Sleepless in Cambodia
Gosh, between Araella waking up at ungodly hours and gun shots going off at 4:30 in the morning it’s impossible to get a decent night’s rest around here! Tara and I woke up to rapid gunfire just outside our house this morning follow by an eery lull. We crept around like Jame’s Bond sidekicks trying to figure out if it was inside our yard or not till Huun (our guard) emerged from his cot and checked things out. He was pretty nonchalant and as I came out of the house he was busily opening the gate till I said I’d rather just look over the wall.
Through the dim morning light no less than 7 old saggy men with bath towels wrapped around their otherwise naked bodies stood with guns in a wide circle around a limp, moaning form sprawled in the dirty street. Dawn, a drizzly rain, wet streets and foggy yellow street lights created an eery mood like something from a cheap Asian action flick; probably entitled “Return of the Lords of the Khmer Rouge”. All it lacked was subtitles and Japanese dubbing. They’d winged the thief in the head and he had been beaten, and there was no mercy among them as they stood like atrophied vestiges of a once powerful and brutal regime.
The comical appearance of the old men in bath towels was completely lost in the the gruesome scene of a shot and beaten body in the street; an adrenaline rush that was starting to fade; and the ominous morning air… it was tough to separate emotions from the spiritual climate but it felt as if a black oppression of hate and power had descended into the street. It was foul. I retreated back into the house…
Araella slept through it all (and the thunderstorm preceding it which rocked the house) and bounded out of bed cheerful as ever at 6am.
The story eventually came round that the General across the street had some expensive equipment stolen in a portion of his house that was under construction. Assuming the thief would be back they set up a trap and waited for him. Why they were all wearing towels at a stakeout I don’t know.
I’m not sure I’m comforted by the thought of ex-communists with guns (who contributed to the torture and genocide in Cambodia) living across the street from me. However, it does afford a certain level of safety since alerting my neighbors to the presence of any would-be thieves will no doubt be coupled by instant and severe response. However, as a Christian, I wonder if indirectly causing a burglar to be beaten and possibly killed would be unChrist-like and I should just let them have whatever trinkets they want from my house and save their life… You know, turning the other cheek and all that. I’m sure it would be a thankless gesture. Fortunately with fearless Huun outside my front door I won’t have to make that choice.
