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First They Killed My Father_ A Daughter of Cambodia Remembers - Loung Ung [127]

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letter. My name is M. and I was born on May 5th, 1977 in Cambodia. I don’t know where in Cambodia I was born but that’s the year that you, Bong srei left Ro Leap labor camp to be a child soldier, six to eight month after the Khmer Rouge took your father away. And according to your book, “First They Killed My Father”, that’s two years and some months since the Khmer Rouge took over Phnom Penh and forces our Khmer people out the city. And that’s the reason I am corresponding.

I don’t have much information about my family’s background but the story of your family is so so similar to mine. I am also Khmer/Chinese because my mother K. is half Chinese and my father was pure Khmer. Unlike you, bong, I’ve never got the chance to get to know my father and other brother whom my family and I lost in the hands of the Khmer Rouge. But with the love and grace of God, my mother survived with me and my older sister P. And was sponsored to Vermont in 1986 after a year in Thailand refugee camps and a couple of months in the Island of the Philippines. We then moved to Philadelphia after finding out that our relatives and family friends lived here.

All and all, bong srei, I like to say, that your book has taught me a lot of what my mother had to go through. And I think you and my mom the strongest Cambodian women there are. Reading the story of how Bong Keav makes me wonder of how my older brother pass away because I’ve never question my mother or sister about his death or my father’s death. Well bong, I first found you on the cover of the USA Today 2/3/00 “Haunted by Cambodia”. And I purchase your book from a web-site. I’ve passed it on to my friends and family and also read it to my little cousin. I enjoy the book and cried as I read about your trials and tribulation. If there is any way I could support the Landmine Free World, please inform me upon your responds. Us until then, may God continue to rain down His love and mercy upon you and your family. Aw Koon, Bong Srei

Respectfully,

M.

Pennsylvania


[E-mail forwarded to Loung Ung by Dith Pran. Pran, a subject of the film The Killing Fields, is a photojournalist and founder of the Dith Pran Holocaust Awareness Project.]


July 12, 2002


Hi Dith Pran,


I hope you still remember my name (S.P., a Cambodian from Holland).

Today the Dutch TV has shown and made reportage with Ms. Loung Ung story. We had tears and we did recall all our pains from the past of the horrible war and killing.

“‘Ms. Ung, she is marvelous to explained her heart and pains, our tears and our joy came out at the same time because there are people like you still who are fighting for the innocents and powerless Cambodians.’”

Ms. Ung, she is marvelous to explained her heart and pains, our tears and our joy came out at the same time because there are people like you still who are fighting for the innocents and powerless Cambodians.

I do know how to express my thanks to you, to Ms. Ung and your team.

My sincere regards.

S.P.

Holland


Dear Ms. Loung Ung,


I have just finished reading your incredible book “First They Killed my father” and am left both stunned and inspired. As a Cambodian-Canadian I was deeply moved by your will to survive amidst such horror. I was born in 1974 in Phnom Penh and placed in an orphanage called “Canada House” until we were evacuated to Sai Gon due to the approaching domination of the Khmer Rouge. Shortly after I was adopted by a Canadian family in Montreal, Quebec. Having no memories of Cambodia, it is somewhat difficult for me to envision what it was like under the Pol Pot Regime. It is through your imagination and depiction of the truth that I am finally able to comprehend the reality of the Cambodian people’s suffering.

I wept when you told of your dear father’s death. He looks so similar to my own father—the same moon face, gentle smile and caring eyes. I do not know if my biological parents survived and have tried to make peace with this unanswered question. Though I wish to deny that they were tortured, your book forces me to accept this possibility. What a profound feeling.

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