeng Anghit village, a couple of kilometers away from Trawpoeng Kyoeng. My paternal grandmother, Yiey Rin was the only one who disapproved of Miss Bo because she knew Miss Bo’s family was much poorer than hers, and Miss Bo’s father was an alcoholic. She quickly thought of a pretext: "Pa’s birth in the Year of a Rabbit wouldn’t be compatible for marriage with Miss Bo’s," she said. Yiey Rin often admonished my father in a coercive voice. "Stop making advances to Mee K-Bo! (It’s a derogatory way of calling Miss Bo.) There would be no happiness in your future with her." None of that mattered to Ta Khoutt. He would go along with any young woman whom my father chose to marry, as long as she maintained her chastity. Marrying an unchaste young woman would greatly damage the family’s reputation and dishonor the parents of the groom. Nevertheless, the young man doesn’t have to stoop so low in marrying a wife. On the other hand, marrying an unchaste young woman creates a sense of foreboding that the marriage would be a disaster.

In Cambodian culture, most people practice arranged marriage, and the most important decision rests with either one of the parents, usually the father. Indeed, the young woman would be given a chance to accept or reject the proposal. If she already has had someone else in mind, a man of her dreams, she could always say, ‘No.’ But if the parents really did like the young man who asked for their daughter’s hand, they would strongly convince her that, her waiting for the right man to come along is over, and she must go along with her parents’ decision to marry her with the man of her parents’ choice.

A good daughter wouldn’t refuse her parents’ choice, or the cake is never bigger than the scale, people always say. These are Cambodian idiomatic expressions, meaning the daughter never has the right to do anything over her parents’ objection.

Eloping rarely happened. The eloping couple would lose their parents’ share of land and financial support. Young men and young women are not allowed to date. Their common contact is merely through secretly exchanged love letters at school, or at the Buddhist temple gatherings for holiday events. Dancing is mostly allowed at the Romvoung (dance in a circle), with a respectful request from a man, but there would be no touching. Hand touching is sometimes possible, depending on the mood of the young woman.

During that summer of the same year, Pa married Mak; she was only fifteen years old, and Pa was twenty-three years old. Pa and Mak were never allowed to date before the marriage. In Cambodian culture, especially in the rural area, parents are very strict about allowing their young daughter to be out of their sight. The fear was that she could sneak out to meet with a man, or vice versa. In addition, parents who live in the rural areas often mistakenly perceive that education for their daughter is not important enough to risk the dignity and reputation of their family.

While Mak was attending Wat (Buddhist temple) Angkrew Elementary School, she failed to pay attention to Kru (teacher) Gnin for only a few seconds while he was talking. In rural Cambodia, it is common for a school to be built on the Buddhist temple ground. Consequently, she was hit very hard by a small rattan stick a few times on her back. The stick had a dual purpose: It was used for pointing to the words written on the chalkboard, as students practiced reading together, but also for hitting the students who misbehaved in class or didn’t sit up straight. The classmate sitting next to her was also hit for chit-chatting and giggling.

Most classrooms in Cambodia are divided into two sections, left and right. Usually, all girls would sit on one side of the classroom, and all boys would sit on the other. Mak was very upset with her teacher for hitting her for such a minor mistake. She had tears in her eyes due to the pain and embarrassment. Later that day, when she returned home, she showed those few slanted, swelled lines across her back to Yiey Em, and my grandmother also was very disappointed to see them.

"Kru Gnin is very vicious. He also hit me very hard when I was young in his classroom." Yiey Em bellowed.

From today on, Knuon doesn’t have to go to school anymore, she instructed.

The government failed to pass a law requiring children under the age of eighteen to attend school. My mother was still very young, and she wasn’t very sophisticated, so she dropped out of elementary school. After the incident, she stayed home, helping my grandmother around the