Khmer Rouge

The back wheels clunk ever few seconds into the potholes on the road. We've been driving slowly for hours through the dark night, from the Thai/Cambodian border, towards the city of Siem Reap.

It's September 10th 2001.

The road, like the country, has been gutted. Left to decay from the fatigue of a massive genocide that happened two decades prior. Pol Pot has left his ugly mark.

Most of us are sitting on our knapsacks. Some of us are in agony. There have been no washroom stops -- for two reasons: 1. We are trying to not stir the attention of the Khmer Rouge, and so, for most of the journey we have been driving slowly without headlights; and 2. The road is narrow, the vehicle barely fits the width of it. To step off the road and onto the fields is like playing Russian roulette. There are just too many landmines.

So we all squirm, and keep quiet like we are instructed. We only have another hour or so to go, before we reach the city.

Crossing the border was agonizing. We did it on foot. The wait was endless. I poured over my guidebook and tried my best to commit to memory some safety instructions; including the most important: Never start your journey to Siem Reap after dusk. It's too dangerous.

At 11am, it seemed probable that we would be admitted through the gates just after lunch hour. So we sat, on the red clay -- baking in the sun. The border guards stared at us. I believe they were waiting for the drivers to return from taking people the day before. A 6 to 8 hour journey at best -- along unmaintained mud-trodden roads; riddled with landmines and guarded by the rebel army.

Some tourists did not make it to Siem Reap -- but those were the ones who were unwilling to co-operate. Unwilling to give up their valuables.

Those tourists were shot dead.

Just after 2pm we were allowed through the gate. Immediately we were rounded up by men who were collecting people to take to Siem Reap. We took a brief break to grab some food before hopping on a wagon hitched to a motorbike that would take us to our driver.

10 minutes later we were being rounded into a vehicle. It sat 8 to 10, but there were at least 16 of us. So, most of us had to sit in the aisle, and on the floor between the seats. It was our only option.

We left three hours before dusk. That would give us a 5 hour head start before the dark of night would fall on our road -- and by then we should be closer to the outskirts of Siem Reap. Drivers know better than to take their chances and risk antagonizing the Khmer Rouge, that may or may not be patrolling the roads. We trusted that our driver had calculated the time accordingly.

6 hours later the vehicle began to slow down. It had done this a few times before when approaching larger holes in the road. At the time, I assumed that we were re-evaluating a strategy.

I looked up and peered through the windshield. There were armed gunmen blocking the road in front of us. Both had baseball hats and red kerchiefs tied around their face.

We had made a pact at the start of the journey to hand over whatever they wanted. The only advantage we had is that they were still relatively isolated from the rest of the world -- so a lot of money to them would be relatively little to us. The strategy was to pour out what 'seemed' like all we had -- in hopes that it would satisfy them. They weren't there to kill any tourists. Just scare us and make a quick buck.

Our driver passed us his hat, and we placed whatever extra cash and expendable jewellery we had into the hat, and passed it back. My hope was that they would be happy with the richer currencies of Thai Baht, and American dollars.

They were.

The driver continued a conversation with them. For all we knew, it could be a scheme and they were his cousins. But it didn't matter. The country was poor enough, that if throwing some extra money their way would ease our safe passage -- then so be it.

A moment later the driver asks if anyone would like to use the washroom. The Khmer tell him to tell us that the area just off this road is safe from landmines. Some of us get out, including myself. I maneuver past one of the guards and walk to the back of the vehicle. Another woman walks behind me. One of the men walks into the field to pee; but I am not leaving the road. I'm not that brave.

We cop a squat and have a bit of a chat while the two of us pee on the road behind the vehicle. I sit there for a moment to let the wind drip me dry; and think how odd it is that I'm relatively calm despite being robbed at gunpoint by a rebel army.

We get back into the car. The Khmer Rouge ask the driver for some t-shirts -- which some of the men pass to the front; and with that the vehicle starts up again - this time with headlights. We are safe for the rest of the journey to Siem Reap.

And as the back wheels clunk along melodically along the unfinished bumpy road, I lay back on the floor and close my eyes.

And try and get some sleep.