How does a 55 year old man end up living rough on a beach in Cambodia? And how come he has lost his lower right arm? And how come he speaks fluent English with an American accent? And how come he is smiling? And why did he ask the Lawrence clan for a few dollars on Friday morning?
Well we could have just handed over a few dollars and that would have been that. Instead there were far too many questions that I wanted answers to so I invited Mr Hong to eat at the excellent Dara's Beachside bar with us that evening at 7.00pm. He arrived at 7.15pm. I was concerned that he was not coming but he said that he would not miss out on a meal as he was hungry.
So what about answers to those questions? Hong had arrived in Sihanoukville
four days earlier from Phnom Penh after being told, effectively, to get out of town having previously been told to leave Siem Reap. He had finally been put on a bus to Sihanoukvile and told go to find his family as that was where he was originally from. Not an easy thing to do for a man who left, or rather escaped, Cambodia in 1975.
Aged 16 he found himself under the supervision and re-education of The Khmer Rouge. In the camp he met another man, Sok, who was so convinced his number was up that he expected to be killed the following day. The two of them escaped under the cover of darkness and spent the next 32 days travelling through jungle, going west until they found themselves inThailand. Hong spent five years in a Red Cross camp inThailand where he learned Thai and rudimentary English. Best of all, he was alive.
In 1980 he was given the opportunity to be resettled in Ohio, an opportunity that he jumped at. He worked for his sponsor in their shop for three years before moving to the west coast to work in computer assembly and electronics. He married and had three children. All was going well.
On a planned journey north to Canada he was involved in a car crash. Skidding on black- ice his car spun, hit another car and killed some of the occupants. The prosecution claimed he was under the influence of alcohol, Hong contested their claim, lost and was sentenced to 32 years to life in a jail in California. During the accident he sustained injuries so bad to his right arm below the elbow that it could to be saved.
That should have been the end of the story. Just another prisoner. But there
was more. Was it cost saving? Was it humanitarianism? Or was it simply to try to reduce the number of prisoners? Hong isn't sure why but he was offered the opportunity to be deported from America back to Cambodia. He took it. And so after three years in jail and 32 years in America, he found himself back in Phnom Penh. With US $100 given to him by the Cambodian Immigration Department, courtesy of the Americans, he was told to go home to his family.
Easier said than done. Hong's father had been a high-ranking official so he knew that all of his immediate family would have been killed. Hearing of a distant cousin that might be in the Siem Reap area he travelled there. He didn't find them but did find work as tour guide, putting his excellent English to good use. He was doing well. It all that came to an end when challenged by the police to produce his tour guide qualifications. Having none, other than his knowledge and language, he was told to go. After a similar turn of events happened in Phnom Penh he washed up on the beach in Sihanoukville.
We leave Sihanoukville in the morning but hope that the few little bits that we have done will help get him back on his own feet. He is keen to work and has plenty of business ideas so I took him to a local printers and helped get some business cards made, put some credit on his phone and bought a clip battery charger for him. I also introduced him to a local NGO that Lexi and I had spotted.
We all had dinner together again this evening and I certainly feel that we have done something useful. As we sat eating a beach masseur approached Hong and asked if he could teach her son some English. She told us that her eldest son is working away in Vietnam and so she doesn't see him but she wants her youngest to learn as much English as he can so that he can get a good job. At $1 dollar an hour Hong's planned rates are very reasonable and as he handed over his business card I felt a little feeling of hope.
Hong may have been a rogue? Who knows. But surely everyone deserves a chance, especially those who want more than anything else to help themselves and others. We left him this evening with hugs, the remains of tonight's excellent dinner and enough money, $7, to buy a gas stove so that he can cook noodles for himself.
Here's hoping for Mr Hong.