When Broken Glass Floats_ Growing Up Under the Khmer Rouge - Chanrithy Him [122]
Though I am ahead of the class, I’ve been coming just to listen to the English words spoken by the teacher. I’ve learned to rise early to secure a spot by the window so I can see the blackboard, as others have also discovered this place. Mostly men, along with a few women, come crowding behind us. Looking over our shoulders, they copy notes from our notebooks, and those who are behind them copy from theirs. With each passing day, more people come, plugging up the whole alley. The famished crowd of Cambodian students spill out into the adjacent alley almost as far as a quarter of a mile, copying notes under the hot sun.
The presence of the other women makes me feel a little more at ease, less concerned about what Ra, Than, or bang Vantha might say to me if they found out that I’ve been standing among men. Together we bend the rules of our own culture. It’s not appropriate for a woman to be among men, Cambodian elders would say, and some of my relatives would likely echo this view. But I would defend myself and say, I’m here to educate myself. If people are concerned about the inappropriateness of the situation, then they can give me money and I’ll sit in class and be proper.
After weeks of corresponding with Uncle Seng in Portland, Oregon, sending him information about our birthdays and birthplaces, we have been notified that we must move to another camp, called Sakeo II. The people who get to go are Aunt Eng and her family, bang Vantha, Ra, Ry, Than, Map, me, and Savorng, who is listed as our sister. All except Uncle Aat, bang Vantha’s cousin. He came to the camp after our seven names had been sent to Uncle Seng for sponsorship. Still, bang Vantha wants Uncle Aat to go to America instead of Savorng, but Ra says we can’t leave Savorng here because she’s a child, only six or seven years old. Uncle Aat, on the other hand, is an adult, she reasons, and he can fend for himself. Later, like other families, he can apply to go to America or another country like France, Canada, or Australia. Uncle Aat looks sad, disappointed, but he seems to understand Ra’s dilemma, having to choose between him and Savorng, whom she and bang Vantha have welcomed into our family.
Uncle Aat has been nice to us; he has shared food with us and given me money to spend. He speaks politely to us, unlike bang Vantha, who acting aloof toward us ever since he began spending time around his so-called “cool friends.” Bang Vantha has changed. Now he is more belligerent, especially toward Than, particularly since Than began earning money from his smuggling. Bang Vantha often puts Than down or berates him for no reason. Than ignores him, but later he tells him to back off and to act like an adult, as an older brother in-law should act.
One night bang Vantha came home and told Ra in front of us that his friends had said that “friends are hard to find, but a wife is easy to get.” He agreed, he said. He smirked, proud of himself. He avoids walking beside Ra now that she’s pregnant. Ra keeps her thoughts to herself.
In the evening he provokes fights between Savorng and Map so he can watch. He makes them clutch the bamboo rods at the roof of the hut and tells Savorng to kick Map hard. Ra can’t seem to stop him, and we can’t say a thing because he is like a dictator ruling our family. In the end, Map and Savorng hurt each other and they both cry. Usually Map gets hurt the most since he can’t swing fast because of his protruding stomach, a lingering trace of mal-nourishment left from the Khmer Rouge time. Savorng ends up kicking him in the stomach. They continue fighting until bang Vantha thinks they’ve had a good fight. When they cry and bang Vantha smirks, I wish Ra had married Uncle Lee. She would have been better off with him, for he adores her and our family. But now it’s too late. She is pregnant and