Momm Meth: National Teacher of A History of Democratic Kampuchea

Som Bunthorn

Translated by Farina So and Dacil Q. Keo



Momm Meth is a national teacher[1] of Democratic Kampuchea history. Momm Meth has been a teacher since 1969. Her husband and younger sister were killed without being charged of a crime. [After her husband’s death] Meth remained a widow and has five children. She narrates [her story] as tears fall.



I am 64 years old. I was born in Kok Trab village, Kok Trab commune, Kandal Stung district, Kandal province. I have three siblings. My father is Mom Men, a farmer. My mother is Oung Mi, a weaver who works at home. Although my parents earned little to support our daily living, they encouraged me to go to school. At the age of six, I entered Kok Kak Elementary School and I always received good grades every month. I was good at math. However, other girls around my age were not friendly to me when we met during festivals held at the pagoda. They always got up and avoided me when I tried to approach them because they thought that I was a student.[2] Despite this discriminatory behavior, I persevered in my studies until grade seven and passed my entry exam into Sangkum Reastr Niyum High School (currently known as Kandal Pedagogy School). Due to the long distance from my home village to school, I moved to live with my older sister, a nurse whose house was located south of Lanka Pagoda. Every morning, I had to ride a bicycle more than ten kilometers from Phnom Penh to the school in Takmao. Despite the exhaustion, I studied very hard until I became an excellent math student in my class.



In 1965, I passed the diploma certificate [exam] and moved to study at Sisowath High School in Phnom Penh.[3] In 1967, after I passed my Baccalaureate Exam I (middle education certificate part I), I did not choose Math as my major for two reasons. First, I was afraid of failing and having to study again. Furthermore, my parents would have had to spend money to buy additional study materials for me. Thus, I decided to choose science subjects such as chemistry, physics, biology, geography, history, morality, and a foreign language for my middle education certificate (part II) in 1968.



After I passed my middle education certificate exam [part II], I married my husband, a middle school teacher who was teaching in Kroch Chhmar High School,[4] Kroch Chhmar district, in Kampong Cham province. At that time because I also wanted to be a teacher, I applied for enrolment in pedagogy school. But I failed the entrance exam. Later, however, I passed an exam in another pedagogy school in Tonle Bati. After I finished my elementary teacher education course in 1969, I went to teach at Suong elementary school and my husband moved from Kroch Chhmar High School to Suong High School due to difficult long distance commute. We rented a house located near the elementary school. We did not teach regularly after Lon Nol overthrew Sihanouk because the situation in Suong was unstable. The new (Lon Nol) government ordered us to remove portraits of Norodom Sihanouk from every classroom including my classroom.



Soon after, there was a people’s propaganda [movement] to mobilize loyal and pro-Sihanouk forces. The forces were armed with machetes and axes and joined a [existing] violent demonstration. The demonstrators were marching to Kampong Cham provincial town demanding Sihanouk’s return to power. However, the demonstrators were dispersed and shot at by Lon Nol forces. Despite this crackdown, the group of demonstrators checked for Sihanouk’s portraits from house to house and school to school. The head of the school or house owner would be punished if the portrait was missing.



Later, the region Suong became intensely unstable. I stopped teaching due to the invasion of Viet Cong and Khmer Rouge soldiers in my village, and left my child with my mother in Kandal Stung district so that she could help take care of my child. As for my husband, he was assigned to guard the Suong district hall every night. In May 1970, Khmer Rouge and Viet Cong soldiers bombed Lon Nol’s ammunition warehouse and captured Tbaung Khhmum district hall located in Suong commune. Having witnessed this while I was pregnant with my second child, I fled to live with my landlord.



On the same night when Lon Nol soldiers lost the battle, I was told by a villager that my husband was killed in battle. I was very shocked after I received this news. Then I took a Mobilete motorcycle and drove to search for my husband at the district hall. Worrying about my safety, the landlord asked her son-in-law to escort me by riding behind my motorcycle. When I almost reached Suong Market, a youth dressed in black pajamas and with a krama[5] wrapped around his neck was calling me, “Teacher, teacher!” I stopped the motorcycle and told him that I was going to find my husband at the district hall. That youth told me, “Don’t go teacher, the man who is dead is not your husband. The villagers were mistaken.” So I continued riding to get some clothes from my rented house and went back to Chub.



While the son-in-law of the landlord was gathering his belongings in the house, he saw a Viet Cong soldier fixing his bicycle in front of the house. He politely questioned the Viet Cong, but was suddenly accused of being a spy and arrested. Later, he was released based on the testimonies of villagers and those who knew him. However, he was threatened and forced to bring his whole family back to live in the house because the Khmer Rouge had taken over Chub, Chihe and other areas east of the river.



My landlord and I moved to live in the house in Suong commune. Due to my husband’s absence of several days, I asked permission from Viet Cong soldiers to find my husband at a detention center located in Tuol Trea Elementary School, Tbaung Khhmum district. There at Tbaung Khhmum district, I saw many Lon Nol soldiers that had been detained, but I could not find my husband. I decided to look for him at the Kilo 62 detention center on the Chub plantation and at another detention in Maung Riev. Then, Viet Cong soldiers told me that the all teachers had been released. Two days later, my friend’s husband came to my rented house and told me that he met my husband in Daun Mao near Tonle Bit and that he even borrowed some of his money to buy food. I was glad to hear that he was doing fine and asked the villagers living opposite my house to help me to search for my husband. I had to cross Viet Cong front lines in various places along the mouth of the river until Daun Mao. But I still could not find him because he had been floating [along the river] using banana trunks (that he cut by himself) to Prek Daem Chan.



He was accused of being a Khmer Rouge soldier and was arrested (by Lon Nol soldiers). Then, a man who knew my husband went to inform my mother-in-law living in Veal Sbov, Kampong Siem district about this news. Soon after receiving the news, my brother-in-law, my mother-in-law, and a teacher management official in Kampong Cham province came to bail him out and took him back to Veal Sbov. I returned to my rented house that night, crossing the Peam Cheang rubber plantation. I heard a lot of bullets explode which shocked and terrified me.



I arrived in Suong in the morning and asked two of my husband’s friends to come to the Lon Nol area in Prey Chhor district because their wives lived in houses in Prey Totoeng. After they agreed, we prepared our clothes for departure the next morning. While I rode a motorcycle with one of them, the other, a deputy principal of Suong High School, took a motorcycle alone with some items packed at the rear [of the motorcycle]. We didn’t know the road very well, so we had to travel along the Peam Cheang rubber plantation.



At the Kampong Cham provincial town center, Viet Cong and Khmer Rouge soldiers set up their [military] base at Kampong Cham University at night (currently Kampong Cham Pedagogy School in the province and region) and attacked the Lon Nol Sup fort located north of Preah Sihanouk High School. However, Lon Nol soldiers retaliated. Terrified by this fighting, some teachers and students left their vehicles (bicycles and motorcycles) to hide at Preah Sihanouk High School. In the morning, Viet Cong and Khmer Rouge soldiers withdrew from the university while the Kampong Cham governor, In Tam, made a phone call to South Vietnamese forces for help. Then at noon, while the students were taking their bicycles and study materials back home, I saw a plane (directed by Yuon[6] soldiers) from afar bombarding the university. Consequently, many people died.



After witnessing this bombardment, we continued our journey to Chi He and met two men. They both guided us down the river. A while later, we encountered five Viet Cong soldiers equipped with T-O, pistols, guns, and three motorcycles who were safeguarding the area. We were fortunate because our companion could speak Vietnamese, so the soldiers asked us to accompany them until they crossed Tonle Touch at Ambeng Ches Pagoda. However, we were not allowed to drive our motorcycles too far from them. As I was 8 months pregnant, I was afraid that I would deliver my child along the way. Therefore, I decided to ask permission from the Viet Cong soldiers to look for a house in the village. I crossed the river and stay with a teacher’s wife for one night in Prey Totoeng and continued to look for my husband in Veal Sbov, Kampong Cham province. There was a check point in front of Phnom Srey-Bros which prohibited anyone whose native village was not located in Kampong Cham provincial town, from entering the province, so I decided to go back to Phnom Penh in order to present myself at the teacher management office and show that we were still alive. At that time, I met one of the teachers who had taught at Suong High School with my husband. Two days later, he went back to Kampong Cham province and informed my husband about me.



Ten days later, I met my husband while he was fleeing the village, which was at the front line of Lon Nol and Khmer Rouge soldiers in Phnom Penh. We stayed with my mother for two months in Phnom Penh until the situation calmed. Then, we returned to Kampong Cham to teach. I taught at Dei Doh Elementary School and my husband taught at a special high school which accommodated students who escaped from Kroch Chhmar, Stung Trang, Chi He, all of which were controlled by the Khmer Rouge. I taught there for one year and then moved to my husband’s high school. There, I taught for two years until 1973 when we moved to Phnom Penh because of the constant instability in Kampong Cham. I became a proctor at Neary High School (currently Norodom High School) and my husband was a teacher at Sisowath High School.



On April 17, 1975, I was staying at Sangkat 6, south of Lanka Pagoda, Phnom Penh with my husband, four children, parents, two older sisters, two younger sisters, one younger brother and grandmother when Khmer Rouge soldiers marched into Phnom Penh at around 9 a.m.. My family and I hung a white piece of cloth in front of our house as other city dwellers did. I heard bullets fired east of the Independence Monument for awhile and then the situation returned to normal. My neighbors and I were very happy because we thought that the war was over. I watched Khmer Rouge marching in front of my house and waved my hands in the air to congratulate them.



Unfortunately, at 11 a.m. bullets exploded in Tan Kimhourn’s (Chairman of National Assembly) house located not far from my house. And in front of my house, Khmer Rouge soldiers ordered us to leave at gun point at once. Panicked by the situation, my younger sisters and brother lifted my grandmother onto a motorcycle and drove along Norodom Boulevard to meet my uncle in Psar Daem Thkov. As for me, I gathered some clothes, pha-ok,[7] prahok,[8] salt, rice grains, that I prepared when the U.S. had abandoned their embassy in Phnom Penh. I placed these items in a small motor-cart and also put my four children in the cart. I left home traveling along Trasak Pha-Em, Boeng Keng Kang, and when we arrived at Ith Suong fort (now the Embassy of the Republic of Vietnam), a KR soldier holding a bomb demanded the motor-cart from my husband. When we handed the motor-cart over to him, he said, “I am just borrowing this for a while.” My husband and I continued our journey and at noon and arrived at my uncle’s house in Psar Daem Thkov. However, my older sister who was brining my grandmother had not arrived yet.



The next morning, my family and uncle’s family ended up leaving home without waiting for my grandmother because of the Khmer Rouge forced evacuation. My family passed a glass factory along the way and rested for several nights before reaching the Kandal-Takeo border. We saw corpses covered with tree leaves and smelled the stench of [Lon Nol] soldiers’ corpses. There were pregnant women who stopped along the way to deliver their baby. I had many family members [with me], but we had only one bicycle and one motor-cart to transport our belongings and small children. I tied a karma around my body and placed my baby, who was just born in 1974, in the krama to carry the child along. When we arrived at Phnom Chachak pagoda, we stayed there for a week because we wanted to return to our hometown in Ko Trab village. The temple’s Buddhist monks were defrocked by the Khmer Rouge.



Later, the Khmer Rouge allowed me to live in my village (Kandal Stung). Unfortunately, some people died from landmines upon their arrival because my village was one of the front lines in Phnom Penh where many mines were used. My family stayed temporarily in a small visitor’s waiting hall where the village committee had built a hut for us. Two weeks later, wooden huts made of materials from my old house were built and the Khmer Rouge gave each a hut to stay in. We were surprised to see many brand 79 bullets under our bed in the visitor’s hall when we were about to leave the place.



The hut that Angkar gave to us was built on a plot of land that all the husbands had died, leaving only wives and daughters. Even though people had died there, I was not frightened by this news. However, three to four days later my three-year old child, who often played in the verandah, suddenly could not move his body because his legs were in pain. Given this, I asked my village chief to let us move to settle in my native plot of land. He let us move, but he did not help us build a hut. We had to search for sangke trees[9], bamboo shots for columns, and palm leaves for our roof.



I invited a kru Khmer[10] to treat to my child who was terribly ill and about a month later, he stopped treating him saying that he could not help him anymore. One moth later, the child of a militia man had a similar illness as my child and he invited a kru Khmer to Tonle Bati to cure him. Upon seeing this, I also did the same thing. The kru Khmer used traditional methods, sdoh, phlum, and splashing water, to cure my child. My child got better gradually from week to week. Three months after curing my child, the kru Khmer disappeared.



In my village, my older sister and I were seamstresses and we sewed for Khmer Rouge cadres. My father wove cattle whip. During the rainy season, villagers were immersed in work in the rice paddies from morning till night. I encountered some difficulties because I had two children and needed to go to transplant the rice on time. When I was late, I had to finish transplanting the area of rice paddy that they assigned me and they warned others not to help me.



Actually, I did try my best to work, but the chief of my group was never satisfied with my results and blamed me everyday. As for rations, I received one can of rice per day and sometimes I was given some corn instead. As a peasant, after work my husband went into the forest to dig up yams, catch crabs, or pick edible leaves for our food.



In September 1975, my family was evacuated from our village along with my cousin’s family and other families. We were asked to wait for a truck in Siem Reap market located in Siem Reap commune, Kandal Stung district. When I arrived at the market, the truck was fully occupied with evacuees, so we had to wait along National Road 2 for four days. During our wait, I met one of my classmates (a student leader of the Khmer Literature group at a University) and he asked the district committee to let my family and my cousin’s family stay in our native village. He also took my younger cousin, Kuy Tro, to Phnom Penh with him. Later, he disappeared.



My family was able to return to our village. However, the village chief asked the villagers not to speak to my entire family including my cousin’s. The next day, my family was assigned to work on specific tasks with other new people in the village. The new people just looked at us and did not say anything.



When the transplanting season was over, I was assigned to dehusk the rice grains[11] from morning until 2 p.m. when I stopped to cook rice for lunch. After lunch, I continued working until 10 p.m. As for husband, he watered the vegetable garden and did not have time to rest at all. My children collected cattle excrement and chopped tuntreang khet[12] to make fertilizer. After yams were collected, the Khmer Rouge distributed yam rations to each family based on the number of family members, yet my family received no yam but only its vines. When the harvest season arrived, we worked very hard to collect the rice yield all day and night. We transported rice stalks until 10 p.m. and then returned home.



In mid-1976, we began communal eating in my village and the KR collected all of our utensils (plates, pots, and pans) and I was asked to transplant rice seedlings in a rice paddy located 4-5 kilometers away from my village and carried rice seedlings myself. At night, I had to make rice. My two children, one five years old and the other seven, were sent to live near the village chief’s house and they had to build dikes for the rice field without any rest. The men who were assigned to work far from the village never returned. My younger siblings, nieces, and nephews were drafted to the youth mobile unit to build dikes located 5-6 kilometers from the village.



In April 1977, I was pregnant with my fifth child and did not have sour soup to eat and I was also very hungry for chicken and meat, but I dared not steal Angkar’s food. One night I smelled porridge with fried garlic from the communal dining hall and I wanted to ask them for some. However, my husband begged me not to go because he was afraid of being killed. In May 1977, I heard that my younger sister was sent to Tonle Bati prison. She was accused of stealing someone’s property while she was asking them for palm leaves to weave bangki (baskets) for people.



Seven months later after transplanting the rice, the village chief and commune chief called for 50 healthy men who were able to carry soil and rakes (neangkoal) to help people in Tonle Bati transplant rice because they had not finished transplanting yet. My husband was on the list. I wanted to go with him too because they weren’t hopeful that they would return to the village. I committed to dying with my husband. However, my husband asked me not to come with him because I was pregnant and he explained to me that, “It is better if I die alone rather than both of us die.” He went on to say, “This kind of regime will not last long, one day this country will be liberated, so if you are still alive our children will have a good future.” I followed his words, but I cried in my house secretly. I asked him to put on two layers of pajamas and wrap a krama around his neck so that he would feel warm. I did not accompany him. When he left, all of us shed tears without letting others see. However, when the chief of my group learned that my eyes turned red from crying, she scolded me and simply said, “You should not have thought too much, your husband just went to help people in Tonle Bati transplant the rice.” However, one day, a child of the village chief told my child that my husband was sent to be killed. After I received this sad news, I was in great pain and immensely pitied my husband.



In February 1978 before I delivered my child, I received porridge only twice each day. I delivered my child in a hospital, but there was no midwife to help with my delivery. I had to make a fire to warm my body by myself. The next morning, I asked someone to send this news to my mother. Then she asked for permission from the commune chief to visit me but was refused. However, she didn’t listen and came to visit me and brought my two children along. I told her to go back because I was afraid that Angkar would punish her and asked her to leave my two children to take care of me. My children made a fire and washed the dirty baby cloth for my new born child. I could not feel full with only three ladles of rice, so I asked for more rice from a physician at the hospital. The physician gave me more rice. Five days later, I asked the physician to leave the hospital and walked about five kilometers back home. One week later, I had a big lesion on my waist. I decided to go to hospital again because it felt very painful and I did not have any medicine to treat it. However, the Khmer Rouge physician did not have any special means to treat my lesion. Rather, they applied chewed pongro (a type of herbal tree) leaves on it.



Three weeks later, the village chief asked me to take care of infants and weave 40 sets of palm leaves a day. This heavy task made me ill. Later I was assigned to remove 40 trees from one place and grow them in another place in a day. After two days of working, I had diarrhea and vomited. The village chief gave me some herbal tree [medicine] and let me rest for a while. After I recovered from my illness, I had to do light work such as weaving palm leaves and making palm mats as assigned by the village chief.



In April 1978, the commune chief forgave all people in public,[13] but we still needed to work and could not return home at noon. At night, Angkar mobilized all villagers to dig a big pond. One evening, when I was measuring the hectares of rice fields harvested to report back to a high-level Khmer Rouge cadre, I saw people running eastward on top of a canal. The commune chief and village chief had disappeared from the village. When I arrived home, my mother gathered all my children and all my siblings as well as my nieces and nephews in one place. My mother had brought one cooking pot to cook rice, but we did not leave the village yet.



At the end of January, 1979, the commune chief and village chief armed with machetes forcibly asked us to leave the village. My family traveled southeast and met many Khmer Rouge soldiers who were running from Takmao. The soldiers recruited some people, except my family because my father and daughter had a fever, with them. We stayed overnight in Veal Boeng. In the morning, we walked toward National Road 2 toward Phnom Penh.



I lived in Psar Daem Thkov High School and became an elementary school teacher. I received a small ration of rice from the state, the People’s Republic of Kampuchea, to feed my children. I worked very hard and continued my studies and obtained a high school teacher certification. Later on, I was promoted to a high school teacher inspector and a national teacher as in present day.



Having worked as a teacher for more than 40 years has made it even harder for me to forget my experiences during the Khmer Rouge regime. I shed tears every time I recall my story; that I struggled for my life. I have turned my anger and suffering from losing my husband and younger sister into strength and perseverance to accomplish my career and raise all of my five children until they are educated. I teach the younger generation to understand Khmer Rouge history, to not be vengeful, and to strive for solidarity among each other.