Letters from Indochina (Part 2)

This entry is part 2 of 44 in the series Letters from Indochina

April 1, 2025

Letters from Indochina (Part 2)

By Simon J. Lau

I’m still recovering from jet lag and kept waking up after 1 a.m. Eventually, I gave in and dragged myself out of bed around five to take a stroll around the neighborhood. Surprisingly, I wasn’t the only one up. By six, the city was already humming: street vendors were setting up, people were out on motorbikes, and the day was clearly underway.

As I made my way to the riverfront, I passed a group of sex workers sharing a meal at a modest, open-air restaurant. The area between my hotel and the riverfront is Phnom Penh’s red-light district, so it made sense they’d be out, winding down after a long night. Feeling hungry, I figured that if these women were eating here, the food had to be good. So I popped in for a meal. I’m so glad I did.

The pho was fantastic, the broth was rich and flavorful, and the Vietnamese-style coffee really hit the spot. Not quite the same as what I’m used to in Vietnam, but still very good. Coffee seems to be a staple here; the restaurant even had one person dedicated solely to brewing it. As I photographed her at work, she caught me mid-shot and simply smiled.

As a street photographer, it’s the small, unscripted moments that really stay with me: the eye contact, half-smiles, and subtle nods. They say a lot about a place. I’ve found that the way people respond to a camera often reflects the broader atmosphere. In places where the economy’s dragging or the police are heavy-handed, people tend to tense up, sometimes even get angry, when they see me photograph them. But here in Cambodia, despite the challenges that come with being a developing country, there’s a real sense of ease. People are open, curious, and warm. Life spills into the streets. Unguarded, unpolished, and that’s what I love to shoot. The contrast is stark, but not surprising.

Later, I visited S-21, also known as the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. Once a high school, the site was transformed in 1976 into a prison and interrogation center under the brutal reign of the Khmer Rouge. More than 17,000 people were tortured and executed here. Today, the museum preserves the cells, instruments of torture, and countless haunting photographs of the victims, offering a sobering glimpse into Cambodia’s darkest chapter.

Afterward, I visited the Choeung Ek Killing Fields, the most infamous of the mass grave sites used by the Khmer Rouge. Just outside Phnom Penh, it’s where more than 20,000 people were executed, their remains buried in shallow pits that still scar the landscape. While Choeung Ek is the most well-known, it’s just one of over 300 killing fields across Cambodia. Many remain unmarked, hidden in remote mountain regions or in areas that were, and in some cases still are, heavily mined.

One of the most infamous landmarks at Choeung Ek is the Killing Tree, a seemingly ordinary tree that bore witness to unspeakable cruelty. Here, Khmer soldiers murdered infants and young children by seizing them by the ankles and smashing their skulls against the trunk, discarding their bodies into nearby pits. The method was horrifyingly pragmatic: bullets were to be conserved, even for children.

But the reason they were killed at all was rooted in ideology, the belief that if the parents were enemies of the regime, their children would inevitably grow up to become enemies too. As one Khmer Rouge slogan put it, “To dig up the grass, one must remove the roots.” To eliminate the threat completely, the children had to be executed as well. Today, the tree stands as both a silent witness and a memorial. Its gnarled bark is adorned with colorful bracelets, ribbons, and other offerings left by mourners and visitors, quiet gestures of grief, remembrance, and a refusal to forget.

The Khmer Rouge was a radical communist regime that ruled Cambodia from 1975 to 1979, led by Pol Pot. After years of civil war, the group seized control of Phnom Penh, toppling the U.S.-backed Lon Nol government. Determined to build a classless, agrarian utopia, they emptied the cities, abolished currency, and executed anyone associated with the old order, including intellectuals, professionals, and ethnic minorities. Their rule came to an end in early 1979, when Vietnamese forces invaded Cambodia and overthrew the regime, though Khmer Rouge remnants continued to resist in remote regions for years afterward.

The scale and brutality of the Khmer Rouge’s atrocities remain difficult to comprehend. Nearly two million Cambodians, about a quarter of the population, died through execution, starvation, or forced labor. Sites such as Tuol Sleng, Choeung Ek, and countless others stand today as haunting memorials to that dark era. Though the regime fell decades ago, its legacy continues to cast a long shadow across Cambodia.

To end on a lighter note, I decided to get a haircut. My barber, who looked like he could still be in high school, did a fantastic job. It was my first time getting a haircut abroad, at least as an adult, and the whole thing cost just $8 USD (tip included). An unbelievable bargain compared to the $50 I usually pay in San Francisco. I’d gladly come back again!