Breaking Free (5 page)

More likely, Aunty Peuve was getting old and cowardly. Her business was going downhill. Her husband was using up all their earnings and abusing all her girls. Besides, Dietrich was a rich, white man, and nobody messed with rich, white men in Cambodia.

After all her grand dreams of how she would escape and all her nightmares of being beaten to death, Somaly walked out of the aunties’ brothel in full daylight, on her own two feet. She began her new life on a day like any other. The sun rose and set like it always did. Only this time, Somaly got to see it with her eyes wide open.

“The sky is clear after raining.”

~ Somaly Mam

Love and Other Mysteries

Every day Somaly spent in Dietrich’s villa, she felt like she was living in a palace. Each hot shower was another miracle. Only she still had to have sex with Dietrich whenever he wanted. She could never forget that he’d bought her companionship. She was always his “special friend,” not living on her own terms. She also felt like she couldn’t trust him entirely.

After about six months of living together, Dietrich said he had to go back to Switzerland for work. He really wanted Somaly to come with him. Somaly was not into that idea at all. She was scared because she wouldn’t know anyone or speak the language. What if Dietrich turned on her and tried to sell her? That’s what had happened every other time she’d trusted a man.

When Somaly said no, Dietrich was disappointed, but he understood. Before he left, he gave her the equivalent of $100,000. He made sure his translator was clear when he said good-bye. He wanted Somaly to use this money to get a motorbike, go to school, anything she wanted. Dietrich was a compassionate man.

The first thing Somaly did with her money was give each of the girls at Aunty Peuve’s enough to pay off their “debts” and buy their freedom. Then she enrolled herself at the Alliance Francaise so she could learn French. Dietrich’s friend Guillaume gave her a place to stay and helped find her work as a maid. Those first days of independence were thrilling for Somaly. She was so excited to be earning money and living on her own in Cambodia. She had to pinch herself to believe it was true.

At the same time, it was pretty terrifying being on her own. Guillaume invited her to a lot of parties. Somaly liked meeting Guillaume’s friends, though she felt like she’d forgotten how to talk—especially with men. She had been told for so long to be silent like the silk-cotton tree. Girls were
property
, not people. Now even introducing herself made her confused and frightened. It was so strange to say
I am Somaly
without adding
I belong to ….

Plus, she kept thinking anyone who started talking to her just wanted sex, or worse, to own her, too. At one of Guillaume’s parties in 1991, Somaly met a Frenchman named Pierre. Pierre was working for a French relief agency. He was scruffy but handsome. He spoke perfect Khmer, which was huge to Somaly. She hadn’t heard a man speak kindly to her in Khmer since she was in that open-air schoolhouse with Mam Khon a lifetime ago. The first night Somaly met Pierre, they talked in Khmer until the early morning.

Pierre was the first man who showed Somaly true respect. He was the first man who took her out just to
be
with her, instead of for sex. He asked her questions and really wanted to hear her answers. Somaly told him her whole story, how she wanted to feel clean and whole again. Pierre was the first man to listen to her dreams and help her make a plan for the future.

Somaly wanted to start a small business. Pierre gave her some funds, and she took them straight to the market to buy school supplies for her family in Thlok Chhrov. With the rest of his wages, Pierre started a café where Somaly and he could work together.

It was clear that Pierre was in love with Somaly and wanted to marry her. She had to tell him she liked him a lot, but she wasn’t interested in some great romance. She didn’t really believe in the word
love
. She admired him and was grateful for their new life together. But she couldn’t be married to him or anyone else for that matter. It brought back too many nightmares of Than. Pierre said he could appreciate that.

The café did well for the first year or so. Phnom Penh was bustling at the time. The prince had just returned to power and the Vietnamese occupation was over. The United Nations sent in 22,000 peacekeepers to help the government transition. All this meant there was a lot of new money and thirsty foreigners to stop by the café.

Sadly, it also meant the brothel business was getting busier in Phnom Penh, too. Every day, lots of new restaurants and bars were opening up. They served food and after-dinner “entertainment” from young women. Pierre made sure that any man who came into his café with a girl who looked underage was thrown out immediately. Somaly saw Pierre fly into a rage more than once. He had a bad temper. It made him lose a lot of business, but he didn’t care. Pierre was a man of principles.

Somaly made a small but steady income as a waitress in the café. Every time she got paid, she brought more food and school supplies back to her family in Thlok Chhrov. They were still struggling just to feed themselves. No matter who was in power, the government was completely out of touch with what was going on in the countryside. There were many people starving to death or selling their daughters for bags of rice.

About a year after opening the café, Pierre told Somaly that they’d lost too much money. He needed to cut his losses and close up shop. He asked Somaly again to marry him. His new plan was for them to settle down in France. Even though they’d been a couple for a long time, Somaly still didn’t want to attach herself to any man. She really struggled with the thought of being bound to Pierre in any legal way.

Still, the café was shutting down. Most of the Cambodians Somaly knew were trying to get out of the country as fast as possible. The United Nations was organizing the first government elections, and people said it would lead to another war. Everyone Somaly talked to said that if she had the opportunity to leave, she should.

In order for her to get a passport and visa, Somaly and Pierre had to be married. Pierre pleaded with her over and over again until Somaly finally said okay. They went to the French embassy and signed all the papers. It was the first time Somaly ever wrote her name on an official document. She didn’t know her date of birth. She had to make it up.

She took Pierre back to Thlok Chhrov so they could say goodbye to her adoptive family. Her father was very worried about her leaving. Her mother begged Pierre not to abuse Somaly. They’d seen this happen with their other daughters. Marriage in Cambodia still meant the husband could do whatever he wanted to his wife because he
owned
her.

Somaly tried to explain that Pierre was French and had a good heart. But inside, she couldn’t shake the feeling that one day he would turn around and try to sell her, too. She swore to Pierre and to her parents that she would be back soon. Then, before boarding the plane, Somaly packed a sharp knife in her suitcase, just in case Pierre tried anything funny. If she was going to start a new life, she was going to do it on her own terms.

“Life is never over; you can turn your life’s page. You will never forget it but you can forgive. Don’t be afraid to start a new life again and again.”

~ Somaly Mam

Unspoken Promise

France was like a completely different universe to Somaly. Pierre’s family seemed loud and rude to her. Plus, she couldn’t get over how much food was wasted at every meal. She could feed an entire family in Cambodia—for a week—with the crusts of bread left after breakfast.

But Somaly was determined to give France a try. She was ready to start from scratch, even if that meant throwing away platefuls of untouched food and smiling when Pierre’s mom insulted her (which she did a lot).

Somaly started studying children’s books and newspapers, so she could learn more French. She answered an ad and got a job as a maid in a hotel. Most of the people staying at the hotel were very old. None of the other maids paid attention to them. But Somaly had been taught always to respect and care for the elderly. She thought the residents were sweet and lonely. After cleaning rooms and waiting tables, she started visiting a few and rubbing their feet. They taught her French and called her beautiful. They also gave her lots of tips.

While Pierre was still looking for work, Somaly earned 2,500 francs in two months. This was enough for them to rent a one-bedroom apartment in Nice. Somaly felt really proud of herself and of her new earnings. She started working nights at a restaurant, too. Then she added a third job of harvesting grapes in the countryside.

Everyone who met Somaly was amazed by her strength and strong work ethic. She slept about four hours a night and still woke up full of momentum. (Not to mention, she could easily crush more grapes than Pierre.) She was so happy to get praised for her new skills.

She was now more than just a body. She had a keen mind and a generous heart. She really was her own person.

After a year and a half in Nice, Pierre got an assignment back in Cambodia. It was with
Medecins Sans Frontieres
(Doctors Without Borders, a humanitarian agency giving medical services to countries in crisis). Somaly was a little sad to be leaving, but she also wanted to get back to her homeland. She felt exhilarated by how much she’d learned and grown in the short time she’d been away. She was ready to return to Cambodia with a new confidence. She could look people directly in the eye now and express herself clearly. Most of all, she knew there were girls in Cambodia who never had this sense of self-worth. Somaly was determined to change that.

Somaly and Pierre moved into a house about two hundred miles north of Phnom Penh, in a town called Kratie. They lived with fellow workers from Medecins Sans Frontieres (MSF). Somaly started volunteering at the MSF clinic as a translator and medical assistant. She worked with the doctors who treated sexually transmitted diseases. Most of her patients were men. She knew these were the same men who were going to the brothels or paying for sex on the side of the road. They were infecting countless young women every night.

Somaly hated who they were and what they did. She also knew she had to care for them if she was ever going to change the cycle of abuse and disease.

One day at the MSF clinic, an eighteen-year-old girl came in. Somaly could tell she was caught in the sex trade, but she didn’t want to ask. That would only embarrass or scare the girl away. Instead, Somaly gently explained the risks of infection and showed the girl how to use condoms. It was 1994. AIDS had just come to Cambodia and it was getting more and more people sick.

Before saying good-bye, Somaly asked her patient to tell her friends to come to the MSF clinic for treatment. Somaly promised she would be there every morning and would personally make sure they were cared for kindly.

The girls started filing in each morning. No questions asked, no judgments or scorn. Somaly gave each girl medicine and condoms. She also made sure to give them a look that said
I get it.

Soon, Somaly didn’t wait for the girls to come into the clinic. She went directly to the brothels themselves. She asked Pierre’s boss if she could have a stock of condoms and soap so she could pass them out as she worked her way through the alleys. Pierre’s boss wanted to help her, but it was hard to get MSF to foot the bill for hundreds of bars of soap. They were supposed to be giving out only medicine.

Somaly didn’t waste time fighting. She knew, once again, that nobody took the situation in the brothels seriously. Nobody saw how endangered these girls were. Pierre’s boss handed her some boxes of condoms. Somaly emptied her pockets, marched down to the market, and bought the soap herself.

Walking back into a brothel for the first time was horrible in a thousand ways. Somaly was sure she’d break down seeing the girls on the floor, helpless and alone. The thing was, she couldn’t show a sliver of emotion if she wanted to be taken seriously. So she dressed up as an official nurse, sucked in her breath, and held her head up high.