Magical Tallinn and the people that gave us Skype

Oliver, Rob and I took a ferry from Helsinki to Tallinn for the weekend. Apart from feeling a bit sea sick on the ferry, it was a fine trip.

We spent a lot of our time in Tallinn simply wandering around. Although it feels like the walls of the old town are there to trap tourists inside it, we did not complain! The streets and buildings were beautiful and it was very interesting to learn about some of the history of the town. 

Town Market

How will our budget last through Europe?!

Walking in the steps of history

We know that man!

On the Saturday we visited the Estonian History Museum which is one of the best museums we have been to on our trip. Different mediums were well integrated to provide the history of the country. (As opposed to other museums that only use digital methods of presentation for the sake of it.) It was incredible how they fit so much history into such a small space and yet presented it in a concise and interesting manner. There was a temporary exhibition on "Children and War". They used curtains to create little booths were you could listen to individual stories and recollections of Estonians caught in conflict.

In the afternoon Oliver found a nice spot at a cafe for lunch. Rob and I, so absorbed in the museum, almost missed the town walking tour we had planned to attend. We made it in time for the tour guide's introductions but had to content our empty stomachs with delicious roasted almonds from a street stall en route. 

Our tour guide really knew her stuff and we learnt a lot from her. I found it especially interesting to find out about Estonia's struggles for independence. Unsurprisingly due to the geographical position of the country, Estonia has been under Danish, Swedish, German and Russian control. During the tour we learnt a little bit about the oppressive forces of the Nazis and the Soviets and the terrible consequences of war for Estonians. The methods the Estonians used to retain their language and what culture they could during these times were a fascination, as was hearing about the Singing Revolution. 

The Russian orthodox cathedral was a city symbol so disliked by that Estonia actually planned to demolish it, except that they didn't have enough money to do so! 

On quite another note, we found out Estonians invented Skype (but had to get the project financed elsewhere) and they lay claim to putting up the first Christmas tree. (However this is a battle of the Baltics with Latvia also purporting to have been the first).

The Russian church (it's a touchy subject)

By the Viru gates

Old Fat Margaret

Kiek in de Kok - Peek in the
Kitchen tower

The "quiet" backstreets

Walking outside the moat and city walls

Tall Hermann by the now parliament -  where the raising and lowering of the country flag is very ceremonial 

St Olaf's Church at dusk

St Olaf's from another angle

S-21 Prison, Phnom Penh

Cambodians, like the Vietnamese, have been through horrific experiences in recent decades through US/allied bombing, the disturbing rule of the Khmer Rouge, ongoing civil war, Vietnamese invasion and the nasty vestiges of war.  The eastern part of the country was heavily mined to restrict the movements of the Vietcong and the process of mining continued throughtout multiple regimes, as a way to maim but not always kill enemy combatants. The 'logic' behind this is that injuring a soldier takes two  enemy combatants out of action but killing only takes one.

Somehow while growing up, I either never learned or somehow blocked my mind to these tragedies.  When I did hear of Pol Pot, I imagined some far off dictator, some regime in South America, something that happened long ago.  But the truth is so much closer in time and geography.  Some of these heinous crimes occurred before I was born, but much of it so close that people on the street, little older than me must have suffered through the experience in one way or another, and many of those much older could have been directly involved with them, as perpetrator or victim.

S-21 Prison is actually a school that was used as a prison and torture facility after the Khmer Rouge came to power (1975) and drove most people from the cities to the fields.  Their brand of communism (like many others I suppose) was the belief that labouring in the fields was a glorious pursuit and that intellectuals and artists were a threat to the regime.  People would be brought here for "re-education" or "re-training" if they were not of use in their prior role, if they were somehow a threat to someone in power, or if they were suspected of being a CIA spy (or perhaps that last one was just used as a way to getting rid of people the Khmer Rouge didn't want around).  People were whipped, drowned, electrocuted, starved and executed within the walls of this school.  If they did survive the prison, many were taken out to the killing fields to be executed.

In one remarkable room, there was a section dedicated to a visit, in the late 70's, of a Swedish journalist who came as one of Pol Pot's guests to Cambodia, and left writing about what a glorious place Cambodia was.  He wrote about a classless agricultural communist state could thrive. He now writes about how horribly wrong he was, how ridiculous it seems that the wool had been pulled over his eyes, with he a willing participant. None of the others in his party have similarly stated these revelations. Kat found this display especially fascinating as it was a new addition to since her visit in 2008. It certainly raised questions as to whether we are turning a blind eye to the various conflicts or dictatorships around the world at the moment.

During our visit, we saw a documentary, where two of the only seven known survivors of the camp told of their experience, along with a "prison guard" who told of his role at the prison, and at being forced to murder someone at the killing fields to prove that he was an "absolute" follower.

Now setup as a quasi-museum to expose these crimes for what they were, a visit here is a sad, soul-crushing experience, leaving you to (again) wonder how humans can be capable of such atrocities.  Even after being driven out by the Vietnamese invasion in the late 70's, the Khmer Rouge continued a guerilla war to 1991. Disturbingly, the court cases against men like Pol Pot and his cadres have only recently commenced, with the man himself dying in 1998, before justice was done.

Stories we have read and seen are reflective of tragedies elsewhere where people under a dictatorship have been forced to do horrendous things to save loved ones or themselves. It is impossible to know what lengths one would go to in these circumstances. Although evidence perhaps points to the contrary, one would hope we as humans can learn from the devastation of war or turning a blind eye to our neighbouring countries and avoid any sort of repetition of these events. Cambodia is showing tremendous strength in rebuilding their communities with such fresh memories and resulting (and ongoing) pain of a truly horrifying time.

The War Remnants Museum, Ho Chi Minh City

Can't imagine what it would have been like to see these Hueys coming at you 

The War Remnants Museum exhibits the horrors of war in Vietnam's recent past with a message to never to forget the long lasting and devastating impact of war. The Vietnam War (as we refer to it) is known more locally as the American War, and really was a continuation of hostilities of the First Indochina War that the Northern Vietnamese saw as a colonial war, originally resisting French occupation and trying to reunify Vietnam as a communist state.

Kat spent a short amount of time in Ho Chi Minh in 2008 and the War Remnants Museum was the standout experience of her time. It is a powerful museum that exhibits some of the horror of the war and the continuing impacts it has on those involved. Most people know that as technology had improved, the horrors of this conflict was better documented than prior to this time. However, for us, nothing really compared to the photographs and stories shared in this museum. Two particular things stood out.  

From French photographer Huet

Requiem exhibit

On the top floor there was an exhibit called "Requiem" (Tim Page and Horst Faas brought it together and have a book of the same name, and we should credit the book itself here). This description from the exhibition itself puts it better than we could summarise:  

"....Between the height of the French Indochina War in the fifties and the fall of Phnom Penh and Saigon in 1975, 135 photographers from all sides of the conflict were recorded as missing or dead. This exhibition is a memorial to those men and women, and in many cases it includes the last photographs they took...."

Not just the last photographs they took, but ones they took moments before their own death, the words "last roll of film" give an extra definition to the full stop at the end of the caption.  

Capa stepped on a landmine after this "last frame"

This was truly a moving exhibit because it focused less on "we this..." and "we that..." but really just allowed you to see people and their experiences with a journalistic and artistic eye.

It's hard to pick a favourite (even the term doesn't fit), but some punched harder than others.  This image from Eddie Adams is of a South Vietnamese colonel threatening a Vietcong prisoner.  He would have only had seconds to take this photo, and didn't know until after it was developed what significance it had.  If you actually want to know what happened next, the photographer talks about it in this Youtube video.  

Eddie Adams' photograph of South Vietnamese colonel and a Vietcong prisoner

It has been a little harder to find online copies of North Vietnamese photographers.

Shadows of war (Dinh)

We don't want to diminish the other parts of the museum, for they too have a very significant and important message, and leave one feeling quite worn out, horrified, sick and generally disgusted that we as humans continue to do this to each other. An interesting element of the exhibitions was the use of language to show perspectives of history. In several places "American War" was used or "Vietnam War" (with apostrophes) to intimate how many view the atrocities that occurred here. It actually used to be called the "Museum of American War Crimes" among other names, which gives you an idea of the tone of the place.

Self-immolation as protest

The long-lasting impacts of Agent Orange

The other major element of the museum that stood out was the section dedicated to the horrific "Agent Orange".  Rob knew very little about the use of dioxin during the war or its devastating impact on land, crops and people generations later. Kat's knowledge was based on her last visit however the depth of information actually makes a second visit worthwhile. Dioxin can cause debilitating disability for millions of children and families, even now.  The vestiges of this insidious weapon are still felt in the Vietnamese (and to a smaller extent American) communities today, and there are still sites that have not been cleaned or treated since the anti-communist presence in the 70's. Particularly striking was the below letter to President Obama written in 2009 which shows how the devastating impact continues in second generation victims. This letter was exhibited after hundreds of photos of adults, children and babies affected by dioxin and asks if the President could spare some time trying to address this “forgotten problem”.

Letter from a second generation victim of Agent Orange to President Obama

Questions of accountability for actions of war and responsibility for the consequences loomed large during our visit. This article provides information on how 40 years post-war the U.S. has begun decontamination of the worst affected areas in Vietnam. This marks the countries first direct involvement in decontamination and is expected to take four years.

Parts of the exhibition showed the incredible skill that people with disabilities due to exposure to war chemicals have developed. For example, one story told of a man who could write with his feet. Seeing such stories and photos, especially those that involved children, Kat considered what impacts of war would she see when she began volunteering at an orphanage in the next few days.

The displays also made us think about what supports are there for victims of dioxin and how these differ between countries. For example, the article mentioned earlier compares the compensation which American veterans exposed to Agent Orange receive ($1,500 a month) to Vietnamese families with disabled children (just over $5 a month). Court cases and pleas to both the US government and chemical companies from Vietnamese victims have not been successful, whereas U.S. veterans' cases have. 

The direct and indirect effects of dioxin will continue to be felt by many Vietnamese now and in the future. It is obvious that a huge undertaking is needed to improve the lives of those with disability in Vietnam by providing better supports. Whilst the decontamination project is significant, if long overdue, it is only really part of the picture.