Sleeping in Another Person’s Home

 By Tararith Kho

During the 1970s, I moved from Thmar puok district to study in Battambang. My mother was very poor. She sent me to live with the monks at the Domrey Sor Temple. But because there were many children in that pagoda, my mother moved me again and sent me to live with her acquaintance.

Her acquaintance was a traditional Khmer physician. He was a very busy man. In his house, every person was occupied with many tasks. I, too, had no free time. In the early morning, I packed things and delivered them to Nat Market, then returned home to carry water from the river to refill our cistern.  During the rice planting season, I helped my mother’s acquaintance in the rice fields. His farm was very huge with many acres of land to plant rice. I was so busy helping them that I had no time to study myself. I was one of the bright students when I was back home. After I transferred to the new school in Battambang, I flunked my classes. Sometimes, I was too busy that I found no time to eat.

Rich people were very busy! At night, they went to bed very late, but woke up very early the next morning. They prioritize their works and set them in order. Each person in the household holds a duty or responsibility to fulfill daily. Each obeys the rule set by the head of the household. All the family servants, men and women, must work mindfully without being told what to do all the times. However, all of them, young and old, held a good team relationship with one another, like brothers and sisters. “Lok Mea” (Sir Uncle) was very intelligent in his way of leading and managing this household. His eyes were very powerful. They could shot deep in people’s mind or heart. No one is allowed to be lazy. All of us were very productive.

Besides studying, I changed diapers, bathed children, cooked meals, and carried water to refill the cistern at the side of the house, daily. I was assigned to serve people in the home, young and old. When I lived back at home in my village, I never had to perform these jobs. When I lived with my mother, I cut firewood, refill water supply daily, and worked in the rice fields—simple jobs for me. But my father did not want me to continue this way; he encouraged me to study. He wanted to see me at the top of my class or my grade level. When I was in first grade, I made him very proud of me. After I participated at Neth Yang High School in Battambang, I was far from home. I was just a poor boy without shoe and barely had clothes on my back. Sometimes, I had to ask one of the servants to lend me his shoes. I didn’t know if “Lok Mea” knew that I had no shoes. Maybe he did not because he was always occupied with his hard work. He never took a break for himself. At all times—when I woke up at 4:30AM, when I came back late from school, on the weekends, during the holidays, no matter what hour, I never found him resting.

“Lok Mea” made me even more afraid of him. He never talked with me, and my chest felt very tight. I never dared to eat rice inside his home. I tried to work hard to show “Lok Mea” my diligence, I did my chores every day such as refilling water in the cistern to the brim, pounding the harvested rice to remove the chaff. This work was not difficult at all for me. But, when I tried to make Khmer traditional medicine, my hands grew very callused, because Khmer medicine requires tree roots, and tree barks, and twigs to be crushed and pounded into powder. It could become easier when we became very skilled at doing this.

Their house was big. Their balcony, where they stored their shoes, was where I slept every night with their dogs. Lou always curled up with me, especially in the cool season. I shooed him away sometimes but he would not leave. Lou had more rights than I did, because he was the favorite dog of the owner. He came to live in this house before me. Lou was my close friend and he always barked when people passed by on the street.

During the first couple days I came to stay at ‘Lok Mea’s house, I wanted to be a dog. ‘Lok Mea’ pampered Lou. He gave him delicious rice, but didn’t seem to care much about other people in his house. Sometimes I talked to Lou. “Tell Lok Mea,” I said, “to love and pity me just as he does to you.”

That house had male and female servants. I worked hard as they all did. They all loved me, because I shared parts of the work. Aunt Nai always saved me some food especially Cambodian noodles and my favorite dessert.

Boremey, “Lok Mea’s” daughter, always teased me when she knew that I had failed my exams. She went to tell her father, about it, and I was later disciplined by “Lok Mea.” He always talked very firmly and loudly. He said, “At this house, everyone is working. But nobody fails exams as you do. Think again, and study harder.” This was true. Boremey, Moniroat, Komsan, and Jiwan, the sons and daughters of ‘Sir Uncle’, all worked as hard as much as we did. How come they were smarter? They could speak Thai as easily as Khmer, and they studied French without missing a day. I also studied hard and didn’t stop working, but had little rest. I always read my lessons. My scores later increased. Lok Mea told me to come and see him. He then told me “Boremey tells me that you are quick to learn. I have a gift for you.” Lok Mea gave me new clothes, new shoes, and money. That was the first time I received a gift from him. Lok Mea told me that my housework was not a concern to him. He went on telling me, “You must study hard, and work hard to overcome poverty. Someday, you can become a leader or a civil servant.” Lok Mea talked less but worked a lot more. His wife was also very busy. She told me, “Do not do women’s work. Let Boremey or a servant can do that.”

The family’s eyes started to watch me. I did not stop doing the house works. I did everything, because I lived with them and did not have to spend any money for room and board expense. Lok Mea was financially supporting me. I remembered that the people who lived in Battambang were good hearted.

In the year 1972, after two years since I left my home, my mother came to visit me. I came to meet her after I finished with the things to be taken to the market. I visited with her inside Lok Mea’s home, sitting and helping prepare Khmer medicine throughout the visit. She was their guest, but she was not free to rest. When she saw me, she said, “I hear that you are a bright student, and I am happy to hear that. Please continue on, my son.” I smiled at her. She continued, “Lok Mea was proud of you, and he told me that he always wanted to support you as much as you need. This makes me very happy. I am proud that you can live with somebody else and can make that person, like Lok Mea, trusts you.”

It was the first time, that evening, Lok Mea invited me to sit at the dinner table with him. “Kosorl, you are like a son in this house already. From this day forward, if you need something, tell me or my wife. We are happy to support people who study hard, as much as we can regardless of how much it would cost. Our Khmer society needs intelligent people like you to develop our country. Now I will support you, and someday you will help and support others.”

My mother thanked Lok Mea profusely. I was proud of myself, because I had won the support from Lok Mea. He then asked me, “After you are finished your education here, if you would like to study in Bangkok, you may because have relations over there. They will support you. But if you want to continue to study in Phnom Penh, I am not sure if I can support you or not.”

 I did not answer back to Lok Mea because I did not want to continue my study in Bangkok. My wish was to study in France. I wanted to be a doctor, because I thought that Khmer society needed more doctors. Lok Mea wanted me to give him my promise, but I told him, ‘I don’t want to say things that are empty, but I will be honest. Now that I have your support, and your wisdom to guide me, I truly believe I can accomplish this ambition.” Lok Mea was very happy, clapping his hands, and said to my mother, “You have a son with great integrity. I am very proud of him.”

After dinner, everyone was happy.  Lok Mea invited my mother to go upstairs with him for other discussion. My mother’s presence seemed now even more welcomed. I wondered what was going on that he wanted to discuss with her. Boremey had been acting very shy recently. She had not talked to me, but I had seen her watching me. All the servants in the house gossiped amongst themselves, saying I would be a good match for Boremey. Boremey also started spending much more time talking to the servants as well. Things had started to feel strange in the house. In my heart, I had never argued or demanded anything from the people there. It was not my home.

Reung Kolap Pailinylong, Pka Srapoun, Boremey bought these novels for me to read. She then asked me “Do these novels give you any ideas?” I told her that I was not first in my class in Khmer literature. I preferred to study mathematics, physics, and chemistry. She said, “Please read them. These stories were originated in Battambang.” She guided me. I could only thank her. Boremey was very beautiful, and very modest. Her eyes went deep. Her mouth was like a peridot stone. I was nervous to look at her.

In 1974, the country began to suffer political unrest. Lok Mea decided that he would go to live in Bangkok. He summoned me and informed me that he was leaving. “Next month, I will be in Bangkok for it will be very difficult to find peace in our own country. I want you, who I call my son, to go with me. Any subject that you would like to study, you may. In Thailand, you can find anything you want. I will be your guardian, and I will always support you—no matter what your needs would be.”

And… my heart started to pound my true feelings; “I love the Khmer land. I don’t want to leave my homeland, nor my mother in her old age.” He replied, “No one wants to leave his birthplace.  When we know that staying means death, our decision is clear. Leave or die? We are not politicians. We are Khmer, not Siem. But we must understand the most difficult situation our society has reached. If you leave, you may revisit your birthplace anytime. If you leave, there still may be things that you can do for this country. You will have a voice, weapons, rank. You can be a hero. But if you are unlucky, then staying here will mean death. You will be defeated. This is the truth from my heart: I want you to marry Boremey. Boremey loves you, too. I want you both to finish your bachelors’ degree, and then I want you two to marry.”

I was a stubborn man. I refused to go live in Bangkok with Lok Mea. He broke his secret to me that he wanted me to marry Boremey I told him at the time that I was very excited to know it. “I respect your family,” I said. “But I cannot marry Boremey because I worry it would be hard for me to help her find happiness. Lok Mea, I will go to Phnom Penh and continue my studies there. Please allow me to apologize and please be compassionate.”

 Lok  Mea’s face turned red. He had the last words. “You will be sorry, one day. I have no more chance to promote you, nor to help you, now. I didn’t want things to finish between us like this. I loved you as my son. But now, we will live in different places. I respect your decision. May you be comfortable. May you be rich one day.”

One month passed before we separated. Lok Mea continued to be kind to me, as he had been before. But Boremey never said a word to me. What had I done wrong? There was no answer. Boremey and I knew ourselves, and we knew what had happened.  All the servants decided to go to Bangkok with Lok Mea. He was not an easy man. When he left for Bangkok, there were many people who came to greet him. He did not sell his house. He said, “This house, I give to the Khmer.” I did not reply. I did not need his home to be my property. When Sir Uncle left, I went to Phnom Penh.

We left from Battambang the same day. But Lok Mea had had a successful life since. I intended to go to school, but I did not. I joined the army of the Lon Nol’s government. From there on, I abandoned my dream to be a doctor. I took a gun, and killed our enemies.

Lok Mea! I want to tell you that today I live without one of my legs. I have been a cripple since 1985. When I was in the cave fights at the Siem Border, we had no weapons. I lost it. Now my life is destitute. Nonetheless, I can endure. I have my own small home. I am a farmer in my birthplace. I am not a doctor. If I had followed you, and gone to live in Siem, I could have been one. I would not be a cripple liked I am now. But, Sir Uncle, I can survive here, in my small house, in my country, and I am Khmer.