Aw Kohn

Kampuchea, the ancient word for Cambodia. From the first tuk tuk ride to the genocide museum I was immediately hit with the fact that I was halfway across the world. To then, walking alongside the S-21 prison cells still stained with blood from innocent Cambodians. As I stare into mass graves, at the killing fields and listen to haunting music by the Magic Tree, the music was masking the chainsaw-like noise of a diesel generator. It was beyond any nightmare I could dream of. It showed me that the scariest things happen in reality, as war changes people and brainwashes minds. To think that less than 41 years ago, they had battled brother against brother and now coexist.

                When we first arrived at the orphanage everyone is swarmed with their own group of excited kids. To be able to teach them, and stand in front of them, was like holding some kind of magical power. It was very enlightening to notice how much they love their education. One boy, named Somnang was the first one to greet me. He grabbed on to my hand, and pulled me with him. He looked at me with a smile that shone. Then he turned and said “What’s your name?” I responded, “Gaby.” He proceeded to then go “Gaby!” and laugh. These are the types of kids that find their way into my heart, and will surely never leave. Their persistent affection and love for you is heartwarming, and shows me how glad they are to be here and to truly live. At the orphanage in Phnom Penh it surprises me how many of these people are contagiously joyful, because of what they have and who they are. It surprises me because of what they have gone through and that they rise up from certain circumstances.

 Friday June 30^th, I had the greatest time of my life. Through working hard from picking up trash, then playing volleyball in the mud, and dancing to our hearts content. The feeling was incredible. I felt as if I was coming alive again, by connecting with these people. So for that, Aw Kohn. (Thank You.)