When Broken Glass Floats: Growing Up Under the Khmer Rouge Paperback (34 page)

I’ve packed everything I own: a few clothes, notebooks, pens, the
Essential English Book I
, tattered family photos I’d hidden, a medical dictionary Sothea gave me, and a small packet of medicine for anyone who might get sick on the plane. In the packet I put my ID from Phase I in case we are questioned about the medicine. I tell Ry that I’ve packed everything, then I run down the stairs and yell out to her that I need to go to Phase I. I need to say good-bye to my friends.

On the concrete sidewalk, I trot. Tears burn at the back of my eyes when I think about leaving PRPC today. I hope they’re there. I don’t want to leave without saying good-bye. I’ve told everyone else at Phase I that I’m going to America. Streams of tears course down my cheeks.

“Chanrithy, Chanrithy,” a voice sounds behind me.

I turn. My eyes search for the voice. An American woman runs toward me.
Mary Bliss?
She smiles and quickens her stride, leaping over the flower bed near the sidewalk.

Smiling, I say, “Mary, I’m going to America today! I’ve been wanting to say good-bye to you.”

“That’s what I heard from the people at the clinic. That’s why I came to find you, so I could say good-bye.” She gazes at me, her arms embracing me.

She hands me her address in Washington, D.C., and tells me to write her so she can write me a letter of recommendation for a job in America. Looking into my teary eyes, she apologizes that she couldn’t say good-bye to me sooner because she was out of the country in Thailand. Knowing I’m pressed for time, she says her good-byes and wishes me good luck in my new life in America.

I wipe away my tears and hurry into the clinic. I go up to the front desk to find out if Dr. Tanedo will be at the clinic, but he’s only working at the hospital today. A lump forms in my throat. When the nurse at the desk hears I’m leaving, she calls Dr. Tanedo at the hospital, who says he will find me when I go to my mandatory physical exam before departure.

I smile, thank her, then rush out the door. I can’t help smiling radiantly. I’ve been teased about Dr. Tanedo, but I don’t care. I do have a crush on him, but he’s been kind to me.

When I arrive home, Dr. Tanedo is already there. “Hi, Dr. Tanedo. Thank you for coming to say good-bye to me,” I exclaim, smiling brightly yet embarrassed to have him look at me.

He returns the smile and tells me that he came as soon as he heard I was leaving the camp. He’s so kind to take the time to come. I feel awkward, embarrassed again. I lower my eyes, then realize I need to introduce Ry, Ra, and Than. He reaches out to shake their hands. He’s so formal, professional.

“Chanrithy, what are you going to do in America?” Dr. Tanedo asks gently.

“I’d like to go to school, maybe study medicine. Perhaps it’s too late for me to go back to school. I’m sixteen already. I haven’t gone to a formal school for seven years, since the fall of Cambodia.” I look down at the ground, pitying myself that my childhood passed by during the Khmer Rouge regime and in refugee camps. I feel so behind. I’m scared. America, the country I’ve been waiting to go to, now scares me.

“Chanrithy, you’re still young, only sixteen. You can go to school.…” Dr. Tanedo looks at me sympathetically. He searches for my lowered eyes, then says, “In America, you can study whatever you want.”

His gentle, hopeful voice gives me courage. I level my gaze and look at him. In my heart I want to say,
Really? I can study whatever I want? Then I’ll learn many things….

His eyes tell me I can. I feel at ease, comforted. He is the first person with whom I have shared my hopes and fears. Now I feel a weight has been lifted, and I’m grateful.

“Athy, people are going to the physical examination!” Ry points to the front yard. Families clutch their belongings and children, trotting toward a group of large tents where the physical examination will be.

I look at Dr. Tanedo. I don’t want to say good-bye. He offers to carry my duffel bag and reaches out to pick it up. We all hurry to the tents.

We arrive at a tent. Soon
bang
Vantha’s name is called. Anxiously,
bang
Vantha rushes into the tent, and Ra, with Syla in her hands, also steps in, her eyes signaling to us to follow. We go in. A Filipino woman orders
bang
Vantha to take his clothes off in front of us all. He rightly refuses. Then the woman orders us all out.

Walking out of the tent, I give this woman a stare, angry at her need to belittle us. Dr. Tanedo asks what happened, and when I explain, he suggests that we give him our documents.

From tent to tent Dr. Tanedo goes, talking to Filipino medical workers in his own language. All we have to do is stand near him. The workers glance at us, then turn their attention to Dr. Tanedo. Ry grins off and on, stealing glances at me, then at Dr. Tanedo. Finally words tumble out of her mouth.

“Not bad, Athy. You have a doctor friend to help us.” She grins again. When I smile, she giggles. Ra, too, smiles. Savorng and Map seem to understand, so they join in.
Bang
Vantha flashes a weak grin.

Soon Dr. Tanedo returns to me and says that we are all set. He leads us toward a line of buses along the paved road. On the sidewalk near the buses, clumps of families stand by their belongings, their faces red, eyes swollen. A young girl weeps by a sad-looking man. Glancing at her face, I too break down. Ry wipes her eyes.

Cradling sleeping Syla in her arms, Ra blinks her tears away. Most of the women cry, but the men just look sad. People bid their good-byes and remind each other not to forget to write.

The sounds of ragged sobbing resonate. Families’ names are being called. People get on the buses. Suddenly mine is called. I want to tell Dr. Tanedo that I’ll miss him. But when I look at him, all I can do is cry. People look at me, and I just cry. No words come out of my mouth. My tongue is stuck.

“Athy, hurry.” Ry waves at me by the entrance to the bus. Map and Savorng throw me a frowning glance. Embracing Syla in her arms, Ra, too, hurries me. She stands by
bang
Vantha as they crowd onto the steps of the bus. Than is already on the bus.

Overwhelmed by it all, I dash to the bus. When I’m on it, waiting to be seated behind Ry and Map, I realize I’ve forgotten to say good-bye to Dr. Tanedo one last time. I look out the window, and he stands there watching me. I want to get off, but people are coming up onto the bus.

“Athy, Athy!” a voice calls. Urgent taps shake the window near me. When I turn, through my tears I see my friend Sereya’s sobbing face. I move close to the window. Sereya’s face breaks into a smile. “I tried to run as fast as I could to get here before you were gone. Oh, Athy, I’m going to miss you.”

I scold her not to cry because she is only making me cry even more. But she doesn’t listen. She wails, and I cup my face in my hands.

“Chanrithy?” A gentle voice speaks. I turn toward the voice, and already Dr. Tanedo is sitting beside me.

“Oh, Dr. Tanedo!” I sigh, happy, yet sad at the same time.

“I’ll ride with you until we get close to the hospital, then I’ll get off there.”

“Thank you,” I say softly, my left hand wiping my eyes. I feel a gentle hand squeeze my right hand. I look at Dr. Tanedo, and he whispers to me not to cry. I want to say I can’t, but I can only shake my head.

“Athy, you’re leaving us. You’re leaving us. Nobody’s going to make us laugh anymore when you’re gone,” says Sereya, reminiscing. I choke, laughing, shaking my head.

Oblivious to everyone on the bus but Dr. Tanedo, I tell Sereya that amid this sadness, she must remind me of all the laughter I’ve brought to her and our friends. What a friend you are! I tease her. She giggles, amused at herself.

Feeling silly for laughing through my tears, I explain to Dr. Tanedo. He looks at me and gives me a sad smile, then his hand holds mine tightly. I’m comforted. But as the bus starts up, Sereya wails, tapping on the window again. “Good-bye, Athy. Good-bye,” she yells.

The bus takes off. Sereya trots along. The bus accelerates, Sereya wails. I cover my face, sobbing.

“Chanrithy. Chanrithy, don’t cry,” whispers Dr. Tanedo. His hand rubs mine again and again.

The bus stops. Dr. Tanedo gets up, gazing at me, and wishes me good-bye and good luck.

The night welcomes us at the airport. The city lights dimly shine in the dark sky. Clutching a bag of food in one hand and a duffel bag in another, I breathe in the cool breeze. I scurry along beside Map, Savorng, and Ry. Than is ahead of us.
Bang
Vantha is in front of him. Ra trudges behind him, hugging Syla to her chest. I’m with my family, yet my mind is still at the camp. I miss my friends, more than at any other time in my life.

But as the plane takes us up into the sky, I feel at ease. I’m riding to freedom, carried in the belly of a bird.
We’ve made it
, I think to myself. We are crossing the ocean, above the world that has enchained us. We’re alive.

I think about what awaits me in America. I imagine Uncle Seng looking at the picture of us we sent him, remembering the faces of his older brother’s remaining children, whom he has not seen for six years, since the day he stepped out of the gate of our home.

In my duffel bag, there are other pictures, tattered photographs I managed to keep safe during the Khmer Rouge time, moving them from the roof of one hut to the next. They travel with me to America, along with the indelible memories of Cambodia’s tragic years; of
Pa
and
Mak
; of Chea, Avy, and Vin, of twenty-eight members of my extended family and countless others who perished. With me, they are safely transported to America, a trip only made possible by Uncle Seng. He is the bridge leading me, Ra, Ry, Than, Map, Savorng, Syla, and
bang
Vantha to freedom. We are like the dust of history being blown away, and Uncle Seng is like the hand that blocks the wind. We are leaving behind Cambodia, ground under the wheel of the Khmer Rouge, and flying to America. There, we will face other challenges, other risks, in a new place in which we will have to redefine ourselves, a kind of reincarnation for us all.