‘we don’t dare tell our children what Cambodian once was,’ he said. ‘my oldest boy asked me to continue to teach him to read and write, now that there are no more schools. But I didn’t dare, and there are no books. I just told him to work harder, just a little harder, in fields, so that he will survive.’ I asked the boy’s age. Soth looked at me sadly and said softly, ‘ten years. Ten.