My driver, Mr Cho, had either problems with his eyesight or with his brakes, or he was suicidal and wanted a German blond haired ghost entering Nirvana together with him. He drove fearless. And on the back seat was his nephew, a young guy, who would later translate for me the encounters with the Cambodian monsters of the past.
Mr. So and his cheap and fearless uncle Cho made my day. It was like a 3-hour soap drama: Mr. So yelling at his uncle, telling him when to brake, when to overtake, when to honk. Considering their family ties, I think it was OK that he hit his uncle with a plastic bottle full with water on the head – while Uncle Cho was successfully dodging oncoming traffic.
After three hours of near death experiences, we arrived at the border town of Anlong Veng. One road, one big turnaround, a market and a romantic looking lake still called “Pol Pot & Ta Mok Lake”.
Local street sign showing directions to “Ta Mok Resort”. Here I wanted to visitthe former cook of Pol Pot: Yong Moeun – a widowed lady of class, beautifully aged, 67 years old. She lives in Anlong Veng, close to the Thai border, in the very north of Cambodia, where all the former Khmer Rouge people live.
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