This is a 3,520-word blog post written in memories of the 352 innocent people and more who were killed and hurt both physically and emotionally because of the PREVENTABLE, terrible stampede at the very last night of the once-a-year Water Festival on November 22, 2010 in the middle of the fancy Diamond Bridge that connects the Diamond Island to the mainland of Phnom Penh, Cambodia.
Below is a story drawn from the bitterest piece of history of my generation, starting off with a typically psyching dawn yet ending with the unexpectedly horrendous and sorrowful night and a bit of the following morning. This story aims to capture the material and emotional realities of an ordinary countryman’s family before, during and after this particular festival. It hopes to help the readers, especially those who are not familiar with the festival, get some realistic pictures and really feel the atmosphere and the sentiment, the excitement, the fright, the trauma and all other emotions comprised in it.
This is a fictional story, but while reading it, pay attention on the bold and non-italic phrases because they are not made up, and so are the events, places and all other proper nouns contained in it.
Any comments, suggestions, and questions are very welcomed and can be done at the end of the post. Please, if you can, suggest some ideas as to how we, as ordinary people, can help the victims who are living with loss, devastation, and trauma mostly in underdeveloped provinces of this poorly developing country.
A Family of Six: So Much Fun, Outstripping Mourn
A Typical Eve_Getting up with a smile in the early morning of the day before the one and only long waited Water Festival of the decade, a father of a family of six tapped his wife’s lap excitingly, telling her to wake his 14 and 12-year-old sons and 9 and 6-year-old daughters up. He then rushed to take a bath downstairs, slamming the bedroom’s squeaking door so fast hence so loudly that his four children had no problem readily getting up by themselves.
After a while of washing himself up thoroughly with water from a small open well inside his neighbor’s fence, he walked quickly half naked, with his red old Krormar (Khmer towel, scarf, turban, belt,…,whatever people want to use it for) wrapped around his bottom half, toward a pair of black cotton trousers and a bright blue, long-sleeved shirt hanging on a wooden wall by the a rusty nail next to a small mirror stick to a pole supporting his house. The father in his late-forties combed his hair nicely, shouting to his already prepared children and wife humorously, “The car is coming soon. Be quick or else, I’ll ditch you all for Om Tuk (the Water Festival) alone.” “We’re all ready. You yourself be quick. Don’t be too nice with your hair,” his wife in her mid-thirties shouted back with a somewhat high-pitched voice. Soon the crowded minivan came.
They now arrived at their relative’s house at the outskirt of, according to almost 80% of the population, a very amazingly developed city. A half-a-day chat with the city family made the excitement grow stronger. The two parents were told about the newly built playground at a park near the riverside and mostly thrillingly, the fanciest venue available to everyone, the country’s renounced Koh Pich (Diamond Island). The expectation for Om Tuk this year then got even higher, and the anticipation of seeing the new places was overwhelming.
The Never-Seen Playground_Each hour of the sleep had never been this long. Finally, the first afternoon of Om Tuk came. The compressed air of eagerness was released gradually as the six people got on a tuk tuk for an enjoyable ride through the blistering yet to them, trivial sunshine and heat toward the city downtown, at the area of the Central Market. While seeing that the historical market was being renovated, the family headed a little bit to the south about 200 meters away to check out, and only check out since things were so expensive to buy, the Sorya Shopping center which was the biggest mall of all to date—in Cambodia. After window shopping and escalator riding, the entire family walked with smiles on their faces to the Independent Monument and beyond, talking and pointing all the way.
Putting his youngest daughter on his muscled shoulder and hold the other daughter beside his chest, letting his wife hold the hands of the two sons, the father led the family through a slight crowd from the monument to the riverside where they would join a much more intense crowd to see the boat race of the year. As night was falling, the crowd grew from very crowded to super crowded. The family started moving with others toward the nearest anticipated place, the playground. Never seen one before, the entire family enjoyed the place so much that for them time moved so unbelievably quickly—so quickly that not long after playing there, their four children were so sleepy to stay awake for the rest of the night. The playground was really one of the very few highlights of the year, leaving no room for the rarely-seen firework to excite them as much anymore. However while the playground satisfied the kids, deep down inside, the parents knew for sure that it would definitely be the famous Diamond Island that could do the job for them. Usually went to bad very early at their hometown, the couples decided to take the sleepy children back to the house, holding back their enthusiasm for the island for tomorrow.
The Distracting Concert_Keeping the promise for themselves dearly, the family went to the riverside again on the second day earlier than the day before. Straight to the boat race watching arena, they found themselves in the fairly crowded mass only to see the boat from their hometown lost by a few seconds. Understanding that the race was for the sake of the ceremony not a death race, the parents did not let the disappointment ruin their day. Though insisted again and again by the kids, the parents still stayed at the place in order to be able to see Prorteep (boats with meaningfully decorative lights). The kids agreed, not knowing that their parents ultimately wanted to stay here because it was close to the island. Enjoying the Prorteep not as much, the family quickly headed toward the island even before the Prorteep show finished. Initially, they wanted to check out the entire small island, but their focuses were captured by the NOKIA concert there. “We’ll be back tomorrow. We’ll be back to check out everywhere here,” told the father to his wife and sleepy kids. The second day ended, though somewhat not satisfactorily but with safety.
THE THIRD DAY
The Shopping Spree_“Get the money. We’ll go shopping spree before going back home tomorrow,” he talked humbly yet excitingly to the person in charge of the ministry of finance of his family. The wife did just so. The family went to the riverside for the last time, targeting the stores and the island and nothing else. The father bought many three-dollar shirts, a pair of Ray Ban sunglasses, and Chinese-made screwdrivers for himself and a Styrofoam airplane and a glowing ball for the sons; the mom bought some vividly colored pajamas and nightgowns, two 1.5$ mattress sheets, countless hair clippers, some colorful rubber bands, balloons and a set of toy nursery equipment for herself and her daughters. They also got a lot of bonus and won quite a number of lucky draws, not to mention winning a plate, a few 20g packets of detergent and many Vietnamese-made jellies from the balloon popping at the island after checking out western-styled apartments and a trade fair there. Even though the Ray Ban glasses were knowingly not as authentic as those worn by American soldiers he saw when he was young, never before had the father have so much fun with his family, buy so many cheap stuffs for himself and his households, and win many prizes by throwing darts at balloons. Now it was time to cross the bridge back to the mainland in order to watch the final and biggest firework show before going back.
The Awaiting Bridge_The father was carrying most of the stuffs on his two shoulders hanging down to his laps, making his shadow not of a human one but of a bird with feathery wings. Despite this, he carried his youngest daughter on his left hand and held the hand of his youngest son with the other, leaving his wife carrying the rest of the stuff and his other son giving a back ride to his other daughter. Closer and closer to the 8.7m x 111m exit bridge named the Diamond Bridge, the parents’ appreciation of their country’s development skyrocketed as shown in their dilated pupils. Before their eyes was a beautifully decorated suspension bridge. Its every pole and handle was attached with lights of ever-changing colors and patterns. “This is so pretty!” shouted the wife, and the husband nodded in delight, having no clue what awaited them on the bridge.
The Moment_“The bridge is so pretty. No wonder why there is such a slow moving crowd on it,” the husband said to his wife while staring at the light. The mother started carrying the daughter and held the son’s hand closely. Bit by bit the family of six moved through the densest crowd ever, 9 people per square meter, toward the middle of the bridge expecting to experience the feeling of being on the most beautiful structure they had ever seen and to see the view of the awesome Diamond Island from the awesome Diamond Bridge. So tight was the space from one person to another that it was almost impossible for the father to see even the tip of the head of his son whose arms were around his wife’s waist next to his. The situation started to get more intense since there was no breeze, no ventilation, and more importantly, no chance of getting out of that crowd in any time soon. Slower than a sloth, the two parents, like everyone on the bridge, could hardly move with their two feet rubbing each other bit by bit. The sign of relief was nowhere to be found, and soon, everyone became virtually paralyzed.
When the circumstance presumably could not get any worse, the reality soon proved the opposite. The suspension bridge started to tilt from side to side with a trifling intensity; however, never experienced a swaying cement bridge before in their whole lives, a handful of people started to feel ultimately unsafe and scared, thinking that the bridge was on the verge of disintegration because of too many people were on it. The fright of death in no time burst into the most alarming sound that anyone stuck on any bridge could ever imagine, “The bridge is collapsing!!!”
This single shout, echoed with fear louder and louder, placed more than 7,000 people on that small bridge in a God-seeking state of panic. Everyone tried to rush out of the bridge yet somehow found themselves enclosed. Overwhelmed by the fear of death and fueled by the desire to survive, people started to lose their hope in getting through the crowd and suddenly felt a dire need to just crawl over it even though it meant killing in the process.
The father, while letting go of all the stuff, held on firmly to his two children, keeping his eyes locked on his wife and his other children. Immediately, he felt uncontrollably ever-stronger pushes.
SPLASH! SPLASH! SPLASH! Looking to the side, he saw people jumping off the bridge. Realizing that the wave of stampede was coming closer and closer and thinking that there might be chances of survival down there, the dad did the unthinkable without hesitation. He threw one of his sons over the bridge’s handle to the water. Then while having his youngest daughter trembling on his shoulder, he reached for his other son with one hand and threw him into the water too, knowing that the kids were somewhat good swimmers. Without looking back yet with tears filling his eyes, he took his youngest daughter from his shoulder, like he was taking off a helmet, and threw her in the water. By this time, his wife and his other daughter were out of sight and definitely under the crowd. With all his might, the father dug deep into the pile of people only to see his wife and his daughter trapped beneath others’ bodies and limps. He tried to pull the two out but couldn’t. Letting go of his wife regrettably for the moment, he grabbed his half-conscious daughter by her armpits with his two hands, pulled so hard, and finally got her out of the crowd. “Catch your sister. Catch your sister,” he screamed to the water like a dying beast as if he knew for sure that the two sons could hear. Then he threw this last child to the water, too.
At the very second that he let go of the daughter, he was run over by other people, during which he was hit many times, until he himself was buried in the bodies along with other hundreds of people, including his wife whom only God knew was alive or dead and where. In pain and without enough oxygen, the father lied on and under others. Understanding that the people on top of him were more or less dead, he struggled getting up by pushing the bodies away one by one again and again. Out of the crowd, at last, he rolled himself toward the handle exhaustedly on the pile of bodies, some of whom were mourning while others were in complete silence. Staying still there for a while, he was struck by the realization of his wife’s absence. He had a picture that his wife had been on the ground before the stampede. Suddenly he started counting the number of body bottom up, and his eyes leaked again seeing that the crowd he was on was as high as 8 stacks of lying body. Losing hope of ever finding his wife in that thick crowd with his ached and drained body, he crawled weeping over the handle and threw himself off the bridge before anything else could happen.
As he thought the worse was done, he one more time had to strive to find his children in the chaotic stream and to survive through the raining bodies. Almost in complete darkness, the dad who was in turmoil could not tell where his children were. He had to swim to each nearest floating being to find out while being super cautious about falling bodies. As he was swimming, splashes were everywhere. He saw some people who were struggling to get out of the water got killed by others falling on them even before they could get their noses to the surface. His blurry cautiousness made him an exception but an unlucky one. He was hit on his back by someone’s leg when he almost reached the bank. In so much pain, his fingertips touched the cement and he fainted lying on a side of the river, unable to continue seeking for his households.
Gradually opening his eye, he heard people shouting, “Move! Move! Move!” He found himself in a pick-up truck in front of a hospital. He was then carried by three civilian-dressed people to a ward. It was still hard to breath, but it was a much relief for him. He felt a needle stuck to his wrist. Too exhausted, he fainted again despite the itchy injection.
The Next Day_The father woke up in the morning in the middle of a crowd, a different one. People with white dresses were running back and forth. He raised his injected hand up and looked at the empty IV plastic box hanged on a cloth hanger to the wall by a hook. He called a nurse to take it off, but no one was available to answer his call. He was going to relax a little bit more, but out of the sudden, he snatched the IV away from his hand and walked out of the ward. He then saw arrays of corpse lying on the square at the center of the hospital. He rushed there to take a look and to ask for information about his family.
Right away he walked to a desk there to ask a young woman in charge. He was asked to tell her his wife’s and children’s names. Answering to his question about where they were, the woman said, “I don’t know. There are no such names in this hospital’s lists. Uncle, you have to go to other hospitals. Maybe they are being rescued there.” He thanked her. He reached to his back pocket, but his wallet was gone. He turned back to the woman and told her that he was one of the victims and that he wanted to find his family but lost his money already. The woman asked him for his name and checked for it in the list. She then told him to go to the hospital’s main office for help. On his way there, he got to meet a young man who was holding two big plastic bags containing many packages of rice and meat free of charge to anyone in need there. After listening to him, the man helped gave him a ride to another hospital, where the story would end with a reunion and the last goodbye.
Reunion & Final Goodbye_“Thank a lot. Thanks, nephew. May you be fine always,” he said to the young man who then smiled at him and told him he was very welcomed. He walked in a bit timidly through a big black gate of one of the biggest hospitals, Calmette, where most of the victims were. He saw a busy ward about 50 meters away. He walked quickly into it where he saw many injured adults lying there. At the left hand side there was a door leading to another ward where he could immediately spot a kid who meant the world to him, his second son. The father went straight to the kid. The closer he got, the clearer he saw his other three children miraculously alive and lying there on the floor flanking the sitting son. Filled with joy and a huge relief, the father held the kids crying happy tears loudly. A lot of people there who were passing by, the nurses and even other victims, could not help but cried too. He asked each of the children how they had been. The first son, the second son, and the first daughter all said something, but the youngest daughter did not say a word. “She hasn’t talked at all,” a son said. So much traumatized, the small girl became totally mute—at least for now. Realizing this, another wave of tears came, and this was a devastating one.
After a while, the father asked his children where their mother was. The sitting son mumbled, “Outside. Behind this room.” He opened his eyes so wide, yet his pupils contracted. Holding the sitting son’s hand, he said, “Dad’ll be back.” He walked with his son to the back door. Just at the door, the son pointed at a wide sheet. He walked fast toward it and took it away to see what was underneath. Pale and bruised, there lied a corpse, a pitiful corpse. She was his beloved wife.
Hugging her cold feet very tightly, the husband screamed out the biggest cry a man could have. Streams of tear flowed down his cheeks like never before. Myriads of memories started to pop up in his head. The latest ones were the fun, the laughter, the tease, and so much more, at the playground and the newly established Diamond Island. Expecting to have the best time of their lives together as a humble family, they had come to the glorious city to spend their little long-saved and bone-crackingly-earned money in the most non-sinful manner…Four children, one by one, had been great gifts spawned by pure, mature, and mutual love and respect which had been intact and unscratched for years already in both good and bad times. Now the wife had gone in the most inhumane manner, and one of the children could never say sorry to her mother or even call her, “Mom,” ever again. How could this worst incident happen to his family, and any other families for that matter?
Of the family of six, the stepped-on father and the four thrown-off-the-bridge children survived in trauma, sorrow and regret; the wife died unsatisfactorily along with other 351 innocent women, men, girls and boys.
How can they possibly rest in peace? The unexpectedness of the incidence and the dissatisfaction of all victims make it unsuitable for “RIP” to be accepted…Still, our condolences go to each and every single one of them.
