The Vietnamese Uncle

Whenever he met us, he smiled and slightly lowered his head while he was taking off his hat as a sign of showing respect. He often did that when he greeted my parents. He was not one of my Cambodian uncles. He was a Vietnamese soldier who was stationed in our village during the Vietnamese occupation of Cambodia after the fall of the Khmer Rouge regime. He was probably in his late 20s or early 30s, tall, fair, and thin. He had an honest and sincere facial expression. I was about 8 or 9 years old back then. All of my friends called him Chu, a Vietnamese word for ‘uncle’. My village is ‘Potakouy Village’, Lolok Sar Commune, Sampov Meas district, Pursat province while he was stationed in a village next to my village divided by a railway. I remember him until now and tears often swelled up in my eyes when I am wondering about him.

The most memorable picture of him is how he waved at me from the rice field from an ox cart. Behind him was full of recently cultivated rice. His hut was built by mostly straw and some small wooden wall. The hut was facing the railway. He shared the little hut with one or two of his friends. I usually played along the not so busy railway that divided my village, which was on the north side, and his village, which was located on the south side. He was working in the rice field helping villagers transport their rice.  The way he waved looked as if he saw his own children returning from school. It was heartfelt for a child to receive such a sweet, welcoming smile and exciting wave.

We used to hear many stories of misbehaved Vietnamese soldiers, which made us hate them and scared of them. However, with his wide smile on his lips, the Chu made the opposite effect. Once in a while, he invited us for a feast. It was great fun!

One fine day, he came to our family home. I did not know what he told my parents, but I remember being told to dress up. I happily put on my best student uniform: a white shirt and a black or blue skirt. My parents might have told that Chu wanted to bring me to a photography shop to take us both a photo. I hopped on an old bicycle with him as the driver. On the way, I am sure he must have told me something but I didn’t remember. Or perhaps he told me in Vietnamese language which I don’t understand? I only remember I got a mixed feeling. I wasn’t sure whether it was an exciting time or an anxious one. And I might have known that he was about to leave our village. Forever. Or no, not exactly. Maybe I did not believe such a lifelong separation could happen for someone that I knew, especially this ‘Chu’.

I went along with him. The photography shop was about one kilometre from our house. At the shop, we were told to go inside the studio. It was a small, dark room with a background made of a wide cloth with a sailing boat, which looked like it was about to hit a mountain. I can’t tell whether it is colour or black and white. It must have been a cool artwork for that time. Although it was about ten years after the genocide, the war had not stopped yet. This memory had been buried for quite a while until one day I found this photo again hidden in one of the family albums.

This is the photo of him and me.

This is him whom I called Chu, the Vietnamese Chu!

In the photo, I am standing between his legs. We are both wearing white shirts. The difference is that my shirt fitted me very well with my skinny body, while his shirt was rather loose and a little bigger than his body. Neither of us are smiling, but I can see there is a little expression on his face. I looked a little worried. He is sitting on a small chair, putting his left hand on my waist and I put my left arm on his left foot. We are both almost expressionless as if we were facing a great uncertainty of the universe.

That is the last memory of him since 1989, which was the year most of the Vietnamese troops were ordered to leave Cambodia. I have no idea how the photo was left with me now. I didn’t remember one bit how did he leave. I didn’t remember if he came to say goodbye. I didn’t remember what did I had felt at that time. Though I do not have this memory at all, I have always wanted to believe that he came to our house while I was playing around the village. He might have handed the photograph to my parents and then said a proper goodbye. I don’t remember if I knew that he was going to leave. Forever.

I remembered I was standing along the National Road number 5 with thousands of students and villagers to see off the Vietnamese soldiers. After a decade stationed in Cambodia, those soldiers were told to withdraw. I also remembered they looked really happy and probably high in excitement for being able to return home and meet their family and loved ones. I looked for him everywhere but there was not a single trace of him. There were so many trucks full of cheerful soldiers. I kept thinking he might be in one of those trucks. I left one truck to the next hoping I could see him once more. There was no luck at all.

I remember I bought a pack of grilled bananas and handed it to an unknown soldier. He happily received them and gave me a beautiful smile as if I were a twenty-year-old charming Khmer woman who had just given him a love potion. That young Vietnamese soldier was not him. Unfortunately.

After that day, we still played in the rice field where he used to live and work. I do not remember if I missed him or not. Maybe not. Maybe yes. I only remember that life went on.

Now as a middle-aged woman, I look at the photo of a very thin girl standing between the legs of a man whose name she does not know. What she remembers is that he must be the ‘Chu’ who left her without a trace since 1989.

In 2017, I met Tran Luong, an independent performance and visual artist from Hanoi, Vietnam. He was invited to Siem Reap and be a mentor for CLA’s Living Arts Fellows. When Luong saw us, a group of artists, who were waiting for him, he waved his right hand just a little above his eyebrow, lowered his head a bit and smiled. It was a deja vu feeling and a wakeup call from a trace that I had intentionally buried three decades ago. After I introduced myself, I observed Luong and I started to wonder how old would he be now? Where does he live? Or if he remembers me like I remember him just now? Whether he is still alive?

I finally told Luong about my story at lunch before he flew back to Hanoi. We ordered Banh Xiao, a Khmer version of soft yellowish pancake with fresh vegetables and fish sauce. The calm expression on his face made me feel comfortable telling him the story. However, I was quite aware that I had to skip some parts and shorten it because I was almost in tears when I was telling the story. Luong was truly touched as if he had been told a bittersweet love story.

I still have hope that I might find him one day. Some days I think to myself, although I might not meet him again, the emotions and flood of memories which come and go are enough for me to go on with my everyday life. I end this story with a slight hope and a sweet memory. Maybe one day if I am lucky enough I might meet the ‘Chu’ again. Who knows?

One Country, One Chosen Story

I was challenged by a good friend SOUS Sinath to post my photos from my travel. Besides photos, I also added some stories related to the photos too! I chose to post photos from the neighboring country but I added a few from Salzbur too. Unfornately, I can’t find any photos of myself when I was in Vietnam because mostly I was the one who took the photos for others.

Here are some of the photos and stories from places that might interest you.

Paksong Plateou, Champa Sak province, Southern Laos (Photo: Tola

Picture #1 is from Laos. Champa Sak is the third province of Laos that I visited besides Luong Prabang and Vientiane. One story from Champak Sak is that I was amazed with myself for speaking broken Laos. I love the language! I practice speaking Laos from a Youtube channel. I could tell where I want to go, thank you, eat sticky rice, very delicious, beautiful and not beautiful…and a lot more. With four women friends, we went from one place to another on a tuk tuk, on a car, familiar ourselves with the language, eat great foods, meeting strangers, laugh out loud, drinking, singing all along the road…a great adventure. I would come again and go further especially Savannakhet province. The golden boy in my hand was hidden by his owner after I played with him. Perhaps he thought I might transmit any diseases to the vulnerable wild animal.

De’ Lapae Contemporary Art Space, Narathiwat Province, Down South Thailand (Don’t remember who took this photo!)

Photo #2, I chose the place/photo because the place is great! As part of the Living Arts Fellows Program, we was recommended to visit Pattani and Narathiwat province, down south Thailand. We did go there despites news of insurgency. We chose the arts over fear. Off we went and they didn’t disappoint a single bit. I love people’s kindness, culture, and arts. Food was so delicious. At a lunch time, I ate two bowls of beef soup and it took me two hours to digest. It was quite good. I told myself that I would rather sick of eating of two rather than one and regret later. The shop was a well known to locals. Despites the news about conflict, things went all well. People do their work as normal. I appreciate how artists are working hard to tell stories from their provinces through their arts.

3D Museum, at Prince of Songkla University Pattani Campus.
Writer as a star, me at Pramaputra Literary Festival, Assam, India. Photo right behind is a Thai writer.

Photo #3, After losing my purse with all my money in it, my trip to India came all with good memory. One among four Cambodian writers from Phnom Penh, I was so excited to see my photo exhibited along the main street of Guhawati, the city of Assam State of India. Being called ‘Ma’am frequently by our sweet volunteers was one of the highlights and also weird (at least to myself). I asked the volunteers to call me by my name but they politely refused and said ‘No, Ma’am, you are very senior to us. We can’t do that to you! We need to show you ‘respect’. I thought ‘Oh well, let it be!’

This is Cafe am Kai in Salzburg, Austrai in 2015

Photo #4, When a friend and I were exploring Salzburg town, we arrived at this charming Cafe. We came in after taking about 50 photos outside. The coffee was so good. A warm coffee in cold weather. There were many cool slogans inside. I remember one of the slogans says “One shouldn’t take life so seriously. No one gets out alive anyway.” I love this Cafe so much that I made a promise with myself that I will write a novel about it. After 5 years, the novel has been revised twice. One scene is about the lead couple met for the first time in Europe. I hope the novel will be finished soon. I need a lot of inspirations to finalise the novel.

The Crush Collection, my first anthology is on a table in front of Cafe am Kai!
A very proud first time author carriying her book every where she goes.

បុប្ផាណា ផ្កាមិនរុះរោយ

តើសៀវភៅ “បុប្ផាណា ផ្កាមិនរុះរោយ” ដែលជាស្នាដៃនិពន្ធរបស់​អ្នកនាង ជាស្នាដៃ​ផ្នែកអ្វី? បើពេលប៉ុន្មានក្នុងការនិពន្ធ? ហើយអ្វីជាបុព្វហេតុដែលបណ្ដាលឱ្យអ្នកនាងនិពន្ធសៀវភៅនេះឡើង?

“បុប្ផាណា ផ្កាមិនរុះរោយ” ជាសៀវភៅប្រលោមលោកច្នៃប្រឌិតផ្អែកលើប្រវត្តិសាស្រ្តពិត ស្តីពីជីវិតរបស់ស្រ្តីកម្ពុជាម្នាក់ឈ្មោះ ហួត បុប្ផាណា ហៅមុំ និងប្រវត្តិនៃរបត់ប្រវត្តិសាស្រ្តកម្ពុជាស្តីពីសម័យសង្គមរាស្រ្តនិយម សម័យសាធារណរដ្ឋខ្មែរ (លន់ នល់) និងរបបកម្ពុជាប្រជាធិបតេយ្យ (ខ្មែរក្រហម)។ គ្រោងការសរសេររឿងនេះត្រូវចំណាយពេលបីឆ្នាំ ពោលគឺចាប់តាំងពីដើមឆ្នាំ២០១៧ រហូតដល់ចុងឆ្នាំ ២០១៩ ទើបចប់សព្វគ្រប់ និងរួចរាល់សម្រាប់បោះពុម្ព។ ការនិពន្ធសៀវភៅនេះ គឺធ្វើឡើងនៅចុងសប្តាហ៍ ថ្ងៃសម្រាកបុណ្យទានជាដើម និងត្រូវការការអាន ស្រាវជ្រាវ សម្ភាស មើលភាពយន្តឯកសារ ប្រឹក្សាយោបល់ជាមួយអ្នកស្គាល់នាង បុប្ផាណាជាដើម ដើម្បីអ្នកនិពន្ធមានរូបភាពជាក់ស្តែងជាទុនសម្រាប់ការសរសេរ។   គម្រោងនេះជាគម្រោងមួយរបស់សារមន្ទីរគុកទួលស្លែង ដែលគេបានស្នើឱ្យខ្ញុំសរសេរ​។ ដោយការយល់ឃើញថា បុប្ផាណាជាឈ្មោះនារីម្នាក់ ដែលខ្ញុំតែងតែកោតសរសើរ អាណិត និងដក់ក្នុងចិត្តជាយូរមកហើយ ទើបខ្ញុំមិនរួញរាក្នុងការទទួលយកការងារនេះ។ ខ្ញុំគិតថា ខ្ញុំជាស្រ្តីកម្ពុជាម្នាក់ បុប្ផាណាក៏ជាស្រ្តីកម្ពុជាម្នាក់ ដូចនេះខ្ញុំត្រូវសរសេរពីគាត់ ដើម្បីឱ្យជនជាតិកម្ពុជាដទៃទៀតបានស្គាល់ និងចងចាំនូវវីរភាព ភក្តីភាព និងភស្តុតាងនានានៃប្រវត្តិសាស្រ្តកម្ពុជា ដែលជាទូទៅមិនត្រូវបានគេសរសេរលំអិត។

រូបថត៖ វ៉ាន់ ចាន់ណារ៉ុង/មជ្ឈមណ្ឌលបុប្ផាណា

តើអ្វីជាគុណតម្លៃនៃសៀវភៅនេះ?

គុណតម្លៃនៃសៀវភៅប្រលោមលោកបែបប្រវត្តិសាស្រ្ត «បុប្ផាណា៖ ផ្កាមិនរុះរោយ» គឺទីមួយ គុណតម្លៃប្រវត្តិសាស្រ្ត ពោលគឺក្រៅពីពាក្យពេចន៍បែបប្រលោមលោក ដែលអ្នកនិពន្ធបានតាក់តែង ប្រលោមលោកនេះបានបង្កប់នូវខ្លឹមសារប្រវត្តិសាស្រ្ត ដែលជនជាតិកម្ពុជាគួរយល់ដឹង។ ទីពីរគឺសិល្បៈនៃការសរសេរដែលផ្តោតសំខាន់លើសំឡេងរបស់តួអង្គបុប្ផាណា និងការព្យាយាមបង្ហាញពីវីរភាព ភាពអង់អាច និងក្លាហានរបស់នាងចំពោះភាពជាមនុស្សជាតិ ភក្តីភាព និងស្នេហារបស់នាង។ ទីបីគឺការខិតខំប្រឹងប្រែងរបស់អ្នកកាច់ទំព័រ និងរចនាក្របមុខសៀវភៅ ដែលបង្កប់ដោយអត្ថន័យជ្រាលជ្រៅ ជាច្រើនលើកច្រើនសារ ដើម្បីធានាបាននូវសិល្បៈក្របមុខសៀវភៅ ដែលថ្មី និងប្រកបដោយសិល្បៈពិតៗ។ 

ក្នុងនាមជាស្រ្តីកម្ពុជាម្នាក់ ខ្ញុំមានមោទនភាពលើសៀវភៅនេះ ព្រោះបុប្ផាណាជានិមិត្តរូបនៃការជំនះ ភាពតស៊ូ និងភាពអង់អាចរបស់ស្រ្តីកម្ពុជា។ ដូចនេះ វាជាកិត្តិយសណាស់ ដែលខ្ញុំបានចំណាយពេល ស្រាវជ្រាវ និងសរសេរពីរឿងរ៉ាវរបស់គាត់ ដើម្បីជនជាតិកម្ពុជាបានស្គាល់ និងចាំគាត់ក្នុងចិត្តជារៀង រហូត។ ប្រលោមលោកនេះ ជាប្រលោកលោកលើកដំបូងរបស់ខ្ញុំ។ កន្លងមកខ្ញុំសរសេរ និងបោះពុម្ព តែរឿងខ្លីប៉ុណ្ណោះ។ ការសរសេរពីវីរភាពស្រ្តីមានសភាពតិចតួច នៅឡើយ ដូចនេះ ខ្ញុំមានមោទន ភាពដែលបានចូលរួមចំណែកក្នុងការនិពន្ធពីស្រ្តីកម្ពុជាដ៏សមញ្ញ ប៉ុន្តែគួរឱ្យចងចាំម្នាក់នេះ។ 

តើសៀវភៅ “បុប្ផាណា ផ្កាមិនរុះរោយ” ជាស្នាដៃនិពន្ធចុងក្រោយនាពេលបច្ចុប្បន្ន​របស់​អ្នកនាងឬយ៉ាងណា? ហើយបន្ទាប់ពីនេះ តើអ្នកនាងមានគម្រោងបញ្ចេញស្នាដៃថ្មីទៀតដែរឬទេ? បើមាន!​ តើមានចំណងជើងអ្វី? និងគ្រោងចេញផ្សាយជាផ្លូវការនៅខែណាដែរ?

សៀវភៅប្រលោមលោកច្នៃប្រឌិតផ្អែកលើប្រវត្តិសាស្រ្តពិត “បុប្ផាណា ផ្កាមិនរុះរោយ” ជាសៀវភៅប្រលោមលោកលើកទីមួយរបស់ខ្ញុំ ដែលបានបោះពុម្ពនៅចុងឆ្នាំ២០១៩។ សម្រាប់ឆ្នាំ២០២០នេះ ខ្ញុំគ្រោងបញ្ចប់ និងបោះពុម្ពស្នាដៃប្រលោមលោកមួយចំណងជើងទៀត ដែលមានចំណងជើងថា «សៀវភៅកំណត់ហេតុ» ដែលជាសៀវភៅប្រលោមលោកប្រឌិត ស្តីពីនារីម្នាក់ ដែលជំនះ និងបន្តការសិក្សានៅប្រទេសអូទ្រីស ទោះមានបញ្ហាគ្រួសារ ជំនះលើគំនាបប្រពៃណីសង្គមប្រវត្តិអតីតកាលជូរចត់ ស្មុគស្មាញយ៉ាងណាក៏ដោយ។ ខ្ញុំគ្រោងនឹងចេញឱ្យទាន់ពិព័រណ៍សៀវភៅកម្ពុជាលើកទី៩នេះ។

សូមអ្នកនាង បង្ហាញពីតួនាទីការងារទាំងអស់​របស់អ្នកនាងនាពេលបច្ចុប្បន្នេះ តើមានមុខងារតួនាទីការងារអ្វីខ្លះ?

ខ្ញុំជាសហស្ថាបនិកគ្រឹះស្ថានបោះពុម្ពផ្សាយកម្ពុមេរា ដែលខ្ញុំជាអ្នកគ្រប់គ្រងទូទៅ និងក៏ជាអ្នកកែសម្រួលអក្ខរាវិរុទ្ធ អ្នកប្រឹក្សាយោបល់លើគម្រោងបោះពុម្ពសៀវភៅនានា។ ក្រៅពីនេះ ខ្ញុំជាសហស្ថាបនិកក្រុមស្លាបប៉ាកកាខ្មែរ បង្កើតកម្មវិធីអក្សរសិល្ប៍នានាដូចជាកម្មវិធីអានកំណាព្យ កម្មវិធីជួបជុំអ្នកនិពន្ធ និងមហោស្រពអក្សរសិល្ប៍ជាដើម។ ក្រៅពីការងារជាអ្នកនិពន្ធ ខ្ញុំធ្វើការពេញម៉ោងជាប្រធានកម្មវិធីចំណេះដឹង បណ្តាញ និងគោលនយោបាយនៅអង្គការសិល្បៈខ្មែរអមតៈ ដែលជាអង្គការសិល្បៈធំមួយនៅកម្ពុជា មានបេសកកម្មអភិវឌ្ឍ និងអភិរក្សសិល្បៈ និងវប្បធម៌នៅកម្ពុជា។

ជាចុងបញ្ចប់ តើអ្នកនាងមានអ្វីចង់​និយាយ​ទៅអ្នក​និពន្ធ​ ក៏ដូចជា​បងប្អូនខ្មែរទូទៅដែរឬទេ?

សម្រាប់អ្នកនិពន្ធ ខ្ញុំគិតថា យើងគួរនាំគ្នាពង្រឹងការយល់ដឹង និងហ្វឹកហាត់សរសេរបន្ថែមទៀត។ ការរៀនសូត្រពីគ្នាទៅវិញទៅមក ជារឿងល្អគួរឱ្យលើកទឹកចិត្ត។ សម្រាប់អ្នកអាន ខ្ញុំសូមសម្តែងការសប្បាយចិត្ត ដែលអ្នកអាននៅកម្ពុជាមានការរីកចម្រើន និងកើតសរសើរដល់ពួកគេ ដែលបានគាំទ្រអ្នកនិពន្ធនៅកម្ពុជាតាមរយៈការទិញសៀវភៅពីអ្នកនិពន្ធ។

រូបថត៖ Creator

ប្រសិនបើប្រិយមិត្តចង់ទិញសៀវភៅនេះយកទៅអាន តើពួកគាត់អាចរកទិញបានដោយវិធីណា? និងនៅតាមកន្លែងណាខ្លះ?

សម្រាប់អ្នកនៅឆ្ងាយ និងមិនមានពេលមកទិញសៀវភៅនេះ អ្នកអានអាចទូរស័ព្ទទៅលេខ 015 79 10 72/ 098 98 80 03 ខាង Creator Book ដែលទទួលសិទ្ធិលក់ផ្តាច់មុខនឹងរៀបចំផ្ញើជូន ដោយអ្នកអានត្រូវចេញថ្លៃផ្ញើបន្ថែមពីលើតម្លៃសៀវភៅ។ សម្រាប់អ្នកនៅភ្នំពេញ អ្នកអានអាចរកសៀវភៅ បុប្ផាណា ផ្កាមិនរុះរោយនៅបណ្ណា ល័យបញ្ញវន្ត, មជ្ឈមណ្ឌលសោតទសន៍បុប្ផាណា, និងហាងលក់សៀវភៅស្រលាញ់សៀវភៅ។

វង្ស សុជាតា មិត្តជិតស្និទ្ធ និងខ្ញុំ (រូបថត៖ វ៉ាន់ ចាន់ណារ៉ុង/មជ្ឈមណ្ឌលបុប្ផាណា