"Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance.  And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance " 

     ~ Lee Ann Womack, I Hope You Dance

Today is a National holiday celebrating the anniversary of the 1991 Paris Peace Agreements.  These Agreements began the process for ending Cambodia's continuing violent conflict, as well as laying the groundwork for building a democratic Cambodia focused on human rights.  

So, with that auspicious event in mind, and having the day off, but needing to prepare for teaching 80 children tomorrow I headed for my coffee shop.  Once there, I talked to a young UN employee who told me about the current state of politics here and also about a big demonstration being held to protest the most recent election.  Evidently those in the majority (the CPP) rigged the election and the minority (CNRP) isn't taking it lying down. 

The idea of being a foreign photojournalist always appealed to me and here was my opportunity!  Problem was I didn’t know how to find the protesters.  I wandered around hoping to see crowds but feeling frustrated I stopped a Tuk Tuk driver.  Pretty soon five little men were talking away trying to figure out what the heck I was looking for.  I was undaunted.   I thought of my press acquaintances  back home as I got in the Tuk Tuk – hoping I was heading to the action.  I had Bob Kinzel, Peter Hirshfeld, Paul Heintz, Terry and Nancy riding with me in spirit.  There was a story to be told and you guys were my inspiration.  

I wasn’t disappointed.  Loud speakers echoed down a huge thoroughfare with hoards of people working their way through the masses.  It was more of a rally than an angry mob but I still felt like the photojournalist I always wanted to be.

The people in the crowd made every effort to have me “capture” their demonstration.

I knew right away I needn't be concerned at this rally.
Look at that smile!

As I was leaving the coffee shop my only real concern was
the possibility of needing a rest room.  I imagined the Khmer
port-o-potties would leave a lot to be desired.  Well this patch
of flowers apparently served as the"relief station" for all.
Glad I was able to avoid partaking...

I’m basing my understanding of this event on what was told to me over coffee.  I believe all these people support the CNRP party who are calling for a re-election.  The speeches stopped and then the music began.  These women were just precious.  After I filmed them they held onto my hand.  I have NO idea what they were saying but we bonded just the same. 

A group of men wanted me to take their picture clapping to the music.  The crowd grew and one man stepped into the middle and began to dance.  I had the choice to sit it out or dance.  I danced.  Two women, then four, then six all joined me.  A circle formed around us of more than 50 people, some filming us.  It was absolutely joyous.  I have no idea what we were all celebrating, and I don’t think they did either.  We danced for fun, we danced for joy, I guess we danced for the CNRP.  Mostly we danced as women finding our spirits joined in the moment.   This video is rather rough because, well, we were dancing it up and I was trying to capture it all.  I do not do it justice.  My spirit was soaring and I know these women felt the same.  Smiling, showing their betel stained, mottled teeth, they were glorious.

I felt totally elated as I worked my way through the crowds and as people saw my camera they asked me to take their picture.  What an absolutely amazing day!

The thought did occur to me that perhaps we were all celebrating some heinous political group and I could end up being the Jane Fonda of Phnom Penh but it was worth the risk.  (Hanoi Jane vs. Phnom Penh Patti).  And I thought it was going to be a ho-hum day.  A big shout out to my journalist colleagues – you were indeed with me in spirit although I would guess that proper journalists don’t dance with their stories;)  And you would also have figured out what the heck was going on.  So much for my journalism career.  Oh well – pretending was so much more fun! 

It may have been Pol Pot’s goal to ensure that the spirit of Cambodia was crushed by murdering the educated and artistic,  and even that wasn’t enough.  As one person explained it, killing the educated was like cutting the grass.  Grass grows back.  It was necessary to yank out the roots (their children) as well, so their kind could never grow back.  The roots may have been pulled but their spirit lives on. The people, while educationally and economically challenged, remain industrious, compassionate and optimistic.   Every one of the people in these photos has a war-torn story to share.  I just wish I spoke Khmer.  So much I could learn.

~ We should never take our vote for granted ~