On December 1st 1994 the International Interfaith Pilgrimage for Peace and Life began in Auschwitz, Poland. The idea of the Pilgrimage was to commemorate the50th anniversary of the end of World War Two. It was organised by a JapaneseBuddhist monk of the Nipponzan Myohoji order (active in building PeacePagodas around the world) and it involved walking across 13 countries in six months.This story is about the journey across Cambodia, the most difficult and dangerous part of the entire pilgrimage.In Cambodia the Khmer Rouge is held responsible for annihilating the educated classes and the religious orders. Anybody who wore glasses or had soft hands was killed. Therefore present day Khmer Rouge-occupied (in 1994) Cambodia was in a very undeveloped state without irrigation or medical knowledge. The population is poor and uneducated and their farmlands are laced with landmines. Cambodia has the largest amputee population in the world. We saw them everywhere.Our mission was demonstrating loving kindness rather than fear and hatred as we walked through this war zone. We intended to bring out masses of people and get their support in believing peace is possible in Cambodia. As part of an interfaith group we were to join over five hundred monks and nuns and their leader, Maha Ghosandanda, Cambodia’s supreme Buddhist patriarch. They were all waiting for us to start their fourth yearly month long walk through contested territory. Before we entered Cambodia there were 45 of us. We gathered in a wooden floored dining hall to listen to the organiser for Cambodia. We were told we had to be aware of five factors:
We were entering a war zone where two walkers were killed and five walkers were injured in the crossfire between the Khmer Rouge and government troops in the previous year.
The area where we were walking was heavily mined. Although the roads were supposedly cleared there was no guarantee that new mines would not be put down just before our walk.
We were going to be walking through southern Cambodia at the hottest time of year, walking 20 kilometers a day for 21 days without a rest break, under the blistering sun in 45 degrees temperature. It was pre monsoon time when the combatants of war often had intense final shootouts.
We would be sleeping on temple grounds and although we had a truck that would be carrying water for us, it was necessary for us to make our own arrangements to filter our water, to meet our own needs,
This was a war-torn zone that had been in conflict for decades. Sanitary conditions were primitive with very few toilets and little running water.Also, no matter how many inoculations one had, the viruses were so exotic that no one would be fully protected from disease. If someone was sick or if there was a casualty due to gunfire, evacuation could only be byway of a $4,000 helicopter trip, which the injured party would have to pay themselves.We were told to weigh our needs and each must decide for him or herself whether to cross the border or not. I was the first to put up my hand, to say in a weepy voice, ‘I can’t do it, I’m too soft.’ I was extremely upset. A discussion opened where other people voiced their concerns and intentions. The leader of the pilgrimage Sasamorishoni said ‘Search your soul and look deep into your own heart and know why you really want to risk your health, your emotional fortitude and your life on this portion of the pilgrimage.’I took refuge under my mosquito net in a lovely forest by a river and I cried and I meditated. By the time we got to the meeting the next morning, I had made a different decision. I signed up to go on the walk. I knew in my heart that it was an impossible trek and I personally couldn’t do it but I felt it wouldn’t be me who was doing it. I had made the decision a year before to do this march to its conclusion and Cambodia was a part of it. As a meditation practice, as a retreat, I could and would do it.At the meeting that morning there was much discussion pro and con and fourteen of us made the commitment to walk: ten Westerners and four monks.We downsized our backpack to small daypacks containing only essential for the trek. We buddied up and vowed to take care of each other. We exchanged emergency forms containing telephone numbers of loved ones.We had been told to wear white tops and dark shirts so as not to stand out as rich tourists or potential militants. The white/dark outfit was what the nuns accompanying us on the march were wearing. Since I had nothing but brightly coloured shirts one of the nuns gave me two of her blouses. It was a very touching gesture. There were very many older Cambodian nuns walking; toothless widows who found solace in a spiritual sisterhood. They were very supportive of each other and us.The first morning of walking we rose in the pitch darkness at 4am for a 5am departure to be greeted by a road lined with candles. Local agricultural labourers who had travelled miles down from the hills to wish us well and to receive a water blessing held the candles. Maha Gossnanda, the ‘Ghandhi ofCambodia’ led the walk and gave teachings every night along the way. He was accompanied by two Cambodian monks. Then came our delegation of peace pilgrims – the ten Westerners led by Sasamorishoni and three other Japanese monks who were walking the whole pilgrimage. We took turns drumming and following Sasamorishoni who led the drumming and the call and response. I drummed early in the day when I wasn’t carrying my umbrella to protect myself from the sun. It was so hot. We were followed by the Japanese banner carrier with the mantra Na Ma Myo Ho Ren Ge Kyo written in Japanese. (This roughly translates as ‘All life is sacred.’). Then there were hundreds and hundreds of saffron-robed Cambodian monks followed by a couple hundred laywomen.Walking through the crowd, always there, was Brother Bob Mott. The year before during such a walk he had been taken captive by the Khmer Rouge.Fortunately there was no repeat performance.In fact the walk was not as bad as I expected. After seven days of 12-25 kilometer daily walks, we got a rest day. The rains didn’t come. There were no serious illnesses. The lack of toilets was as bad as forewarned but squatting by the side of the road became second nature.In a way it was a relief to travel so light. I wore one outfit one day, washed it when I washed myself in rivers or in a bucket of water from a large clay pot, changed into a simple cotton frock to sleep in and then put on my second outfit the next day. Three outfits, a mosquito net, a mat, a sheet and water purification kits were all we had to have transported by the truck between host temples.Cases and cases of bottled drinking water had been donated. They were carried on the truck and given to us when we wanted.We even heard less shelling than we expected. However when we did hear it, near or far, intermittent or persistent, it was breathtaking and deeply upsetting.On the second day a little boy who had been injured by shelling died while being transported past our entourage to the hospital. Sobering. However our presence was comforting to the parents.Along the way we were greeted by lines of candles and incense and peasant farmers lining the path with pails of water. The local people seemed to greatly enjoy watching the entourage walk past. It was like somebody was paying attention to them, someone knew they were alive. They looked as happy as if they were watching a parade. It was as if peace had come. Perhaps peace was possible. The toughest part was a half-day stretch of road that was heavily mined on both sides so anytime we had to go to the toilet, we had to squat down right there in the road. Fortunately I was in the group at the head of the procession!Every night when we stopped it was a big party for the locals. It was one of the few safe times to congregate as it was hoped the Khmer Rouge would not attack.After feeding us, the locals listened to Maha Ghosananda teaching. He would preach the simple message, ‘Peace begins with you.’ Each night he would say ‘the suffering of Cambodians has been deep. From this suffering comes deep compassion. Compassion makes a peaceful person. A peaceful person makes a peaceful family. A peaceful family makes a peaceful country. A peaceful country makes a peaceful world.’The trek would usually come into the temple grounds just before sun set. We would scurry around trying to find a place to set up our hammocks and mosquito nets. The monks slept in the temple, the nuns slept in the dining hall and the only place the Westerners could usually find to take cover was the crematorium.The Asians have ideas about the spirits in such places, which we didn’t share.Sometimes we were treated to rather scrumptious meals with lots of vegetables.It was mango season and they were plentiful. Often though our meals were simply a bag of rice flavoured with dried fish, the local people’s contribution from their empty larders. We could see them walking down the side roads to meet us, carrying their bags then putting their offerings into the truck for later distribution. Travelling with us on the march was a grass-roots Cambodian organisation who every night set up displays and educated the locals on how to spot landmines, how to contact mine sweepers and what help is available from international charities for those who have lost their limbs.Clearing mines is painstaking as every inch an indentation must be made in the ground. Every monsoon brings up further mines to the surface. Every year millions of mines are removed and twice as many are laid by warring parties.Utter madness. The madness was catching. There was one night when I was feeling threatened where I was sleeping and the thought flashed through my head: I’ll just find a land mine and put it at the entrance to my sleeping place and then I will be safe.The peace march arrived in Battambang on May 12th to be greeted by more than ten thousand people. We were amazed and moved by the thousands more who lined the roads for hours in the rain, patiently waiting for this walking statement of hope and non-violence. My walk ended 11 days later, exhausted and near total collapse, while we waited for permission to enter Vietnam for the next leg of the peace pilgrimage.