I was warned that Phnom Penh was a dangerous city, that it was lawless, and to be very careful. I was warned to be especially careful if traveling by scooter. Armed robbers on motorized bikes often prayed on foreigners on bikes. Sometimes the criminals are the police. These Canadians went on to say their friend had been mugged, and as an African American I definitely stood out as a tourist. Well if I was going to visit a dangerous city, I wanted to see the most terrible place of all.

Like Ho Chi Minh City, the majority of people in Phnom Penh traveled on two wheels with a motor. However with the danger warnings in mind, 15 km by car, I made my way from the city of the two mighty rivers (Mekong and Tonle Sap), past colonial and Asian architecture, down dusty roads to the "killing fields". It is eerily quiet as you walk on the ground toward a 17-story glass building that holds 8000 skulls and other bones of the 17,000 Cambodians killed by the Khmer Rouge. Yellow butterflies hover above rocks and dirt and what looked like pieces of bones that covered the mass graves. Skulls of all sizes from infant to adult are displayed, some with bullet holes or others partly crushed. Hours passed as I looked, thought, and walked around until I was stupefied and then reduced to tears as the magnitude of the terror rushed over me.

Phnom Penh has retained its wide colonial boulevards and buildings and a ride in a cyclo (3 wheeled taxi) can be pleasant as you pass by parks or take in the sights such as the Royal Palace, Silver Pagoda or one of the exciting markets. Of course you have to be able to stand the heat and not be faint hearted at the traffic or be overwhelmed by exhaust fumes. A relaxed attitude and comfortable clothes are important. When looking for refreshment I remembered my Uncle's advice and headed for the Foreign Correspondent's Club. It felt as if I were in the 1930's with it's ceiling fans and large open windows. The best view was of the boulevard and the river with pedestrians, cyclists and vendors providing an unending source of entertainment. Photographs lined the walls along with other memorabilia giving the FCC an incredible feeling of a haven in the midst of slight madness. Western food is served and anyone looking for an English speaker will be rewarded. I was the only black person there, but then I realized I hadn't seen another black person since I entered the country. But the people of Phnom Penh have seen too much to look twice at me, and for once it was nice to appear to "blend in" instead of stand out around my surroundings in SE Asia.

And what were my surroundings when considering Cambodia? I had to digest the horror of the killing fields and the wonder of Angkor Wat. The contrast of traditional Cambodian food with French bread sandwiches sold by street vendors. It's a land of landmines where tigers no longer roam in abundance, if at all, but Cambodia's capital is undeniably vigorous and resilient.