Red, my host for the day, is a man who lost both legs from an anti-personnel device, a land mine. He was in the military when it happened in 1982. He is now 53 and works with Jesuit Refugee Services for amputees and disabled people. The Khmer Rouge left mine fields in vast numbers. Thirty five years on, a mere 101 people have lost limbs to undetected mines this year. In the 1980s that numbers was in the thousands each year. He asked if I were willing to visit the militarised zone at the Thai border, about 200 kilometers away, where he visits one of his districts and has 900 amputees on his lists.
Red wants me to meet three families. In each case it is the man who was injured by a land mine while serving in the military. One also lost an eye, one of the men lost both legs. The military have offered no compensation and no pension and they live with their families in poverty. The houses were amongst the worst I have seen, and almost empty spaces. Red's work is to supply toilets and wheelchairs and to help them, in whatever way he can, to develop a livelihood. One of the men we met works with Red and is paid by the NGO. Another has developed a poultry farm. The third man has lost his job and his wife is eight months pregnant. This man lost both legs and he is looking for any job which will use his hands. It was clear that he also suffers from depression but there is no help to be had for that.
Our next stop was to visit the home of former Khmer Rouge general, Tamok. It is a gruesome place, with meeting rooms and a series of cages used for prisoners. From the radio-equipped van here Tamok broadcast the propaganda to the nation. There was nothing smart or well-presented about it. A few people wandered around the site, while a group of giggling little girls were playing a game with a skipping rope nearby - oblivious of the awful history of the place.
From there we drove to the border. It is still a strongly militarised zone. The area was thick forest but it has been cleared as a result of the heavy fighting, the American bombing and subsequent deforestation by foreign companies having land deals. These companies have not brought jobs to the local people as the farming is largely mechanised and, where labour is needed, the Chinese, Vietnamese or Thai companies bring their own labour.
The border is stark, just a few barriers along a stretch of road, and the military. Just a couple of hundred yards away rises a new ten-storey casino, opulent and rather gaudy. It has a spacious car park, lots of security guards and is the only permanent structure in sight. Surrounding it are hundreds of little make-shift kiosks selling food, furniture, and just about anything that the people think they can sell to the casino visitors. The visitors come across the border from Thailand as gaming laws are stricter in Thailand and carry additional taxes.
We arrived back in time to visit the Jesuit Refugee Services and their Centre for Reflection. This is Red's work base and he is clearly very proud of it - and so he should be. Sister Denise Coughlan, an Australian Mercy nun, is in charge and has been since the place was founded in 1989. It is a wonderful campus of buildings, used by conferences and groups for every aspect of reconciliation, peace-building and interfaith understanding. There were several little 'shrines' were statues depict biblical scenes and invite thought and discussion. There was a scene of the Woman at the Well (St John's Gospel) and Sr Denise drew some water and the bucket was leaking. Thoughts invited on the biblical and practical importance of water and that the water of life is there to be shared by all.
The one I found most moving was the figure of Christ kneeling before an amputee who is saying "I have no foot for you to wash". Given what I have seen today, it took my breath away. Sr Denise showed me all around and it is clear that her work is slowing transforming relations between faiths and political factions. Today, a Malaysian general is running a workshop which includes peace workers from Myanmar, Cambodia and Vietnam. The little chapel was full of rich symbolism and the little altar, a highly-polished single piece of wood, was made by a Khmer Rouge soldier and presented as his way of apologising for his actions.
As always with the CAFOD trips, I felt that strange feeling as we turned back from the Thai border that I had stretched the elastic as far as it will go for this trip. In fact, the trip is not half over but I am on my way back in one sense. The Occupied Palestinian Territories will present very different scenes and challenges.
