After the Khmer Rouge, led by Pol Pot, ousted the democratic Lon Nol's government and took complete control of Cambodia on April 17th, 1975, the jubilation lasted for less than 12 hours. That afternoon, 3:00 P.M., Khmer Rouge started to empty the city of Phnom Penh and the city went into chaos. The Khmer Rouge announced, "Everyone must leave the city immediately for three days so that we can clean up the city. Then you would be allowed to return to your home." Once all the people who had no political ties with the communist Khmer Rouge arrived at the countryside, the farms, they turned everyone into farmers and peasants. Then the killing began. 

Daravann is a courageous young Cambodian boy who survived the genocide at age 11 during the Khmer Rouge regime from April 17, 1975 to January 7, 1979. His story can be read in his memoir, Salt Seeker, and I had the pleasure of meeting with him in 2022, painting his scars, and hearing more on his story, excerpts below.

The worst scar was on the bottom of [my] feet. You can still faintly see it. During the war, I was forced to plant and fertilize rice in the paddies. The bottom of one of my feet got infected in three or four areas and, in the dirty water and fertilizer, the infection got [worse]. It wouldn't heal because it had no time to dry, and, of course, there's no medicine at all. 

At camps, we got to rest after dinner, probably around 7[pm] to 6[am]. That's when I learned from the farmers there, the Khmer Rouge, the bad people, that certain plants have juice [that] could help heal my feet. But you have to use it right away because the juice will dry up. So when I saw it, I had to pick it up, try to protect it with banana leaves so the moisture would [not] go out. It's a white color; I think it's called Tiger's Milk, but that is a literal translation. And by some miracle, they healed, [but] it was so slow, so agonizing. You don't have boots or sandals to walk in; I never had any sandals for those four years. You walk on the dry ground, the grass and twigs poke into it.

You just hope that the body will take care of everything. The body has such an amazing power to heal, but the natural process [takes] a long time. You don't have time until late in the evening when they let you off to clean it, and sometimes at night you have to work too. 

So that's the worst scar. Of course, you'll have some [others], there was always something cutting me. I fell off a mount, the rat bite is still there. I sprained my back, I sprained my foot, I sprained my neck because of all the heavy dirt we have to carry to build the waterways, the dam. Sometimes when you want to impress the leader, you let them pile more dirt in the basket. That's to tell them, "I'm with you, I'm doing the best for the government." I think I felt that if I don't get along with them, then my life would be even more miserable. I [knew] what they wanted to see and what they wanted to hear. Most of the time, it's physical work. They want to make sure that you're all in, right?  Sometimes you can lift something up wrong and then "snap!" The back does snap a couple of times, but no broken bones. The worst wound is still all around the bottom of my feet. 

It's hell on earth. Starvation is so hard because you have a craving for rice, but there's no rice. For a while even fish disappeared. And [there’s no] salt! Everything is so bland. But I knew I could take care of myself. I knew how to “play” the [Khmer Rougue] in a way. When the cooks asked me to do or deliver something, I did it. They said, "Daravann is so reliable," so then I [get] a little bit of salt [they] have access to. They couldn't give you much, maybe three or four scoops of salt. Then I saved it, half for me and half for home. I got some brown palm sugar sometimes, ate half of it or a quarter of it, and took it home. It's just the way I was. I valued my family, and other people suffered more than me. And I could handle it in a way that they gave me a lot of freedom, favors, things like the pair of shorts that I got. At that time I probably had a couple of sets of clothes all ripped to pieces. 

Surviving it was difficult, but I had to keep on doing it, I had to keep on fighting it. Oh my God, I fought so hard. Fought so hard just to see the next day. But [I was] never hopeless in my mind. I believed that if I kept on fighting, something was going to change. I’m not religious, but one thing I remember from Buddhism that we heard people say was that - "nothing is permanent." Something is going to change, for the worse or change for the better, but I [was] a very positive young guy. I don't think negatively. I don't think, "What if I die." I would say, "What if I live?" So I lived. But knowing that nothing is permanent. I'm still using that. Because if it's smooth sailing right now, it could change, it could drop or keep on going steady. And you have to be ready for it.

The physical pain was not as bad as the mental pain because you don't know who's surviving.  I have a lot of siblings, and the Khmer Rouge took them away, [the distance of] from Center City to Plymouth Meeting.I didn't know if my dad or my mom or my niece was still alive. And then my three brothers were in another camp. They killed my sister, Manny. The stress level was so intense it was so hard to sleep because you would think, "Are they still alive?" And there's no way to find out, right? [Sometimes] you had the opportunity to come home to visit Mom or Dad and ask "Are they alive?" But until I had a chance to go home and ask, I would worry about people. 

At the end of the war, all three of my brothers came back. But Tavit almost died, he scared the heck out of me when I saw him in the hut. White, pale, his eyes already sunken in the socket, like a skeleton just covered in skin. My mom nursed him back to health with herbal medicine.

My Mom died as soon as I got [to the United States]. Cancer. She survived all that, and saved my dad, my brother, her grandchildren, another brother, my little nephew. She saved all those people. My conclusion was that she used all her power to keep those four or five people alive. And then she had to go at such a young age, too. She was the best, she was a survivor, but [also] a true healer, a life saver. Every time I came home to see them, you would see that power. She and I are so connected. She picked me to do things all the time. And I resented that because why not the other [siblings]? I resented her when she asked me to run errands before the war, I complained at first. But I would comply or abide by her, do whatever she wanted me to do, [because] I like that connection, it saved all those people. So powerful, right?

In 2019, I went back there, and said, “This is where I survived it." Parts [of the compound] are still there. They destroyed everything after the war. The giant, beautiful trees were gone, cut down, the ones the cranes [used] as a home.  I stood there and watched the mountains that my grandparents moved my parents towards. And then to the side [there was] another mountain that they put me to work, the one that they ordered me to find bamboo shoots. The sugar palms are still there. The hut that they gave to us is still there. There's a gateway that I walked to at that compound, that village, then in the palm tree[s], there's a gap that's almost like a door to walk to another pond. So fascinating, you know? I just wanted to see it. And the cafeteria was in another corner over there. My camp was about a forty minute walk away. 

It brought the memory [back], but it didn't depress me. It kind of re-energized my body. Like, "Hell yeah, I survived you!" This is the base, this is the heart of my strength right here. Since 1982, 40 years, that attitude is still the same, that nothing can break me. Because if I get hurt or stressed or a little depressed about something, all I have to do is reflect back. My memory says, "OK, I did that. I got over it. I overcame that." It's good to visit. I got something back: my strength. With this experience, I'm going to be okay. No matter what, I'm going to be okay.

[In the United States,] I got the degree [for] a job as a counselor and I'm helping students get what they want. I always tell my students you have to set some goals if they want to accomplish something, to be who they want to become. I always told them my goal in the United States was just to learn English. 

And they say, "Why? Everyone who comes to the United States, they want to be [a] CEO, and you just want to learn English?" And I say, "Yeah!" And they say "Why Mr. Yi?" And I say, "I just want to tell my story, Ok?" That's it! Nobody is going to be like Jeff Bezos or Bill Gates. You have to be who you are. You have to do what you like to do and bring the feeling of joyfulness, of having something. Telling stories isn't going to make you rich or create a lot of wealth.  But I say, "I'm telling the story just because it was a horrible story, but here I am."  

Here I am. It's still in me. The only thing that I have forgotten is the timeline. But those stories, all those images are still in me, not even faded.. I can still smell it. But do the images affect me negatively? No! [I think], "Do you have any terror in you that you're there again, and I'm so depressed now?" No! I beat that and as a result, I have a new life and a new adventure. And that's how I want to live. I want to make them excited about life in general. To lift people up when they're down.  I want people to use what they have, utilize everything in their capability, their power and [move] forward with a positive attitude, with new hope. 

What do [I] hope that people get from the stories [I] tell? I hope that people use that power and that energy to create something that brings them joy, like "Wow, I'm going to be ok." Because no amount of money can buy that inner strength. I'm not afraid of anything, you know? 

I'll give an example.  I have [a group of friends] that likes to sing karaoke, drink beer, cognac.  Every time they get together, I could see that I bring joy to them. As soon as I open that curtain to go in there, they say, "Wow! Brother, you're here!" They respect me because they think that I'm humble. They care because I'm just an ordinary person, not because [I have] a master's degree [or] my position [in society.]

And I like that. I like that being me, when I go somewhere, I bring that kind of joy to people. And that's such a wonderful thing.  I never acted more important than anybody else. I understood my dad when he told me, "Son, knowledge is power," [but] it's not just knowledge that is power, it's personality, or how to treat people with respect. That's why they treat me with respect and love. I'll go to every table and say hi, and they like that because I think everybody's so important. Everybody finds joy when they feel that they connect with somebody. And I'm so grateful that I have that ability. 

So to sum it all up, all my life in Cambodia, 16, 17 years, and 40 years here in the United States and being able to achieve this feeling of happiness. It's a great feeling in my life. I'm so fearless, you know? So fearless about everything because I'm very confident in what I do every day. I'm very confident that I can make people happy. Just with words. Or sometimes, I don't have to say anything at all, I'll just be there. 

I have a lot of plans. I'm going to continue to work and do the best I can, lift people's spirits and souls, and guide them in any way that I can. I will do the work to help those who need a little bit. I want to continue my charity work in Cambodia, and hopefully, that's when I stop working full time. Maybe I can go there and do some volunteer work. I do want to teach English. If I built a home in Cambodia, then I'm going to build a little school for people to come to learn English. And it's free. So that's what I want to do. I might have to work another eight years. So if that's the case I will have to build it five years from now, [then] every year I [will] go to Cambodia for one [to] three months with my wife. You can do a lot in three months, charity work. That would bring a lot of joy too.

[My advice?] See your future as clear as your past. I could see the little house up on the hill. I could see the little place with a blackboard, some benches. I could see flowers all around it, some fruit trees, the land that I have. I could see the gravel leading to the house and where I'm going to put the handbooks for my guests, where we're going to sit to drink or to have food, under a mango tree. I could see the pond with a little gazebo next to it and a little walkway and a hammock. You could go out there on the water to drink coffee, the fish swimming around. I could see kids coming to learn, that they were going to come by and say "hi" and just hang out. I can see that. I have this image in my head. I could see that the students that come to study. My student would come in with a pot of rice, their own special dish, something we share after the lesson. I could see my vegetable garden, string beans, watercress, and herbs. [I want a] simple, humble blending with the community over there. All the images are clear, it's fresh in my head. And when I build it, it's going to be like that. That's exciting. Before I even act, before I would even start digging to build, I could see where everything is. 

That's how I try to get my students to create in their mind because the journey is more exciting when you have a clear vision of what you want to do. I'll do my part to help, to solve, to create new things, to push them to do a lot of critical thinking. I'd dig so deep into my heart, into my mind. 

And that's the plan. It's going to happen. Usually, when I put something on the table it’s going to turn into something. And I already have the land, so part of the dream is already done. So now, build and then teach and be a part of a community, be a part of the happy world, because there are so many sad people out there and they can't get out of it unless you find them and try to help them.

The advice is this: you cannot change the past. The past scarred you. The mark created a scar, created very bad memories. In order to come out of it, you have to look forward to the future. What [can the] future bring?  Being forced to [to do things], you didn't have control of that before. You have your control now, with help, so you have the power now. You have a new power to create new things. 

You cannot delete your bad memories, either. You create a little file [in your head], but in order to move forward, you have to say, "I am no longer in that position." You've got to believe that, right? And with the help from the people around you, you gain more power to overcome everything, to rejuvenate yourself. You have new goals. Then you build yourself, from the ground up. You already have the foundation. Just keep on breathing, keep on searching, keep on exploring. 

The war is terrible. It was hell. But the experience created a new me. The new me is almost like a kid. I'm such a nice kid, I continue to be a nice person, and it's going to be [even] nicer in the future. I don't know how long I've got left, but I'm not going to worry about that. What I'm going to worry about is that I'm going to maximize every good thing. 

Like tonight, I'm going to go to the garage and we're going to go inside and have a cigar. Then the food will come, then I'll take the food and share when I arrive. And I'm going to go to a firepit in the cold for a little bit and just rest. That's my plan for today after being with you today.

[Say,] "I have a new life. That [was] just a war story. I decide to change myself" And one thing will lead to another. Things get better. Nothing is permanent, according to Buddha. Start now and look forward to the future.  (laughs) I'm going to be OK, and it's not going to stop. It's going to keep on going.