An Arranged Marriage

I am not sure how old I was when my mom told me about my parent’s arranged marriage, but I’ve loved the story ever since I was a child. Arranged marriages are customary in Cambodia. Parents consulted match makers and even astrologers to find the most suitable match for their sons and daughters. Often the match was economically or politically beneficial to the families involved. Sons typically had a say in whether or not they agreed to the match. Daughters usually agreed to please their parents and future in law's. A girl that refused an arranged marriage would be labeled as difficult and even ungrateful. Therefore, more often than not, the daughter would say yes to the match. The hope for an arranged marriage is that the couple respectfully co-exist as partners. If they learned to like each other that was a blessing, and if like turned into love that was a miracle and the match maker would boast about that for their entire career. The tradition and culture around arranged marriages has relaxed over the last two decades, especially for Cambodians living abroad.

However, when my parents were matched in 1979 it was still very much the norm; even in the refugee camps, an older sibling, guardian or elder was involved in setting up the match. 

My parent’s marriage was orchestrated by a crafty, yet lovable mutual older friend.

The version I grew up with as told by my mom went something like:

“I had a good friend at the refugee camp who knew your dad and his family. He said I should marry your dad because I was all alone in the camp and needed a man to protect me. He was from a good family, smart and well educated. My friend told your dad the same thing about me. I was a good girl from a good family and needed him to protect me. Your dad was not interested, but his friend convinced him to go down to the river and take a look at me. I was bathing in a sarong in the river and your dad watched me. I was so stunningly beautiful that your dad told his friend right away, ok I will marry her.”

For years I romanticized my mother’s story. I must have repeated it a million times and clearly missed the awkward facial expressions of people that wondered why my mother agreed to marry a Peeping Tom. 

About a year ago I retold the story to my dad. He roared with laughter and uncontrollable giggles at this version of their love story. He was equally appalled that my mother made him out to be a creep.

My mom shouted, “Well it’s true!”

My dad rebutted, “No, it’s not! You are crazy. That never happened!” My parents were both hysterical with amusement. My mom was smug that she had perpetuated such a good farse for all these years. My dad was delighted that he got to reprimand her for such a lie. It was a wonderful example of their playful relationship.

However, my entire childhood was flipped upside down. If this wasn’t the story of the romantic courtship, then what was?

After my dad calmed down from his giggles. He recounted the real story.

In 1979 my dad arrived in Mairut, Thailand, a refugee camp along the Northwest border of Cambodia. He like many other Cambodians had just escaped the Khmer Rouge regime, a communist government that killed somewhere between 1.5 and 3 million people through slave labour, starvation and torture. My dad arrived at the camp with a critical case of malaria. He was taken to a hospital in Thailand as the treatment in the refugee camp was not sufficient enough.

My dad spent a few weeks in the hospital and befriended a Thai family. My dad was and is outgoing, talkative and a natural connector. He makes friends wherever he goes. Charmed by my dad and his story of survival, the Thai family offered to let him live with them after his recovery at the hospital. They wanted to support his college education that was interrupted when the Khmer Rouge took over Cambodia. However, my dad had to decline as he was registered at the refugee camp and had to return once the malaria was cured. He told them that once he got back to the camp, he would find out what his options were to resettle in Thailand and then reconnect with them.

While he was at the hospital my mom arrived at the camp. She had a bout of malaria herself while escaping Cambodia. My mom and her older sister, almost lost their lives as two young women, 18 and 20 years old, traveling alone in jungles filled with armed men and terrified animals.  When the sisters made it safely to the refugee camp they were taken in by Sin Heng and his wife, who acted as their guardians. They knew my aunt well from their time together in the Khmer Rouge labour camps. Sin Heng welcomed my mom like a long lost family member. 

As soon as my dad returned to the camp. His good friend Sin Heng, told him about my mom. He explained that she needed to be married right away, “She is from a good family and is a great girl. You should marry her. She needs a husband to protect her here.” Sin Heng grew up in the same village as my dad and knew his family would approve of this match. My dad said no and described his plans to live in Thailand and continue his college studies. His education was critical for creating the life he wanted.

After the conversation with my dad, Sin Heng shared with my mom, “I have a friend. He’s from a good family, is a great guy and looking for a wife.” My mom replied no. She had just arrived at the camp, had a near death experience and just wanted to recover. She was incredibly shaken up by her experiences the last 4 years and was not interested in marrying anyone.

Sin Heng went back to my dad and told him that my mom wanted to get married within a month. My dad responded that was too soon and asked to extend it until he finished college.

The friend told my mom that my dad wanted to get married the next week. She was taken back and said that was impossible. Sin Heng returned to my dad and informed him that my mom wanted to have a wedding the next day.

My dad confused and flustered about how quickly this arrangement had escalated, asked his friend if he could at least meet her. Sin Heng agreed and alerted my mom that he would bring my dad for a visit. Later that day he took my curious dad to see my equally curious mom. She brought them some water and kept her head down, staring only at his feet. Delighted by her beauty and kindness my dad looked at his friend and whispered, “Ok, I’ll marry her”. Three days later they were married.