Why? Why I’m so bad? He don’t do anything to me. But I need to survive. I need to eat. Before, I kill human being, and now I kill this little animal. Why? Because every minute I have to think about surviving. Every minute.

All of a sudden I’m Khmer Rouge. These people I hate, now I’m one.

The Khmer Rouge, they do anything to stay alive. Same for all of us. Always trying to see which way the wind is going.

“Before the Khmer Rouge,” he says, “I was orphan, and hungry all the time. The people, they judge me, shame me, hit me sometime for what I do to get food.” He look over at the rice field, where kid are working now at night. “Why I would give this shame to other kid?”

The Khmer Rouge, they kill whatever they hate. Sometime, even, they hate each other. They suspect always that someone is no good, and so they test, they ask questions, like trick. “Do you love Angka? More than your brother? Then tell us if your brother is bad. Tell us if you see him be lazy or steal food.” You say no, they kill you. They say yes, they kill your brother. Then they kill you, too.

I walk away from this guy, my leg like water. I trip a little, and maybe for one minute I think I will fall down. I fall down now, never will I get up. So I walk.

She says I’m a little bit famous now, from playing the khim. She says the Khmer Rouge like our music. She says more high-ranking guys are coming here to hear us. She says all this good thing, but I stay modest. You act too proud, it means you love yourself more than Angka.

Many time when I play I keep my eye close. You look out the window, you can see the other kid working in the field, so tire, so hungry, almost dead. You see this, you think maybe you will feel sad. But you don’t feel anything. Only relief that you can be inside playing music, not working in the field.

New guy in charge our group today. No more Frog Face. No explanation about where he goes. Looks like the Khmer Rouge even make other Khmer Rouge disappear.

Then she hold us all in her arm. “Do whatever they say,” she whisper. “Be like the grass. Bend low, bend low, then bend lower. The wind blow one way, you bow that way. It blow the other way, you do, too. That is the way to survive.”

They don’t explain, but I figure what they doing. They kill everyone who used to be rich or high ranking. Anyone with education. All the soldier, the teacher, the doctor, the musician. Anyone poor, no problem. World is upside down. Being rich now is no good. Being poor, this can save your life.

I want money, but also I want to have fun. Maybe it’s low class. But it’s okay for me.