I cannot imagine I haven't touched my blog for more than two years since I posted the last piece. Not that I've been too busy to write, but where to begin again really matters. Now, I have to urge myself to be more diligent. Now, I'd like to write down a horrible incident that is still in my memory. Here is what happened:
One day in 1975 in Khtum Prahaong, my mother and sister got permission from Angkar to go to a village nearby to barter for food. They both got up early in the morning and joined some other settlers who also had a permit. In a starving situation, I was very hopeful that I would get some good food to eat when they come back. My sense of good food those days was not anything much more than "rice" because for so many months after being evacuated from Phnom Penh and located in that haunting village, my family as well as other settlers were starving. It was a very long day waiting for my mother and sister. Very often I went to stand at the pathway expecting their return. Lunchtime came, my father cooked porridge (very little rice with a lot of water without other ingredients, even salt) and distributed a small portion to each of the kids, who at that time included one of my big sisters and two brothers. My other two younger brothers already left the world from starvation. Our meal did not last long as the porridge that we ate contained mostly water. I was very hungry while expecting food from my mother and sister. I was loitering around the hut suffering from hunger. Suddenly, I saw a lizard crawling by the bush. I immediately thought if I could catch that lizard, it could release my hunger. Within a moment of effort, I was able to kill it. Without waiting too long, I grilled that lizard on a small fire that I had made and ate it. I still remember the taste --- it tastes almost nothing but the smoke from the fire -- no flesh, but all the bone, so after all, I remained hungry.
The sun almost set, my mother and sister still did not return, I was very anxious, and so was my father who was ill. I continued to wait on the pathway. Suddenly, I saw three people appearing from far. I looked at them with great attention trying to figure out whether they were my mother and sister. Part of me thought it should not be them as there were three people, but when they came nearer, I realized it was my mother and sister. I was shocked when I noticed that both their hands were tied up to their back, and they were escorted by a man who carried a big knife like a sword. What should I do? I felt so reluctant to walk toward them, but I did. Instead of heading toward our hut, the man ordered them to walk toward their office. My mother told me not to follow her, but to go back to our hut to let my father know that she and my sister were arrested. She whispered to me not to worry, the problem will be solved. I felt shocked and sad at the same time; my heart was crying, but tears did not come out for so many reasons, and I think the main reason was that I was too weak to even cry.
With exhaustion, I walked back slowly to tell my father what I saw. He walked slowly out of the hut and told all the kids to stay calm and not to follow him. We all were very anxious to know what was happening while waiting at the hut. About an hour later, my father came back, but not my mother and sister. We all curiously asked Father what was happening. Father told us that mother and sister were accused of stealing beans from the farm, which is an act that cannot be tolerated by Angkar. "What will happen to them?", we all asked; "I don't know, but they ordered me to come back", replied my father. We all became even more worried. About an hour later, after going through the so-called education, both my mother and sister were released and back to see us. We were so happy to see them back without any harm.
According to my mother, this was what happened. On the way back from the village where she was only able to barter for a small portion of salt of about 200 grams with a small piece of pumpkin of about 300 grams, they found wild beans that grew along the fence of a small farm. They picked those beans with the understanding that they grew wild. The guy, who was known as "Chhlorb", literarily means police, arrested them with the charge of stealing. On the way after she was arrested, my mother asked permission to go for a pee, where she got a chance to hide the salt as she was concerned that it would be confiscated. My mother and sister had to beg the apology for their wrongdoing due to their innocence. They thought the beans grew wild, which in reality it was true that no one grew it. However, they could not go against Agnkar. The next day after all this hassle, my mother went back to collect the salt that she had hidden. That was the first time of all those several months in this haunting village, my family had the chance to taste salt again for a short time.
Whatever had happened to them, we finally knew that they were safe and back with family. However, my hope of having food to fill up my stomach remained in vain, and my hunger continued.
Mother, Nou Yeb, born 1933 died 2006
Sister, Moul Varun, born 1955, died 1977
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