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Cambodia has buried the hatchet with its Vietnamese neighbour, but many scars remain today from centuries of conflict, and the occupation of the Kingdom during the decade that followed the overthrow of the Khmer Rouge by forces of the NUFSK (National United Front for the Salvation of Kampuchea) and soldiers from Hanoi. Today, the often-silent discrimination against the Vietnamese people has gotten the better of more than one mixed marriage between Cambodians and Vietnamese.

 

For example, some Cambodian students in Hanoi universities have Vietnamese girlfriends and sometimes even marry them, but are reluctant to introduce them to their families back in Cambodia, fearing their wrath.

 

At the same time, dynamic commercial and labour transactions along the two countries’ border areas have contributed greatly to establishing good relations between the peoples from both sides. But this trend of living together in harmony does not prevail in Phnom Penh, where the Vietnamese often live in exclusive communities and whose presence the locals resent.

 IS LOVE FORBIDDEN?

 HANOI – In his small room on the 4th floor of the Ra Vao Ky Tuc Xa Xuong Xe Xuat Tringh Giay Yo boarding school here in the heart of the Vietnamese capital, Thearath, a Cambodian medical student, is busy working on his computer. By his side is a Vietnamese lady, a touch impatient. Asked who his companion is, Thearath seems embarrassed. “Er, she is only a friend. . . ,” he replies, with nervous laughter.

In truth, the presence of Vietnamese women in Cambodians’ student rooms is not rare. But few are the students who will confide that the women are their girlfriends, or sometimes, their wives. About 10 Cambodian holders of scholarships in Vietnam have already married women from their host country and many more are dating them, estimates Ouk Chheun, president of the North Vietnam Khmer Students Association.

But these romantic relationships cannot fully erase the negative perceptions that Cambodian people often have of the Vietnamese. “The ones who took the plunge and got married wanted to make their very serious relationships official,” explains Ouk Chheun. “Nonetheless, getting engaged to a Yuon lady is viewed with some contempt.” (‘Yuon’ is the pejorative word that many Cambodians often use to refer to the Vietnamese. Trainchath Buth, a former lecturer and former senior official of the Interior Ministry, explains that ‘Yuon’ is a Khmer word that did not use to have the negative connotation that it has today. He cites the Khmer dictionary published by the Buddhist Institute in 1968 that says ‘Yuon’ are inhabitants of Tong Koeung, Annam and Cochin Chine.) Some justify such sentiments by saying that resentment is anchored deeply in many Cambodians’ hearts. Even if history books do not mention past territorial violations by Cambodia’s neighbour, these stories are nevertheless passed down from one generation to the next as part of collective memory. Even though love stories between the two countries’ nationals do exist, virtually none of the young Cambodian students in Vietnam are ready commit to bringing their Vietnamese companions home with them. Chivoan, a 5th year technology student in Hanoi, is no exception. He had just gotten married to a Vietnamese – and showed a marriage contract as proof -- but is not ready to swear that this will be for keeps. To return to Cambodia with or without her is the question that torments him. But for his siblings, there should be no doubt about the answer: he cannot bring home a Vietnamese wife. “Even though we already live as husband and wife, my brothers and sisters tell me that this is not a problem, that it would be better to abandon my studies in order to leave her immediately. I get distraught. Even if I turn this problem around and around in my mind, I still don’t know what to do. But, to be honest, I doubt that I will stay a long time with her,” Chivoan, an orphan, finally admits with some reluctance. “If I were to give up my nationality, it would be to take a European passport, but certainly not a Vietnamese one,” he adds. He says that he has explained the situation to his wife, who knows that their future family life depends on the decision Chivoan will take once he completes his studies. She asks in an irritated manner: “If Cambodian people hate Vietnamese people, why do they come here to study? Why dwell on negative past history that causes suffering to this young generation?” Cambodian husbands’ desertion of their Vietnamese wives, under intense family pressure, seems to be quite common. Kim Sarith, education advisor at the Cambodian embassy in Hanoi, recalls having been visited by an abandoned spouse who wanted to pick up the trail of her husband, a scholarship holder who had returned to Phnom Penh. “He left behind his spouse and child. We felt pity for her but little could be done, because it was a private matter. We should keep in mind that most Cambodian families despise Vietnamese people,” said the advisor, who declines to elaborate further. For Pech, another medical student in Hanoi married to a Vietnamese, discussion of the marriage issue is taboo. When we visited him in his room at his boarding school, his wife was busy feeding their young son. As soon as he found out the topic for the interview, his face became flushed. Hurriedly, Pech asked his wife to step outside with their child. He staunchly refused to answer questions, while apologising profusely. A student next door discreetly told us that Pech married the young woman after she got pregnant. It seems to be a very confidential matter. We met Pech’s sister in Phnom Penh; she apparently does not know anything about the marriage. “It’s time for him to come back here to Cambodia to look for a wife now that he has gotten his bachelor's degree in medicine. I don’t understand why he is hanging around like this in Vietnam,” she wonders. Vanna, a 5th year engineering student with a Vietnamese girlfriend, says his relationship has not changed his views of Vietnamese people at all. “I still think they are crafty, untruthful and noisy people! If I go out with a Vietnamese girl, this is only because I need love. I’m not thinking about marriage at all. In fact, my family keeps reminding me about this. They don’t mind if I make friends with Vietnamese males, but they don’t want to hear anything about any Vietnamese girls! Otherwise, they have threatened to kick me out and disown me for good. Now, if I get married to a foreign girl, they don’t mind, as long as she is not Vietnamese or Thai. I already spoke to my girlfriend about this and she accepts things as they are,” he explains. “However, I know that if I leave her, she would be grief-stricken. At the same time, I cannot spend my whole my life in Vietnam, and, vice versa, she cannot follow me to Cambodia where we would be rejected by both my family and society.” Phalla, who recently earned his medical degree in Hanoi and had entered into an arranged marriage with a Cambodian lady, did not have the ‘right’ to fall under the ‘spell’ of the Vietnamese. To dissuade him from entering into romantic relationships, his father had sent him a flood of letters all through the time he was studying in Vietnam. “As you can see, in each of his letters, he was reminding me that I shouldn’t become infatuated with a Vietnamese girl, and that I should think of my family’s honour, as well as of the neighbours who would not hesitate to make fun of us,” he relates, unfolding some of the letters. Then there are the Cambodian students who avoid getting involved with local women without need of any prompting from their families. This is the case of Chamnab, a polytechnic student, who claims that he cannot find any good qualities among the Vietnamese, except that their universities enjoy a better reputation than Cambodian ones. In his class, he says, there are only four Cambodian students who always stick together and never sit on the same benches as Vietnamese students. They prefer to ‘hide’ at the back of the classroom. “I have never had a Vietnamese friend because they aren’t trustworthy and they easily go back on their word. . . . I came here to study only because it was easier to be granted a scholarship and also because their diplomas will open more doors for me compared to Cambodian diplomas,” Chamnab confesses in front of his compatriots, sitting on a bench in the courtyard of their boarding school called Ky Tuc Xa A3. A Cambodian woman studying economics adds that she disapproves of her compatriots who marry Vietnamese women.

BREAKING BARRIERS

But being a Cambodian-Vietnamese couple is not a problem for everybody. Keo, working on his postgraduate thesis in medicine, does not see any obstacle to his romantic relationship. “My family didn’t criticise my marriage to a Vietnamese girl; they respected my decision,” he says, his wife and child in his room. But behind his back, a few Cambodian students from his building do not miss this opportunity to criticise Keo’s decision. For Uk Chheun, yet another student, it remains difficult to dismiss all criticism that Cambodians usually express about Vietnamese people, but concedes that increased contact with their traditional ‘enemy’ does sweep aside feelings of animosity. “I’ve already spoken with Vietnamese people, either friends or policemen in the street, about the issue of territorial violations perpetrated in Cambodia by their country. They know how much we hate them, but for them, our two countries are like brothers,” emphasises the student, whose sentiments have mellowed since he started living in Vietnam. From time to time, some young Cambodians have been beaten up in fights that break out in cafés at night. But such brawls are not due to discrimination, as is often thought in Cambodia. Kim Sarith of the Cambodian embassy confirms that these incidents are due more to alcoholic stupor than to any kind of discrimination. “These are alcoholics looking for a fight. There is nothing beyond that.” Vimean, a computer student, was wounded during once such full-blown altercation. This left a large scar across his neck, the handiwork of a drunk Vietnamese man who used the sharp edge of a broken plate as a weapon. But Vimean says that he enjoys good relationships with the Vietnamese. “What is past is past. We have to look forward to the future. We have to be honest and admit that everywhere, you have some good and some bad people. The next generations are not responsible. What’s the benefit of living together yet pointing daggers at each other?” he asks. Hoang Cao Cuong, one of Vimean’s Vietnamese schoolmates, is among his best friends. The two have developed a strong bond, helping each other and sharing meals together. Cuong lent money to Vimean when he had some financial difficulties. But they never discuss past conflicts between their countries. When asked about the resentment of Cambodian people toward the Vietnamese, Cuong appears surprised. “To be honest with you, I have never heard about such things. At school, we were taught that brotherhood has always prevailed between our two countries, which successively fought together against French and American (troops) and finally put out of the way Pol Pot and his men. We get along well with the Cambodian students who are at school with us, especially with Vimean. They invite us to all their parties and traditional celebrations,” he explains. Of the fact that some Cambodian students resented their hosts, he adds: “That’s too bad. I hope that through the assistance provided by Vietnam to Cambodia, they will change their minds. In fact, I call on our two governments to strengthen their cooperation in terms of education in order to create opportunities for students of our two countries to meet each other and exchange ideas, and thus put resentment and misunderstandings on the table to put an end to discrimination.” In southern Ho Chi Minh City, much closer to Cambodia than Hanoi, the atmosphere seems more conducive to harmony between Vietnamese and Cambodian. Not just Cambodian students but entire families have come to live in Vietnam’s economic capital. Most settled in the early seventies to flee war and then the Khmer Rouge. All the Cambodians we met there spoke about their smooth integration in society, which swept away the vengeful sentiments they had when they first arrived. In contrast to Ho Chi Minh City, Cambodians, except for students on scholarship, mostly just pass through Hanoi. “For example, they come on the occasion of missions or training of civil servants,” emphasises the advisor with the Cambodian embassy, Kim Sarith. Phoeung Vankhay, a 45-year-old Cambodian who moved to Ho Chi Minh in 1975, considers Vietnam his home, even if there is no mistaking his accent. “All my neighbours know I’m Khmer, but that does not prevent us from getting on well. They view us like any of their Vietnamese neighbours,” he adds. He is the only one from his family that remained, because all his brothers and sisters decided to start a new life in Cambodia. “I’ve been staying here because I was afraid of a new type of Pol Pot regime in the Kingdom. But it doesn’t mean I have abandoned my country! Yet the fact that Cambodian people consider Vietnamese people invaders bothers me. It is like everywhere else; you have some good people and some bad people. . . . If in 1975 the Vietnamese people did not allow us to enter their territory, we would all have been exterminated by the soldiers from Phnom Penh who were pursuing us!” Vankhay remembers the solidarity that his then-penniless family received upon arriving in Vietnam. “Without being assisted by authorities and neighbours, we could not have survived,” he recalls. At this point, a neighbour greets him as he passed by her house. “We never have arguments with this family; all of them are kind. And I am impressed with their two children who succeeded in getting important positions,” adds the Vietnamese lady, smiling.