Arn Chorn-Pond - The Commander and I

 

In 1975, when I was just 12 years old, the Khmer Rouge took over Cambodia. They won a war over a Cambodian government backed by America. In that moment, I was separated from my family. I was taken to a Buddhist temple, where they converted into a killing place. It was chaotic. And then, the Khmer Rouge now start shooting people. They systematically shoot people. Mostly they were educators, they were professors, they were doctors. And the reason was that they accused being pro-Americans. 

 

I was forced to live there with about 700 children. We were not prisoners, but we were forced to live there, work there and to die there. Half of us were starved to death. They killed three or four times a day and many children were forced to watch. The Khmer Rouge did not use their bullets anymore. They make a special axe like this and hit people in the back of the head. You can hear it like a coconut shell-- Like the axe hitting a coconut shell, you can hear it miles away. I can even hear right now. 

 

Sometimes they ask us, children, to come around when they were killing people. The Khmeru would watch us in the face, each of us face. If we show any emotion, it’s instant death. We were squeezing each other’s hand and tight, so that we won’t cry. For me, I learned how to shut myself off. I made myself numb to the situation. I shut my heart off completely. I literally did not smell the blood, and the mud and the shit anymore. 

 

If you care about something or somebody, the suffering would be unbearable, you will go insane. I died a million times over when I saw my sister starve slowly to death, my beautiful sister. I was helpless. I was powerless. I couldn’t do much. In the middle of this killing, the Khmer Rouge would find the children. They found the strongest children, about five or six of us to play revolutionary song for them in an instrument. So, I picked up the instrument and I learned very fast. They brought a master who was an old master with the white hair. He looked at me and us at the eyes and said, “You have to learn fast.” 

 

And surely after a week or two, those three boys, they didn’t learn the instruments fast enough. They were slow to learn. And with my master, they killed them. And lucky, they didn’t ask me to kill them. I learned very hard. I was so happy that I learned faster than anyone else, because my family owned an opera company. I have artist blood in me. They brought another master. And this time, Master Mike came and we become like father and son. There was a man, frowned face, a Khmer Rouge commander, he was always emotionless, his face. He’s not afraid to kill anybody or shoot anybody. I think he was assigned to watch us closely, and I noticed that. 

 

In 1970, two years, I survived the temples. I was among only the 60 children left out of the 700 children were killed and starved to death. And then, the Vietnamese invaded Cambodia in 1979. Four years after that the Khmer Rouge would take my instruments away now, they gave me guns so Master Mikke has to prepare me for full blown war. And in the battle the Khmer Rouge, thousands of kids were put into the front line and got drawn to fire first and to die first. 

 

Sometimes the Khmer Rouge would shoot us from behind, so we didn’t know which side were on. Because we were all children, and kids were shot left and right from me and they were hit in the stomach and the head. I was with the children there. We will carry guns. I remember guns that M16 were made they said, “This is good for you, because it’s less heavy and it’s made from America. And then, they gave me another gun that made in Russia. And another gun, the bigger gun I remember they said that make it in China, AK47. So, I carried them all. 

 

There was a time now only three of us left with that commander. Our tactic was to fight in guerrilla fight. So, we fight, we shoot and they die, we run. All of my friends died around me. I feel helpless again. I cannot do a thing to help them. Blood was all over me. I cannot go on anymore. I cannot kill anybody anymore. We were at a hammock between the trees and it was quiet, I remember. It was deep in the jungle. I wanted to die. I know that if I do this unthinkable thing. I want to challenge him. Also, this is my wish, my last wish if I go now and this is a defiance wish for me for that guy who I cannot take order from him anymore, that commander.

 

I want to tell him that I’m in charge now. I’m sick of him telling me to do and told me to kill. I remember Master Mike taught me in the temple, he didn’t only taught me the revolutionary songs that’s how I survived playing music for the Khmer Rouge leader and also play music for that commander. I knew he was watching us. I’m not sure what he was thinking. But then, Master Mike secretly taught me the wedding songs, the love song. And that would cause instant death for him. I decided to do this and I sang a song. Something took over me at night. 

 

The song is about a beautiful woman and she cried and you tell her why you cry. That’s the song. I hope he let me finish before he shoots me. [sings in foreign language] I closed my eyes, and it was silent. I looked at him-- He let me finish the song and he turned away. Then, all of a sudden, explosion and I blacked out. And the next day, Cambodian girls who were refugees came to look for firewood and they rescued me. They took me to the camp, where I met a man called-- He’s Americans. They call him Americans. I was adopted to America. In 1980, I came to America. 

 

In the 1990s, I went back to Cambodia and found a changed country. I found out that most of my-- I had about 35 immediate members of my family died. I found out that 90% of all the performers died, of all the artists died, including my family. And then, I heard about that commander was still in the place where we were separated 30 years ago. I found something few years ago called the Khmer Magic Music Bus, which I had music master and the young master on the bus. This is the first Khmer Magic music bus in my country. And now, it’s peaceful now. They were UN there and trying to bring peace to Cambodia. It’s peace now. 

 

I just took the bus. The bus is bringing music, just traditional reintroduce music to especially to remote Cambodian countryside where the children there never heard live music or touched any instrument in their lives. After the American bombing and the Khmer Rouge genocide, nothing exists. They burned everything to the ground. And there, 25 of us playing music, and then they were on stage and all of a sudden, I thought there were nobody going to come show up. We have 25 musicians with us, traditional musicians. And then, all of a sudden, just like this, there were 3,000 or 4,000 or 5,000 people showed up. These are ex-Khmer Rouge family, ex-Khmer Rouge soldier, but they just now wear different uniform.

 

The commander was there and I asked him to come on stage with me. He was reluctant, he said no. And then, he held a microphone. I asked him to hold the microphone and he was so shaken, holding the microphone and said, “Please say something about the music that brought us back together here.” Finally, he did say it. He takes a long time. I’ve never seen him so nervous and so shaken, talking on the microphone, like, I did. But then, he did it and they clapped and all his. Then we went off stage and he started talking about, “Wow, why you bring music back?” I told him, that’s how I settle our score, my score. We sit a little bit down and we start discussing about this and we also start dreaming together.

 

One day I think could it be possible that every child in Cambodia and every child in the world could carry musical instruments, not guns, and sing and dance like this with each other. He nodded. It’s not a foolish dream. My dream comes in closer now, and I wanted to live longer. For my first time, I learned how to cry, and learned to with him and learned how to wish. That’s what I’ve learned from America. I think if there is hope between me and him, I think there will be hope for Cambodia to heal ourselves, to reconcile and to bring peace. There’s a hope for the world that we must, we must desire for healing, for reconciliation and for peace. I assure you it’s not easy for me, not easy for him, but we must. Thank you.