When Broken Glass Floats: Growing Up Under the Khmer Rouge Paperback Read Free Page B

pursuit of important things. Education. Medical school. I wanted to make a difference in the world, to do good deeds, fulfill a child’s wish. There would be a time for memories, but I never anticipated it, never sought it out. There would be a time.
    As I sit in the eerie glow of my computer screen summoning up the past, I know that it is time. I invite the memories back in, apprehensive but hungry for them. In trying to understand my drive to tell others what was scorched in my mind, I recognize my fortitude and ambition, which are rooted in the people who gave me life—my parents.

A Heavenly Comet Foreshadows War
     
    The New York Times
Phnom Penh, Cambodia—March 28, 1969
     
    (A GENCE F RANCE P RESS )
    The head of state, Prince Norodom Sihanouk, charged today that “Vietnamese Communists were increasingly infiltrating into Cambodia.” The prince showed newsmen here a detailed map drawn up by his general staff showing Communist implantation in Cambodia.
     
     
    M y parents’ future marriage had already been decided when they were children. Both their parents told them that someday they would marry each other. Both came from well-to-do families, which caused wide speculation about the marriage. Some thought that they were paired up because the brothers Kong Houng and Kong Lorng didn’t want their wealth dispersed. This way, the family wealth was centralized. And in Cambodian culture, it’s common for cousins to marry.
    Fortunately, my father’s feelings were in harmony with the ideas of his elders. When Pa turned seventeen, he fell in love with Mak . She was a bright girl, and strong in her ideas. As a child, she would sneak away to the Buddhist temple to learn to read and write in Khmer, and to read Pali, the language of the Cambodian bible. In time, she picked up French as well, a skill that was forbidden for women. Parents didn’t want a daughter to have education for fear that she would write love letters before they had had a chance to arrange a suitable marriage. Denying education was but one way to cloister her. In many ways, Mak defied that, secretly studying on her own.
    This was the girl Pa fell in love with—a bright, headstrong young woman who spoke her mind. Hardly the demure, traditional Cambodian bride. But Pa , too, knew his own mind. He waited patiently for his parents to fulfill their promise, to make the arrangements for him to marry Mak . Tradition required them to approach Mak ’s family for a formal engagement. Investigations would follow, including interviews with others about the class and behavior of the groom and his family. But they took too long. Pa couldn’t wait. He went to his favorite aunt, Yiey Om, in Srey Va village. He begged her to serve as his guardian, to ask Yiey Srem and Kong Lorng for Mak ’s hand. Understanding the depth of both her nephew’s love and his fear—that any man could come at any time to claim Mak’s hand—she took a boat to Prey Ronn village. She was an unlikely messenger of love, but effective.
    Mak ’s parents agreed to speed up the marriage. But Cambodian tradition still must be followed. His parents, Kong Houng and Yiey Khmeng, were required to formally seek the approval of Mak ’s parents. Permission was granted. At seventeen, Pa finally got his wish, marrying Mak , a slightly confused fourteen-year-old bride.
    Pa brought her to Year Piar to live with his parents. Either from fear or simply because she was too young to adjust to married life, Mak immediately ran away, scurrying back to her parents. To her surprise, her mother shipped her right back. Later, Mak laughed about it. But she remembered, too, the heavy expectations of her new mother-in-law.
    Yiey Khmeng must have expected a lot of Mak , forgetting that she was so young. In Cambodian custom, the scalps of newborn babies were traditionally marked with a mashed root called paley , the saffron color of turmeric. This denoted the baby’s “soft spot,” and the root was thought to help