Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
asked Ran about what the prime minister had done for the local area, he reeled off the usu-
al list: schools, pagodas, roads, hospitals. Ran seemed like a true believer. He explained
that Hun Sen's immense wealth stemmed from all the good he did for the people. “He's
built a lot of pagodas and he respects the monks,” Ran said. “According to Buddhist be-
liefs, when you do something there are consequences. Hun Sen is richer because maybe
in the past he did good things. And the poor people maybe did bad.”
Hun Sen spoke for over an hour. His bodyguards killed time by posing for photos in
front of his helicopter, while other onlookers squatted beneath the sugar palms, snacking
on lotus seeds and bags of green sugar cane juice. We all listened as an amplified Hun Sen
started off with one of his favorite themes: his own life story. “I have some very pleasant
memories of Prey Veng,” he informed his audience. “I also stayed and lived in a pagoda
…” This thought progressed naturally to a discussion of his own modest achievements in
the field of pagoda-building. Hun Sen said that the CPP supported every one of Cambod-
ia's pagodas—all 4,676 of them. And then there were schools. In Prey Veng alone there
were 259 “Hun Sen schools.”
Warming to his theme, Hun Sen announced a donation of large wax candles for Bon
Tean Var Sa, an annual rainy season festival, traditionally patronized by the monarchy,
in which Buddhist monks kept candles burning continuously for three months. He then
discoursed on Thai politics and the recent developments on the Korean peninsula. His
speech finished in the usual way. After running through a list of requests from commu-
nity leaders for schools, pagodas, and other vital services, he triumphantly delivered his
catchphrase,
choun tam samnompor
, meaning “granted according to your request.”
Turning to the line of officials seated on the stage behind him, Hun Sen told the people
whom to thank for the generous donations. Interior Minister Sar Kheng, sitting stiffly,
had paid for the renovation of the pagoda, now a freshly painted riot of pinks and greens.
A high-ranking general would pay for a brick wall. A nearby school building was gen-
erously donated by the National Police Chief, Neth Savoeun, who sat sweating in a uni-
form covered with medals. At Hun Sen's “request,” the people of Prey Veng got all of
these things—a miraculous intercession that, like all the prime minister's speeches, was
broadcast out on state television. “I don't give 'air promises,'” Hun Sen said. “I give you
reality.”
The ceremony climaxed with the cutting of a ribbon and the distribution of more
gifts—books and pencils for students, wads of cash for scouts and teachers and health
workers. There was more fanfare. Pop songs blared and slogans extolled the “heroic Sam-
dech Techo era.” Cambodia's prime minister then walked through the crowd, his hands
pressed together in a
sompeah
of greeting, and returned to his helicopter, which waited in
the sun like a black insect, its rotors sagging like giant antennae. He gave one last wave
