Safe haven now home

Cambodian migrants (seated centre) Soeung Prak and his wife San Chuon are surrounded by their...
Cambodian migrants (seated centre) Soeung Prak and his wife San Chuon are surrounded by their extended family in the family's Dowling St, Dunedin, restaurant.
The absence of gunfire should not be a luxury.

But it was for the Prak family when they arrived in Dunedin in May, 1992.

Soeung Prak, his wife San Chuon, and their daughters Thy and Thoeun spent 12 years in a Thailand refugee camp before finding safe haven in New Zealand.

The parents, subsistence farmers from rural Kandal province north of Cambodia's capital Phnom Penh , had already lost four children to malnourishment during the years of the Khmer Rouge's terrible reign.

Then in 1979, with an invasion by Vietnamese forces in full swing, retreating Khmer Rouge soldiers swept through their village ordering everyone on to trains taking them northwest towards the Thai border.

From there about 1000 people, including Mr Prak, a pregnant Mrs Chuon, and Thy, began a year-long forced march under armed guard.

Thoeun was born during that year.

The family was given one cup of rice per week, and were only allowed to sleep, without shelter, for two or three hours at a time.

When orders were given, those who did not comply immediately were killed.

Eventually the group, with its captors still nearby, entered a Red Cross refugee camp in Sakaeo, just inside Thailand.

When it became clear the soldiers intended to take their charges away again, all 10,000 refugees were shifted 20km to the 100,000-person Khao-I-Dang refugee camp.

Safety is a relative term.

The sprawling camp was an improvement.

But most nights armed gangs of up to 200 men intent on robbery would breach one section or another of the fence.

You could never sleep deeply lest it was your neighbourhood again that night.

Surviving members of the San Prak family (back from left) Thy, San, Soeung, Thoeun (front from...
Surviving members of the San Prak family (back from left) Thy, San, Soeung, Thoeun (front from left) Wannasa, Wanitta and Alexia stand together in a Cambodian refugee camp in Thailand in about 1991.
And if it was, you had to keep low and run as quickly as possible, amid the gunfire and grenade explosions, for the safety of the well-guarded Red Cross hospital in the centre of the camp.

For the three youngest daughters, Alexia, Wanitta and Wannasa, born between 1983 and 1986, this was the only life they had known.

When they eventually found willing sponsors, Dunedin was well-used to receiving Cambodian refugees.

It had been a different scenario when New Zealand, and the world, first began responding to the humanitarian crisis in 1979.

Barbara Johnston is a Dunedin-based migrant community co-ordinator. She was an English language teacher when Dunedin was designated a Cambodian refugee resettlement centre.

"It was an emergency response," Ms Johnston said,"These days it is done differently. More training is given."

In those days sponsors, whether they be church groups, neighbours or individuals, worked out what the new migrants' needs were and responded to them - from finding accommodation, furniture and clothing to getting enrolled with a doctor, understanding how to pay electricity bills and looking for work.

By the time the Prak family arrived, the Refugee Support Group charitable trust was operating.

It employed a full-time Cambodian community worker and a part-time bilingual teacher.

Up to 1200 Cambodians lived in Dunedin in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

Warmer weather, more jobs and larger Cambodian populations, however, drew most further north or to Australia.

But not the Praks, who are among about 30 Cambodian families still in Dunedin.

"We didn't go to Australia because Mum wanted us to stay and study at Otago University," Wanitta Praks said.

"She said we were here so we should make the most of the opportunity.

"We feel half Cambodian and half Kiwi, but New Zealand is our home."

 

 

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