It is hard for me to fathom, and is actually getting harder as we get on with our trip, how immensely privileged we are. The insane randomness to be born white and male, as a German in the most peaceful and prosperous age Europe has know in its existence. To have had all the opportunities that I have and all the doors that are open to us.

How? Well, let’s start with the obvious. Yesterday, we basically ran out of money. What we have in cash on us is pretty much all we have, and it may last us a month. For the majority of people we interact with daily, heck, for the majority of people, that is an existential everyday issue. But not for us – we are privileged. We have a network of friends and family that will support us, lend us money. Understand that there is no existential issue here – we do not need money to survive or get out of a dire straight. We are able to peruse happiness as we see fit, due to the incredible friends and families we are lucky to have.

More important, we grew up not knowing the realities of real large scale violence and war, yet we got to grow up not fully ignorant to such things. As it is a remarkable thing Germans do. I have stood in the field of graves at Verdun and have been terrified by the silence that lies over Buchenwald as part of my publicly funded education. Glimpses of horror and chances given to us to become weary without ever really being threatened to suffer any such things ourselves.

Today we went to visit the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum located in what has become known as the S-21 prison of the Khmer Rouge. Once again, we got a glimps of horror into a world that we will never have to truly understand. But we have to try. Because the perpetrators, in all these cases, from the Mongol rider to the KZ prison guard, are not some other beings. These were all humans, just like us. It is in us to commit unthinkable acts of violence. A shift in morals or ideology can happen any time, any where. All individual steps to insanity are … understandable in some way.

The horror lies in the ordinarity with which atrocities are committed. For me and in this place, it is the obsession with the confession. Most vile acts were committed by the Khmer Rouge and millions of people died. The machine soon ate its own children as well. Yet this insane system could not just be OK with killing the prisoners or “enemies”. Everyone had to confess first. People were tortured for weeks, to get the confession. Confessions were obviously bullshit, full of lies. Heck, most of the time people would not even have anything to confess to begin with and just not know what their tormentors wanted from them. Everybody would be killed in the end anyway, but so much pain was induced to just “follow the rules” and oblige to the internal logic of this devilish farce.

I am privileged without end to be able to learn in these places without ever having to suffer anything remotely close to the horrors that happened here. I feel deeply for the Cambodians and am utterly impressed with how positive and lovely everyone is that we encounter.

Right there and then though, we got reminded once more how we are privileged in a whole different way again. We were somberly making our way through the former high school turned torture camp turned museum listening to the very well done audio guide. Then, I see someone wholly unexpected. Right here, of all places, we ran into Celia and Tig, or hosts from Darwin again. It was the strangest of moments that can only really come from a trip like this. To see someone else we know and care for, admit the horrors that surround us was elevating and humbling at the same time.

We chatted a bit awkwardly over the first surprise of reunion and then agreed to meet after we were through with the audio tour to hang out a bit more. So we did, and it became a lovely evening of reminiscing, catching up on travel plans and some engine talk.  If both our plans go as we think, this will be the last time we see the two of them before Germany (the invitation to stay with us is already issued). Never say never, though …

So yeah, we are privileged. No point being ashamed of it, same as there is none to be ashamed of being born into less privilege. We try to make the best of it, seize the opportunities that we got and stay as humble about it as we can.