About COSD School

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Son’s Story 

(Edited with permission by Kathryn McLean)

My name is Son Sorm and I come from a small farming  community about 40 km outside of Siem Reap. For generations my family  has depended on farming for survival. My entire life has been about just that – survival. This is my story.

I was born in 1977 during the Khmer Rouge regime. During this  time, my family, like many others, suffered incredibly and we lost many  friends and family members during this dark time. We were nearly always  on the brink of starvation and had to do whatever it took to make it  through each day. Even after the Vietnamese forces entered Cambodia, my  family’s situation was bleak and continued to deteriorate.

In 1980, soldiers invaded our village and opened fire killing  everyone in sight and burning the village to the ground. I managed to  escape but not without being hit by shrapnel in the head and arm – scars  from which I carry to this day. Shortly after our village had been  ravaged, most of the remaining villagers retreated to the nearby forests  to resettle. People were afraid to live there in case the soldiers  returned, and the place became like a ghost town. 

In that same year, my father was killed leaving our family with  three remaining members: me, my mother and younger sister. This  devastating loss drove us deeper into despair and my sister and I had no  choice but to work for our neighbors in exchange for food. As we lived  each day on the brink of starvation, my sister and I foraged in the  forest and combed the fields looking for anything to eat. Sometimes we  found crabs, frogs, or berries but we were never certain where our next  meal would come from. We were so hungry that we ate anything we could  find. 

One day I saw a bunch of mushrooms growing in a pile of cow  manure. My body was so overwrought with hunger that it didn’t cross my  young mind that they were possibly unsafe to eat. Within five minutes of  consuming them I became violently ill and began vomiting  uncontrollably. I began to vomit blood and continued this way until my  mother found me and took me home. As we didn’t have access to modern  medicine, she boiled some herbs in water for me to drink and luckily I  slowly began to recover. 

Illness was just one of the troubles we faced on a daily basis.  The other main dangers being a village littered with landmines, the  constant threat of attacks from soldiers, and of course the ever-present  threat of starvation. The strain became too much for my mother and one  day she told my sister and I that she was going out to find some food.  We waited for her to come back. I was about 4 or 5 years old at the  time, and my sister was just a toddler. She kept crying and calling for  our mother. I tried to comfort her and was able to arrange a place for  us to sleep under a neighbor’s house. This situation was not ideal  however as they treated us no better than they would treat farm animals.  

Every day we walked the short distance back to our house to  wait for my mother. One day turned into three. And then a week passed. I  began to wonder if she would ever come back. Feelings of guilt and  anxiety arose within me. Why did she leave? Would she ever come back?  After more than a week, my mother finally returned. My sister and I were  delighted that she came back and I felt it was the greatest gift ever. I  was certain that from now on things would improve. Little did I know  however, that our reunion was only to be temporary. Within a few days,  my hopes were crushed as my mother made what was probably the most  difficult decision of her life. Leaving my sister at home, she took me  to a village about 30 km away to live with another family. During her  absence, she had made arrangements for me to live with another family to  ease the burden of another mouth to feed and to increase everyone’s  chances of survival. At the time I didn’t understand why she did this,  but I realize now that she did it out of love.

I worked very hard for my new ‘family’ tending the cows and  water buffalos but I was treated very poorly and had no free time  whatsoever. When I got sick, no one helped me, but instead they looked  down on me, cursed me and complained about everything I did. I was still  very young and I depended on them for my basic needs of food, water and  shelter, so I had no choice but to follow their rules. 

After about two years, I decided to live with another family in  the same village. I hoped and prayed that things would be different  this time. In the beginning they were kind and gave me extra food, and I  began to feel cared for. But this quickly changed and within a few  short months they were forcing me to work longer and harder than  everyone else in the family. I became no more than a slave to the wants  of each member of the family. They ordered me around and worked me to  the bone.

One day, a man from the village approached me and offered to  help me. He promised to take care of me, to replace my now thread-bare  clothes, and even give me my own water buffalo. I believed him and went  to live with him and his wife. In the beginning, both he and his wife  encouraged me and after I received my new clothes and a pair of shoes I  felt certain that this time my luck had changed. But unfortunately my  dreams were once again shattered as the promise of a new life was  broken. I fell into the now familiar routine of being a slave. 

Having all my dreams repeatedly crushed for years on end left  me feeling depressed and empty. I mourned the loss of my family members  and as loneliness overcame me I began to lose all hope at any chance of  happiness. For years, I struggled to make it through each day, wondering  when I would wake up from the nightmare that my life had become.  Finally one day, after returning home late from the field and being  berated for my actions, I had had enough. The next day, without  informing anyone, I woke early and walked 5 km to the nearest temple and  asked the monks for permission to stay. 

At the tender age of 11, I became a monk and in doing so,  changed the course of my life forever. I found peace within the walls of  the pagoda and was finally able to heal and put some of the horrors of  my past behind me. While there, I studied Pali language and the  teachings of the Buddha and was able to obtain my high school diploma. I  even went on to attend university and completed a Bachelor of English  Literature. In 2003, the Ministry of Tourism announced a need for  official tour guides at Angkor Wat. Upon hearing this, I left the  monkhood and began studying. I passed the entrance examination and began  working immediately. 

My work as a tour guide has been very rewarding and it has  provided me with the opportunity to meet a vast number of individuals  from all over the world. 

There have been many people that have helped me get to where I  am today. I was fortunate enough to become acquainted with several  individuals whose kindness and generosity gave me the drive to keep  learning and improving myself. I have never forgotten those who helped  me. To mention a few:

-        The community members who purchased my robes for me so that I could become a monk

-        The Scottish man who helped me create my email address  and contributed towards my education (he was the first person to show  me American dollars)

-        The couple from Germany who generously contributed towards my university education

-        Tineke Crossland, from America who bought me my first computer and provided me with Internet access each day

-        Bryan, from the United States who made me a website for my tour guiding business and for listing me on Trip Advisor.

There are countless others who have assisted me throughout my  journey by generously contributing their time, energy and funds. The  creation and maintenance of COSD could not be possible without the  support of outside help and I thank each and every one of you for your  help. 

After 15 years apart, I was reunited with my mother and sister  in 2001. Although they live about 60 km away, as the three surviving  members of our family, we try to maintain regular contact with one  another. In 2007, I met my wife and our daughter was born in 2008. We  lead a simple life in the rural area of Prey Thmei Village, about 10 km  outside of Siem Reap town. My sole purpose these days is giving back,  specifically to the youth living in rural Cambodia. I feel so fortunate  to have been given a chance that I feel it is only right to return the  favor. By providing these youngsters with the opportunity to be  educated, they can contribute to the rebuilding of Cambodia and once  again make it ‘kingdom of wonder’.