Saturday, November 4. Sobering day. Visited the local Killing Fields. A stupa filled with skulls. Detailed descriptions of what happened in the extermination camp.

We returned to the city for interviews with survivors, one 91 and the other in his 50s. Stunning difference of opinions on how to reflect on the past. The older man wanted to forgive but never forget. The torturers were not Buddhists in their hearts and will go to the Buddhist equivalent of hell. The younger wants revenge. Denied Buddhism exists.

Next was a tour of Tuol Sleng Prison (Museum), where people were tortured until they admitted working for the CIA and forced to accuse their family and friends of the same. Then they were sent to the Killing Fields. I didn’t actually walk the site, having seen prisons before. Rather, I had an illuminating discussion with Are about Buddhism’s passive reaction to the atrocities.

After lunch I walked the city. Bustling. Night and day from slow-moving Laos. I was repeatedly hounded to rent a tuk-tuk (“one hour tour!’). Approached by a pair of prostitutes on their way to the (“illegal”) red light district. Found sugar cane juice. Discovered the street where tuk-tuks are repaired (unprotected welders just off the street). A caravan of government cars, possibly carrying the prime minister (it included an ambulance). A Rolls Royce creeping down a trashy side-street. No homeless people that I noticed.

A jewelry shop closing for the day with a car parked in the store. It was an extremely humid day, so the clerk was shirtless, in his briefs, putting things away. Shocking, but understandable. Another store with the clerk sitting in a lawn chair next to the counter, fan at her feet.

Had dinner in the hotel. I was soaked with sweat.