Cambodia Poem by Sheena Blackhall

You have crossed the mighty Mekong River
Its busy banks, where a child plays happily inside a cardboard box
His mother sells mangoes under the stunning sun

The twelfth century temples of Angkor Wat
Are nests of jungle jewels
A Tuk Tuk ride away from Siem Reap

A generation after the genocide by the Khmer Rouge
The people are wreathed with smiles

Go to Ta Promh temple, under siege by the jungle
Strangler figs with roots like a Thugee's garrotte
Pour over the crumbling walls.

Go to Phnom Penh.
Savour fish amok curry in banana leaf,
Sample tarantulas, crunchy fried crickets with froglets,
Red tree ants with beef and basil.

In the lanes of Siem Reap,
You may meet giant rats
Trained to safely sniff out landmines,
You may see Rehash Trash,
Women weaving discarded litter
Into colourful bags and homewares
You will certainly see whole families
Hanging together on a single scooter

More sombre, is the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, Phnom Penh.
Rooms displaying photographs of victims,
Instruments of torture
Human skulls
Handiwork of the monster Pol Pot
Who orchestrated the killing of 2 million souls

Pol Pot's Cambodia was a slave state
"To keep you is no profit; to destroy you is no loss'
Those killed were buried in fields, to act as fertilizer
Phnom Penh became a ghost city
25,000 Buddhist monks were massacred
300,000 Cambodians starved to death
Pol Pot, like the Devil, came with many names
Pouk, Hay, Pol,87, Grand-Uncle, Elder Brother,
First Brother,99 and Phem.
Telling a secretary,
‘The more often you change your name the better.
It confuses the enemy.'

This is an ancient land, withstands, survives
See the Terrace of the Elephants,
In the walled city of Angkor Thom
The Terrace of the Leper King

The Buddhist wheel of life goes trundling on