Cambodia: A Bridge to Far
In early 1975, I found myself in Krong Poi Pet, a bustling border town between Cambodia and Thailand, on a work-study scholarship for young artists. The town was vibrant, filled with a mix of cultures and people, but the air was thick with tension as the Khmer Rouge began its ruthless rise to power. As the Pol Pot regime tightened its grip on the country, I quickly realized that my time in Cambodia was becoming dangerously limited.
One afternoon, as I sat in a small café, pondering my next move, a man took the seat next to me. It was Gideon Samuels, an American who introduced himself as a reporter for Rolling Stone. He was there to write an article on a new Asian form of blues and rock, a precursor to what we now know as K-pop. But this wasn’t the first time Gideon and I had crossed paths. Our first meeting had been in Central Africa, and now, here we were again, in yet another far-flung corner of the world.
Gideon’s presence was a strange comfort in the midst of the chaos, but his message was clear: it was time to leave Cambodia. He warned me that bad times were coming, and staying would be too dangerous. He offered me a ride across the border, giving me just an hour to gather my things. With no other options, I quickly grabbed an assortment of drawings I had been working on—one of which would later inspire a sculpture I named "Cambodia."
The journey out of Cambodia was perilous. At one point, as we approached a small bridge, two men armed with AK-47s emerged from the shadows. Without hesitation, Gideon shot them both, leaving me to wonder, Who the hell is this guy? It was clear that he was much more than just a reporter, though I never did learn the full extent of his past.
That day marked the beginning of a lifelong friendship. Gideon and I would go on to meet again, and though I never fully understood his mysterious past, I knew that our paths had crossed for a reason. He had saved my life in Cambodia, and that moment, like the sculpture it inspired, remains etched in my memory forever.