How do we tell the story?

War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam

A chemical defoliant tank

While I am a low key history nerd (ok, maybe not that low key) my interests tend to focus more on the cultural side of history and less on wars. This means that while I have some vague memories of discussing the Vietnam War in history classes growing up, I honestly did not know very much. Since moving to South East Asia I've learned a bit more, as the American War, since Cambodia was one of the countries affected by the war. A basic, extremely barebones, summary of the history is while North Vietnam, officially the Democratic Republic of Vietnam, won it's independence from colonial France in 1945 as a communist state, South Vietnam did not gain independence until sometime later. When the South became independent they chose to become a democracy separate from the North. This decision to not unite with the North lead to the war from 1955 until the fall of Saigon in 1975.¹ The War was essentially a proxy war for the Soviet Union and the United States because of the supports they provided.

American military airplane

With this in mind, I headed over to Vietnam for the first time. My first stop was the city of Ho Chi Minh, formerly known as Saigon and the former capital of South Vietnam. The one thing I knew I wanted to do in the city was go to the War Remnants Museum. The entrance to the museum is a courtyard filled with airplanes, tanks, and other vehicles used but the Americans during the war.² It struck me as a bit odd that there weren't Vietnamese vehicles as well, until I realized they really did not have many. The American military had them out armed by a long shot.

Propaganda poster

I started on an exhibit focused on support for a united Vietnam- well, what the Museum colors as support. The examples of support the museum used included the antiwar movement in the United States. This goes against the little I know about the movement, which I always saw a movement against the U.S. involvement in the war, not a support of North Vietnam. Starting from this exhibit made the story the museum was trying to tell very clear: the US was an aggressor who tried to keep the North and South separated, while the South and the rest of the world thought Vietnam should be one whole. This was taken to such an extreme that any kind of dissent against the war was colored at support. They even used the term the War of American Aggression.³ This framing of the story continued throughout the museum with exhibits such as "Aggression War Crimes", which featured examples of war crimes including torture and the murder of civilians committed by the U.S. Military, and one on the continuing effects of Agent Orange and other chemicals.

Example of a trap in Cu Chi

While I continued to digest this narrative, I decided to visit the Cu Chi Tunnels. The Tunnels were used by the Viet Cong and other local communist supporters. Since they were out gunned by the Americans they had to use more innovative strategies to survive. In Cu Chi District they dug a complex series of tunnels, including multiple levels for traveling, fighting, and living. Local community members and the fighters lived in the tunnels with no electricity, and would only come out at night to do things like tend crops, collect weapons or tools left by the Americans, and fight. The tunnels were designed to be just big enough for the Vietnamese to fit, since they were often significantly smaller than American soldiers, and included landmines and traps just incase part of the tunnels were infiltrated. There were other traps in the area, designed to trap and injure anyone you stepped on them, mainly with the goal of capturing them in order to trade the soldiers for supplies including medicine.⁴

Inside a tunnel in Cu Chi

I figured the tour would have a similar slant as the museum, and considering it started with a propaganda video from the 1960's about the the tunnel it easily could have been if it wasn't for our tour guide.⁵ The tour guide made a point of talking about the tunnels as a strategy, and made multiple reference to the Saigon based democratic government of the time. While he did not say anything outright to contradict the narrative of the American aggressor, he also didn't emphasize it, and spoke about the the people in the Cu Chi region who sided with the democracy.

"Hanoi, Hue, Saigon. Homeland is indivisible."

I remember my AP U.S. History teacher once telling me the victor writes history.⁶ This experience both confirmed and denied her theory in my mind. In Vietnam, the victor was clearly telling their narrative of unity and victory over the American aggressors. While in the States we avoid telling the story, and when we do we make it as bare bones as possible and tinged it with regret. I would love to be able to hear other sides of the story- stories of dissent within Vietnam, or stories from those who supported the democracy.

Witnessing these differing narratives, and reflecting upon how they have likely changed since the war itself, makes me wonder about the stories and narratives we will tell about our current world conflicts. In forty years will we avoid talking about Iraq? In fifty years will we speak with regret about our military actions in Syria? And maybe most importantly, what can we do now to make sure we like the stories that will be told?

Disappearing into the Cu Chi tunnels:

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1 That's long enough that young soldiers who fought during the beginning of the war could feasibly have children who were old enough to serve near the end of the war.^↩

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2 There was also a tank at the Cu Chi Tunnels which tourists used as a photo op and jungle gym, while I stood there furious, thinking to myself "this is a weapon meant to destroy and kill."^↩

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3 This reminded me of how some parts of the U.S. talk about the Civil War.^↩

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4 As you can imagine life in underground tunnels wasn't a very hygienic, and a significant number of people who lived in the tunnels died from illness.^↩

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5 After the video, my seat buddy turned to me and jokingly announced "Well, I think I'm a communist now."^↩

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6 Except for the Civil War, according to this teacher.^↩

Made it to the Motherland

Mandy, Justin, and me celebrating Christmas with Grandma

Bois Cheri Tea Plantation

I've put this blog off for a long time. Probably too long. My dad has been chiding me to write it for months now, but I have just not been able to articulate my feelings. I got to spend Christmas in Mauritius this year, with my sister, Mandy, and her husband, Justin. I know what you're thinking "Hannah did another trip to some random, cool, tropical place. So what? What's there to have so many feelings about?" The thing is, this was not just another trip for me. This was a visit to where my mother is from, this was a trip to my homeland, this was the first time I met my grandmother and other members of my extended family, and this was the first time I spent Christmas with family in four years.

Mandy and me by the Indian Ocean in Mahebourg

While my Mom is from Mauritius, I'd never really considered going there. I had thought about going to or even working in Malawi, where my mom spent most her life and where my parents met, but for some reason Mauritius hadn't crossed my mind. That changed in November 2015, when Mandy presented the idea of going to Mauritius for Christmas in a year. At the time it was just so out of my budget that I couldn't really consider it. But, almost a year later in October of 2016, I randomly searched the prices for a flight to Mauritius and discovered a discount airline had just opened up a flight there, for about half the price. While it was still probably out of my budget, I decided it was now or never, and after a little coordination with my sister I booked my trip.

Biking up to the Seven Colored Earths

My mom's sister, Auntie Patty. and her husband, Uncle Antoine, enthusiastically agreed to pick me up from the airport. I was racked with nerves: what if we didn't recognized each other? I walked to the greeting area with a mild level of panic, until I saw a tall young man (who turned out to be my cousin) waving at me and pointing to the side. I followed his directions and approached a man and woman who looked vaguely familiar and were very happy to see me. Thankfully they were the correct people and not some randos.

A bit of circus practice with Mandy

I then spent the rest of the day with them, and spent the night with my Grandmother and my Uncle Eric. You now what's weirdly nerve racking? Meeting your grandmother for the first time. This is especially true when you discover she doesn't really speak much English, and you don't speak French or Mauritian Creole. (Thanks alot for that, Mom and Dad!) But she is adorable, and so sweet, and so loving, that having to mime everything out to each other wasn't terrible.

The next day the family and I met Mandy and Justin at the airport, we got lunch, and then we separated and settled into our hotels. Mandy, Justin, and I spent the next week or so exploring the island, attempting to learn more of the history of the island (I learned the Dutch found it and named it Mauritius which is why the French call it Maurice), biking up mountains, and relaxing at the beach. Spending time with them was so much fun, and I found it especially meaningful since I rarely get the chance to spend time with them.

Christmas Dinner with Uncle Eric and Grandma

On Christmas morning, the three of us jumped into Mandy and Justin's rented car and drove over to Auntie Patty's house, where we joined the rest of the family for Christmas dinner. I had fun chatting with my cousins, and playing with my cousin's adorable son who, with his limited English, invited me to play with him by announcing, "Hannah! Coming play Angry Birds!" After dinner there was a brief exchange of presents. I didn't tell anyone at the time, but this was the first time I had presents to open on Christmas day in four years and I was extremely touched to be included.

The Seven Colored Earths

My last day in Mauritius was a long one. Mandy, Justin, and I checked out of our hotels early in the morning, and went on a hike up a mountain. Between this and the bike ride, I learned Mandy is way too perky about exercise for my taste, and I respond to this by becoming extremely grumpy. While we were unable to go all the way to the way to the top of the mountain, we did get some breath taking views of the island and the ocean. After our hike, we made our way to Mandy and Justin's last hotel where we relaxed and did a bit of exploring. Auntie Patty and Uncle Antoine picked me up in the evening to take me to the airport, with a stop for a late dinner with Grandma and Uncle Eric along the way. A little after midnight, I boarded my plane and left the motherland.

The view from Le Morne Brabant Mountian

I cannot fully express the depth of emotions I felt in Mauritius. All I can say is that I have never been anywhere so beautiful and I cannot wait to go back.

Belle Voce Community Choir Christmas Concert 2016

Difficult Job of the ECCC

ECCC Emblem

About a year ago, I visited the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia (ECCC), also known as the Khmer Rouge Trials. I wrote about the visit and the structure of the Chambers in the post "Khmer Rouge Trials." A few weeks ago, I returned to the ECCC with a group from MCC, including many of the Service Workers, the Myanmar Rep, and this years SALTers and YAMENers.

We drove out during lunch, and sat in to witness the afternoon session. The court is still trying Case 002/02, against Noun Chea and Khieu Samphan for "allegations of genocide against the Muslim Cham and the Vietnamese, grave breaches of the 1949 Geneva Conventions, forced marriages and rape, purges, persecution of Buddhist, as well as other crimes against humanity." The testimony I witnessed during this visit was that of a former Khmer Rouge Cadre, who claims to have been in charge of photography at S-21 prison (now known as Toul Sleng Genocide Museum). He claims to have been in charge of photographing and developing the photographs of prisoners as they were brought into the prison, and of those who died in custody from either sickness or torture. This witness' testimony uncut the testimony of another who claimed to have been in charge of photography at the prison, and this kind of mixed message serves to create doubt as to the chain of command in the Khmer Rouge. For more information on this testimony see this Phnom Penh Post article. 

This testimony is an example of the difficulty faced by those involved in establishing legal guilt or innocence in cases of mass atrocities and breaches of international human rights laws. Not only do specific crimes need to be proven, but the defendants need to be proven as both part of the chain of command and also high enough in it to take the blame for the violations.While it is evident that horrible mass atrocities occurred during the Khmer Rouge Regime, known at Democratic Kampuchea, by the relocation of many citizens of Cambodia and the deaths of about 1.5 million people (out of a population of 7-8 million), establishing the existence of specific crimes under both Cambodian and International law during the period and the guilt of specific leaders if difficult. Almost 40 years has passed since the fall of the regime, and thus much evidence has been lost. Time, trauma, and old age has compromised the credibility of many witness. Some known members of the party have not been called upon to testify. The Chamber's priority in charging those most responsible for the atrocities is made difficult by contradictory accounts and blurry chain of commands, as well as the prerogative to establish what it means to be most responsible. 

Watching this case reminded me that events and history, and guilt and innocence are so often more grey then clear cut black and white. There may never be satisfying answers to what happened, all the causes, and the people involved. Those we view as guilty can almost always find ways to deflect blame. I do not envy the jobs of the judges, or lawyers, for both the defense and the prosecution, in cases of human rights and international law violation such at these. I wish them all the best in discovering and understanding as much of the truth as they can in order to bring a sense of finality and relief to the victims and witnesses of the terrible things that humans are capable of doing to one another.

Visiting Prey Sar

Every time we drive up to Prey Sar Prison, I think about how strange it feels. Every month, a few of us from the Returnee Integration Support Center (RISC) go to Prey Sar, the largest prison in Cambodia, to visit some returnees who are imprisoned there. Entering the prison complex feels nothing like I expect a prison to feel. Admittedly, I have never visited a prison in the US, or anywhere else, but in my mind prisons are dark and overwhelming concrete. I think of high walls around the complex, and large buffer zones around that, lots of security, and few people other than staff and security coming and going.

Prey Sar is not what I imagined. The dirt road leading up to the prison is lined with houses, printing shops, and coffee shops. While there is a security stop before the parking lot, there's a restaurant and small store after the stop. After we park, we receive our NGO passes, and go through another round of security, in the office behind the concrete wall of the prison. My RISC coworker presents our paperwork and the packages of toiletries we bring for the returnees are checked for contraband like illegal drugs, weapons, and SIM cards. After this we each get pat down and leave the security area.

There are three different visiting areas: a section where visitors and inmates are separated by a glass wall, an area where visitor can sit with inmates often used by families, and a building used by visiting NGOs, lawyers, and such. The building is surrounded by a garden, with trees and flowers lining the pathway, and little animal statues in the flowers. The building itself is concrete with open doorways and glasses windows, similar to many Cambodian buildings. There are three rooms, two for visitors and one for the guards in the center, and there are two benches in front of the building. Each of the visiting rooms has a table, a bench and several chairs. The area where the inmates are imprisoned is behind another walled area, with security officers manning the gate between the two sections.

Currently, there are about 15 returnees imprisoned in Cambodia. These men (they are all men at this time) for the most part have found themselves caught up in similar systems of illegal activities as they were in the States, and are imprisoned for minor crimes for a few years. When RISC visits, the returnees are notified and come to the visiting area to speak with us. They all wear orange or blue shirts and pants, depending upon their conviction status, and rubber sandals. The men always great us cheerily, and sit and chat with us as we give them some cash to buy food and water, and the toiletries packages.

Prisons in Cambodia do not provide much for inmate. Prisoners are expected to pay for food and drinking water, and are not given toiletries. Many prisoners have family who will bring such things to them, but for many returnees they don't have family here to care for them in such ways so RISC fills that gap. We've also brought the returnees new sandals and donated medicine such as aspirin on occasion.

While many people react negatively, or worry for me, when I tell them that part of my work is visiting prisoners, it's honestly one of my favorite responsibilities. The guys are always happy to see us, to have people to speak to in English and to hear about the outside world. They tell me about their families, especially if they've recent had a visit- one gentleman loves to tell me about his young son- and they always ask me about my work. They complain about their sentences and the heat. Several of them commented when I came to visit after cutting the pink out of my hair.

2 Years Down, 1 to Go!

With MCC staff at a Khmer Wedding

I can't believe I didn't post a 2 year anniversary post! Well better late than never!

I've officially been in Cambodia for over two years now. I could never have imagined everything these past two years have held. This year I've been horseback riding, said hello and goodbye to many friends, I held a monkey, I found a new passion in the circus, I've attended weddings, I've visited Kep, Koh Kong, Bangkok, Siem Reap, Angkor Wat, Kuala Lumpur, and Bali, I've climbed a waterfall, I've performed in a choir concert, I've taken a home leave and been able to reconnect with my family and old friends, I've visited the Khmer Rouge Trials twice, I've lead part of a workshop, I've gone on prison visits, I've been to workshops in the province, I've made new amazing friends and reconnected with old ones, and most of all I've learned so much about myself that I'm not sure I could put it all into words.

Riding in Areyksat

Holding a monkey in Kep

Going to a Khmer wedding

Wearing a traditional skirt at a workshop

MCC retreat in Koh Kong

Waterfall during MCC Retreat in Koh Kong

Canal tour in Bangkok

Belle Voce Community Choir Christmas Concert

Celebrating at an MCC Wedding

Thmor Roung during WPM Staff Retreat

Bayon Temple at Angkor Wat

Baltimore with friends on home leave

Philly Friends during home leave

Favorite resturant in Kep

Silks class at the circus

Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur

Terraced farming in Bali with Rachel

Contortion class at the circus

YALT farewell boatride

Hoop/lyra class at the circus

Here's to another year of adventures and learning!

Circus Fun

I was never an athletic child. I did gymnastics for a few months in elementary school, and I joined my 8th grade field hockey team for part of a season. That's pretty much all the sports I did. My mom spent most of high school trying to convince me to join a sports team, field hockey, tennis, cheerleading, anything. She thought it would be good for me, though she always framed it as something that would be good for my college applications. I didn't really like sports though. I was tiny, skinny, and weak. I didn't have good hand-eye coordination, I couldn't run fast or for long distances, and when I tried I always felt like my ankles were giving out.

It wasn't until I was sixteen that I found a sport I enjoyed. Several of my friends owned horses, so once we were able to drive ourselves places, they started teaching me how to horseback ride. Horseback riding was frustrating and tiring, and it didn't come naturally to me, but I loved it. The more frustrated I was, the more I was determined to learn it and do it well. Luckily for me, my college offered discounted riding lessons through the equestrian club. I took lessons all four years, and I still can't really canter, but I loved every minute of it. I tried out dance classes, yoga, and pilates during college too, but riding was always my favorite.

In the normal world though, anything equestrian related is expensive- lessons, gear, horses, you name it, it probably costs an arm and a leg. This is especially true when you technically don't have an income. I tried to make myself go to the gym, but I wasn't good at going regularly, so I sought out a fun, interesting, inexpensive fitness classes in Phnom Penh- mostly to not feel like a lazy bum who went from sitting in front of a computer at work to sitting in front of computer at home, but also to give myself something fun to do outside of work (and you know that health thing).

What I found was the circus and aerial arts classes offered by the National Circus School of Cambodia. The school opened in 1980, mainly teaching students who had lost their parents during the Khmer Rouge Regime, and helped to resurrect traditional Khmer circus art. The Cambodian run school teaches young Cambodians both full time and part time, features performances at their own big top (these performances are sadly currently on hiatus because of storm damage to the tent), sponsors a competitive troupe, and offers drop in classes for locals and foreigners.

Since November, I've had the joy of attending tumbling and flexibility/contortion classes with two of the professional circus artists and teachers at the school (one of whom was a competitor on the show Cambodia's Got Talent). These classes are always both a challenge and some of the most fun parts of my week. It's been amazing to see how much I've improved in the past few months. When I first started I couldn't quite do a split with my right leg forward or hold myself in a bridge for very long, but now both are comfortable positions I can hold for some time. I'm still working on doing a full split with my left leg forward- hopefully I'll get there soon. I often wake up so sore that I contemplate calling in sick after tumbling, but for the first time in my life I revel in the feeling. Last week I attended my first aerial silks class (basically you do tricks while hanging from two pieces of cloth suspended from the ceiling)- at one point during the class I had a flashback to being a weakling elementary schooler who couldn't do any tricks on the monkey bars, which made me even prouder when I achieved the moves and poses. While the regular silks class does not fit into my schedule at the moment, I look forward to joining the classes in the near future.

Who knows, maybe I've finally found my athletic side?