Holiday In Cambodia
*
The heat dripped through everything. There was no escape. The generation which had developed the rest of Asia into the astonishing place it now is had been wiped out in Cambodia. There were pockets of expensive Western luxury along the river front; German sausages and banana splits and beer, lots of beer. But the vendors crowded across the local train station; there were no passenger services in the whole of Cambodia, no government bus service, and infrastructure remained ad hoc. God smiled on our endeavour and we left only one hour late; was the expression in the Cambodian Daily. S21 was probably the saddest, most blighted place he had ever been. Pain and a terrible sadness still hung in the walls. Of the thousands who passed through there, only seven are known to survive.
They were only children for Christ's sake, he thought, staring at the seemingly endless rows of faces, men, women, pain wracked bodies; and then the kids, much like the cheeky kids he saw along the streets each morning as he walked out for coffee; each evening as he wandered the streets and the bars. It was like going back in time. And it was certainly more like India than Thailand. Everything wasted away. Shadows passed. One kid after another; gone, gone. Rarely, in the blizzard of photos, one stood straight with a smile in their eye. They still had hope. They thought they could talk their way out of this one. No doubt reality had set in very quickly.
There were those famous pictures of the abandoned city, the girl posing with a baby in the empty street. Love was forbidden. Currency was forbidden. All was forbidden. And you know what's really f...ed; Ross said. They say Pol Pot disappeared into the jungles. Or lived out his final days in Thailand. Until the international community got restive, he lived here in Pnom Penh, quietly in the suburbs. As if nothing had happened. No wonder the people felt schitzophrenic, frightened, years later. Tell them about the death camps, tell them about the death camps, the inebriated man said, embracing his Khmer mother-in-law. She sat there with tears in her eyes. It was appalling. Nothing could be forgiven. The heat confirmed all that he had feared.
In the brazen choking of all last options; in a world and a life where fate lines were coalescing into a single path, every deviate hid in a corner, every path was fatal; the shops were full and yet he dared not enter. Tourists gathered along the strip. The marble floors gleamed each morning after the boy had cleaned them. The sky lightened and the world erupted. Diseased, he could barely breathe. Yet hope was not absent. Despair failed to mark his every hour; the world was not a glutinous, evil place. And the sun shone and the world shook; and the muffled shock waves that spread across the land was awesome in its power. They had just been a bunch of silly, middle class boys, partying on.
While the horror of Cambodia, the Khmer Rouge and Pol Pot, the forced marches, the death of a million people, the torturing of intellectuals, of anyone suspect, had grimaced through the country in the most terrible pain, all in the name of socialism, he had been lost in a different place; the staggeringly beautiful landscapes of Australia; our little gang, my little gang, almost all dead now, partying like there was no tomorrow, there in the heart of Sydney. Every turn of every street opened up another vista; and he had owned them all. Everything was going to be alright. He grimaced and yet there was nothing wrong. The horror might have just begun; but it was a very small and self indulgent horror indeed in contrast to the pain of a whole country. And so he whizzed about town on the back of a moto, cheerfully over paying the driver; or caught a tuk tuk home through the crowded traffic; and never complained, always tipped. Like other tourists, they seemed to think it was the least they could do. The country would thrive; on the verge of a boom; and all those kind dollars would be forgotten in the rush to modernity.
THE BIGGER STORY:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/australiaandthepacific/australia/7361061/Australian-opposition-leader-lost-in-outback.html
Mr Abbott had set off with a small party on quad bikes to visit Aboriginal sacred sites located deep into Watarrka land in the Northern Territory.
However, once they reached their destination of Fossil Creek several members of the group, including the leader of the Liberal Party, became separated from their guide.
In a dream scenario for Kevin Rudd, the prime minister, Mr Abbott, who has been gaining in the polls, had no way of communicating with the outside world.
In desperation, Mr Abbott attempted to send a text message to his press secretary reading: "WERELOSTNEARFOSSILCREEK" but the message would not send because there was no mobile coverage.
Other members of the group considered using an emergency satellite phone to raise the alarm, but no one knew how to make a call from it.
As the hours wore on the situation looked increasingly dire.
Six hours after losing their guide Ian Conway, a local Aboriginal entrepreneur, and with daylight fading, Mr Abbott and his companions were stuck in unfamiliar country, with no idea of the way out and only T-shirts and trousers to protect against the cold Outback night.
"Our safety is not at risk, mate, but our comfort sure is," Mr Abbott reportedly declared.
Luckily, Mr Conway reappeared just before the sun set. The group then endured a hair-raising 40 mile journey on quad bikes in the dark before reaching the safety of their Kings Creek station.
http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2010/03/04/2835999.htm?section=justin
There are fears of a large-scale attack in Iraq in the coming days after more than 30 people were killed in blasts yesterday, just days out from the country's national election.
Three suicide attackers killed more than 30 people and injured more than 50 in Baquba, north-east of Baghdad, yesterday afternoon.
Baquba was notorious as a stronghold for violent Sunni insurgents and yesterday they showed they could still hit hard.
Two police stations were hit simultaneously by the separate car bomb attacks.
Police say as the wounded were being taken to hospital, a third attacker dressed as a police officer rode with them in an ambulance and then blew himself up when they arrived at hospital.
The militants are believed to be linked to Al Qaeda and the operation appeared highly organised.
Security has been tight as Iraqis prepare to go to the polls this weekend in the country's second national election since the overthrow of Saddam Hussein.
Yesterday's violence had been expected, but Iraqis still fear an even bigger attack from Al Qaeda in their efforts to disrupt the vote.
The heat dripped through everything. There was no escape. The generation which had developed the rest of Asia into the astonishing place it now is had been wiped out in Cambodia. There were pockets of expensive Western luxury along the river front; German sausages and banana splits and beer, lots of beer. But the vendors crowded across the local train station; there were no passenger services in the whole of Cambodia, no government bus service, and infrastructure remained ad hoc. God smiled on our endeavour and we left only one hour late; was the expression in the Cambodian Daily. S21 was probably the saddest, most blighted place he had ever been. Pain and a terrible sadness still hung in the walls. Of the thousands who passed through there, only seven are known to survive.
They were only children for Christ's sake, he thought, staring at the seemingly endless rows of faces, men, women, pain wracked bodies; and then the kids, much like the cheeky kids he saw along the streets each morning as he walked out for coffee; each evening as he wandered the streets and the bars. It was like going back in time. And it was certainly more like India than Thailand. Everything wasted away. Shadows passed. One kid after another; gone, gone. Rarely, in the blizzard of photos, one stood straight with a smile in their eye. They still had hope. They thought they could talk their way out of this one. No doubt reality had set in very quickly.
There were those famous pictures of the abandoned city, the girl posing with a baby in the empty street. Love was forbidden. Currency was forbidden. All was forbidden. And you know what's really f...ed; Ross said. They say Pol Pot disappeared into the jungles. Or lived out his final days in Thailand. Until the international community got restive, he lived here in Pnom Penh, quietly in the suburbs. As if nothing had happened. No wonder the people felt schitzophrenic, frightened, years later. Tell them about the death camps, tell them about the death camps, the inebriated man said, embracing his Khmer mother-in-law. She sat there with tears in her eyes. It was appalling. Nothing could be forgiven. The heat confirmed all that he had feared.
In the brazen choking of all last options; in a world and a life where fate lines were coalescing into a single path, every deviate hid in a corner, every path was fatal; the shops were full and yet he dared not enter. Tourists gathered along the strip. The marble floors gleamed each morning after the boy had cleaned them. The sky lightened and the world erupted. Diseased, he could barely breathe. Yet hope was not absent. Despair failed to mark his every hour; the world was not a glutinous, evil place. And the sun shone and the world shook; and the muffled shock waves that spread across the land was awesome in its power. They had just been a bunch of silly, middle class boys, partying on.
While the horror of Cambodia, the Khmer Rouge and Pol Pot, the forced marches, the death of a million people, the torturing of intellectuals, of anyone suspect, had grimaced through the country in the most terrible pain, all in the name of socialism, he had been lost in a different place; the staggeringly beautiful landscapes of Australia; our little gang, my little gang, almost all dead now, partying like there was no tomorrow, there in the heart of Sydney. Every turn of every street opened up another vista; and he had owned them all. Everything was going to be alright. He grimaced and yet there was nothing wrong. The horror might have just begun; but it was a very small and self indulgent horror indeed in contrast to the pain of a whole country. And so he whizzed about town on the back of a moto, cheerfully over paying the driver; or caught a tuk tuk home through the crowded traffic; and never complained, always tipped. Like other tourists, they seemed to think it was the least they could do. The country would thrive; on the verge of a boom; and all those kind dollars would be forgotten in the rush to modernity.
THE BIGGER STORY:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/australiaandthepacific/australia/7361061/Australian-opposition-leader-lost-in-outback.html
Mr Abbott had set off with a small party on quad bikes to visit Aboriginal sacred sites located deep into Watarrka land in the Northern Territory.
However, once they reached their destination of Fossil Creek several members of the group, including the leader of the Liberal Party, became separated from their guide.
In a dream scenario for Kevin Rudd, the prime minister, Mr Abbott, who has been gaining in the polls, had no way of communicating with the outside world.
In desperation, Mr Abbott attempted to send a text message to his press secretary reading: "WERELOSTNEARFOSSILCREEK" but the message would not send because there was no mobile coverage.
Other members of the group considered using an emergency satellite phone to raise the alarm, but no one knew how to make a call from it.
As the hours wore on the situation looked increasingly dire.
Six hours after losing their guide Ian Conway, a local Aboriginal entrepreneur, and with daylight fading, Mr Abbott and his companions were stuck in unfamiliar country, with no idea of the way out and only T-shirts and trousers to protect against the cold Outback night.
"Our safety is not at risk, mate, but our comfort sure is," Mr Abbott reportedly declared.
Luckily, Mr Conway reappeared just before the sun set. The group then endured a hair-raising 40 mile journey on quad bikes in the dark before reaching the safety of their Kings Creek station.
http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2010/03/04/2835999.htm?section=justin
There are fears of a large-scale attack in Iraq in the coming days after more than 30 people were killed in blasts yesterday, just days out from the country's national election.
Three suicide attackers killed more than 30 people and injured more than 50 in Baquba, north-east of Baghdad, yesterday afternoon.
Baquba was notorious as a stronghold for violent Sunni insurgents and yesterday they showed they could still hit hard.
Two police stations were hit simultaneously by the separate car bomb attacks.
Police say as the wounded were being taken to hospital, a third attacker dressed as a police officer rode with them in an ambulance and then blew himself up when they arrived at hospital.
The militants are believed to be linked to Al Qaeda and the operation appeared highly organised.
Security has been tight as Iraqis prepare to go to the polls this weekend in the country's second national election since the overthrow of Saddam Hussein.
Yesterday's violence had been expected, but Iraqis still fear an even bigger attack from Al Qaeda in their efforts to disrupt the vote.
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