SHE KNEW POL POT - AND LIVED TO TELL THE TALE

2 disarmed landmines in Cambodia

Mali's legs are different. Each of her legs is a different color. Really. One is darker, one is lighter, and they will always be that way...

It took me a while to finally notice this. Mali owns the travel agency that I've used to arrange my trips around the Angkor Temples  and Siem Reap, so I'd been in her office many times. You’d think I would've noticed before that her legs were different colors, since she walks around her office in a skirt, barefoot. Like other Khmer’s, Mali's skin color is darker than most Asians. The exception is her left leg, with a lighter tone. That’s when I realized that this was not her real real leg. It’s a prosthetic.

Mali lost her leg to a landmine.

You’d think this would be a sensitive subject, but she had no problem telling me all about it. In fact, she was quite proud to show off her prosthetic leg to me. The injury had happened many years back, when she was 18. She was on her way out to work the farming fields. She was just walking along the side of the road, and that’s when it happened. She stepped on a mine, and the explosion threw her 30 feet. She lost her leg below the knee. That was years ago, when she used to live in Anlong Veng.

When Mali mentioned Anlong Veng, that perked my ears up even further. Further north, Anlong Veng was one of the last strongholds of the Khmer Rouge during the war years. "Was your family in the Khmer Rouge?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," she said. "You see that picture there? My father was commander in Khmer Rouge." Up above a cabinet, was an enlarged photo of her father. He's a big, imposing looking Khmer. Half of his left arm is missing, so I asked how he lost it.

"He lost it fighting, in 1970," she answered. In the photo her father wears a blue sash; the type government officials wear for special occasions. He's standing next to none other than Hun Sen, the current Prime Minister (dictator) of Cambodia. Hun Sen is also an ex-Khmer Rouge commander.

I quickly see her resemblance to her father, except that he lacks her smile. In the photo, he wears a very serious face, while Hun Sen smiles at his side. The picture was taken at a government function. Apparently, as part of the peace agreement in 1998, the Cambodian government allowed many Khmer Rouge commanders to keep control of their zones of control, as long as they laid down their arms to join the government.

Given his Khmer Rouge past, her father was probably a war criminal, and should be in jail for life. But like most former Khmer Rouge commanders, he remains untried, and unconvicted of his crimes. Instead, Mali’s father holds a senior position in Anlong Veng's provincial government. That's Cambodian politics.

She did laundry for the genocidal Pol Pot (photo: Wikipedia)

Given her father's Khmer Rouge history, I now had to ask her the million dollar question.

"Did you ever see Pol Pot?" I asked a bit nervously.

"Yes," she answered.

"Did you talk to him?"

"Yes, many times. I saw him almost every day. I brought him food." Not only that, she even did his laundry sometimes!

I show no reaction, but inside I’m absolutely stunned. I’ve just discovered that this sweet, lady travel agent was part of history. She had long term contact with one of the worst butchers the world had ever known. Not only that, she had lived to talk about it. It’s as though I’m speaking to Hitler’s maid.

There had been more than one assassination attempt on Pol Pot, including in 1976 when some KR cadres tried to poison his food. One of his guards died instead. Given that event, he must have had a great deal of trust for Mali and her father. Since he ordered the deaths of so many close to him, she’s very lucky to be alive today.

In remote northern Cambodia, Anlong Veng is a former Khmer Rouge stronghold

I continued my questioning. "Was he nice to you? Was he mean?" Since I was asking about a genocidal leader, her answers were not what I expected.

"He was a simple man," she said. "He was gentle." More like simply evil, I think. I suppose Pol Pot may showed a kinder side of himself to Mali, than he did to others, since she cooked for him. Her opinion of him surprises me.

“I know he was cruel,” she says, “but he could also be generous.” She says that he saved her family. She does have a point. Years before, when the Vietnamese Army was closing in on their position, they killed every Khmer Rouge they could find. Pol Pot was responsible for protecting 20,000 people, including her family, from their wrath. Fortunately, Mali never had to be a soldier. There were few female Khmer Rouge fighters, and her father had influence to keep her out of the ranks.

Not all of Mali’s family survived those years. Her mother and three sisters managed to survive, but not her younger brother. He died at the age of seven. "Fever and poison," are the reasons Mali gives for his death. It may have been malaria.

Mali eventually married a Khmer Rouge cadre. Not surprisingly, their marriage didn’t last. After having one daughter, they divorced. Mali has been through so much. She lost a leg. She lost a young brother. She lost her husband. For some years, she even lost her country, and lived in refugee camps.

I’m amazed at what a survivor Mali is. Perhaps her father was within Pol Pot’s trusted inner circle. Still, many of the people that ‘Brother Number One’ said he trusted, ended up dead in Cambodia's killing fields. 

Yet, I look at her now, and she’s strong. She’s capable. She walks on her artificial leg, without a limp, and without complaint. She runs a thriving travel business. She speaks Khmer, English and Thai that she learned as a young refugee. She’s a single mother, and takes good care of her daughter, ensuring that she receives the education that war denied her.

Her father's guilt is not being passed on to her anymore. The Khmer Rouge are gone, and she’s doing well now. After all she’s been through, and with all that she’s survived, she deserves the better life that she has now.

What a survivor.

HEALING CHILD VICTIMS OF CLUSTER BOMBS

Artwork of cluster bomb discharging 'bombies'

A cluster bomb has to be one of the most destructive weapons in world history. If you’ve ever seen video of a cluster bomb in action, you would agree. The damage they can do over a very wide area, is absolutely devastating. 

Dropped by air, most cluster bombs first appear to be a large, standard bomb. But this is deceptive, a cluster bomb’s outer shell is only a container, a ‘dispenser’. After release from an attacking aircraft, this metal container plummets toward earth, and splits apart, opening in mid-air to discharge it’s dangerous payload. 

Here in Vientiane, I’m looking up at a cluster bomb right now, frozen in time just after it has been divided in two. With the airborne dispenser broken apart, it’s lethal cargo has been dispersed into the air below. The contents don’t look very dangerous, they resemble a scattered rain of small metal baseballs. But these spheres aren’t toys, they are submunitions, and each one can contain enough explosive and shrapnel to kill or injure a roomful of people. The Laotians have their own name for these: ‘bombies’. 

This dispenser and dummy bombies hang by thin lines from the ceiling above me, and are no longer dangerous. They're part of a sobering display of anti-war artwork in the Vientiane headquarters of COPE. (Cooperative Orthotic & Prosthetic Enterprise) Obviously COPE is not your average humanitarian organization. Even the COPE sign outside is formed from old prosthetic limbs, molded together. 

The biggest cause of postwar related injuries in Laos has been, and continues to be, from cluster bombs. A caption for this unique artwork explains the hazard well:

BOMBIES

There are many types of cluster bomb. All work in similar ways scattering explosive ‘submunitions’ over a wide area. In the case of the large casings suspended here, one case would contain enough small ‘bombies’ to cover an area equivalent to three football fields. 

Each case contained up to 680 individual cluster bombs, each with a killing radius of 30 meters. The fins on the outside cause the bomb to spin to arm the device. With impact the explosion occurs. In test conditions 30% of this type of device did not explode. This means that out of the 260 million dropped there could have been 80 million unexploded cluster bombs left after the bombing ended. 

The 'COPE' sign is made of prosthetic limb parts

While I look at the hanging artwork, a Laotian boy walks up, and grabs one of the bombies suspended on its transparent line. Pretending it explodes, he feigns pain, and walks away. At least he’s aware that bombies are dangerous. Another boy approaches later, but he’s in a wheelchair tricycle. I wave hello to him, since I don’t speak Lao. He smiles, and waves back to me. This unfortunate boy is a patient here at COPE, and he’s wearing a prosthetic leg that he probably lost to a bombie. Some patients here have stepped on unexploded ordinance, (UXO) and lost both legs. Others picked up a live bombie and lost an arm, sometimes going blind. 



 

Balls for the game 'Petang' resemble bombies

There's been more than 13,000 casualties in Laos since the war ended from UXO and landmines, and about half were children. In the countryside wherepoverty is rife, children have few toys. When they happen upon bombies or other unexploded munitions, their curiosity may get the better of them, and results can be deadly. In 2008, a group of rural Laotian children went out looking for land crabs, and found a cluster bomblet instead. Four boys were killed, and five others injured. There are still about 300 civilian Laotian casualties every year from bombies and other UXO. 

Days before, I recall seeing men on the river front playing petang, a French game where balls are tossed back and forth, similar to horseshoes. Petang is popular in Laos, and unfortunately for children, the steel balls used in this game resemble bombies. How many children have been killed or injured in Laos, when they picked up a bombie, thinking it was only a petang ball?

With so many civilians still being killed or injured by cluster bombs not only in Laos, but in other post-war countries, public outcry arose against these devastating weapons. Like the earlier campaign to ban landmines, recent years saw a similar campaign to ban cluster bombs from the world’s armories. In 2008, the Convention on Cluster Munitions was signed by 107 countries, prohibiting the use, stockpiling, production and transfer of cluster munitions. Although a major step in ridding the world of these weapons, the world’s three largest weapons producers, the USA, Russia and China, did not sign the treaty. 

Here in Laos, the treaty came far too late. With millions of bombies still lying around the Laotian countryside, COPE will have no shortage of patients in the coming years. As I walk around the displays COPE’s Communications Advisor Tracie Williams joins me, telling me more of COPE’s noble work. “Our service is provided for free for those who can’t afford it,” she says. “We provide the prosthetic, rehab and other expenses.” 

Discarded patients' prosthetics hang from ceiling of the COPE center

I would expect this to be a very expensive process, but I’m pleasantly surprised at how cost effective their system is. Each below the knee prosthetic costs only about $100 per patient. Artificial limbs are made on site, just next door in their prosthetic and orthotic workshop. “They use International Red Cross Standards,” Tracie says. “They’re all handcrafted. Low cost.”

By not relying on expensive foreign doctors or manufacturers, their partnership with the Laotian government makes the operation more sustainable, “COPE is a local project, that works in conjunction with the Ministry of Health,” says Tracie. “Most staff are government staff.” Their well received operation now has five COPE clinics across Laos.

Among other UXO displays, is another somber artwork. Also hanging from the high ceiling are numerous prosthetic legs. These are old artificial limbs and some are homemade. A few are fashioned from wood. One is even made of bamboo, with the base made from half a coconut. It looks much like a peg leg from pirate

Homemade leg prosthetic at left, made from bamboo, and half a coconut!!

lore. All these limbs are from former patients. They discarded these prosthetics after receiving new ones here at COPE. 

Among the interactive displays, is a prosthetic leg you can try on. While I watch, a British visitor straps it on. I ask him if it’s comfortable. 

“Not really,” he replies. “It’s really awkward.”

The artificial leg is mostly plastic and metal, with a foot made of rubber. With a bent leg, I insert my knee, and tighten the velcro straps. I put weight on it, and the first sensation I get is immediate pain. Since it isn’t fitted for me, this is not unlike the pain that legless UXO survivors endure when they wore homemade prosthetics. Also here are training stairs, used for patient therapy. I slowly walk up the steps, using the hand rails. It’s definitely awkward. Reaching the top, I look at a mirror. I see I've one normal leg, and one artificial. This is how Laotian patients here see themselves every day. 

A few other patients are here as well. Using crutches, they don’t have a prosthetic yet. The total process of getting a proper prosthetic limb isn’t easy, it entails fitting, manufacture, therapy, and occasionally surgery. But the alternative for these unfortunate folks is to remain crippled and dependent for life. A prosthetic is all about regaining mobility, and many of these patients can return to work. In time, they feel empowered, and self-esteem improves. Some will even be able to walk through their villages without a limp.                                                                                        

“You can see the difference it makes in peoples lives,” Tracie says proudly. “They can go back (to their villages), and cultivate rice.”

Visitors to COPE can try on this prosthetic leg

Artwork of woman and child fleeing an attack