The Museum I Almost Skipped... and important lessons I could have missed


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Confession: I'm not really a museum person.

Give me a mountain to hike, a bustling market to wander through, or a scenic viewpoint any day.

Museums have always felt a bit too much like being back in a high school history class, trying to cram my brain with facts, dates and information that I will be tested on later (and never use again)!

So after the awe of Angkor Wat in Siem Reap, Cambodia, I arrived in Phnom Penh anticipating more interesting sightseeing. The 5-6 hour bus journey through Cambodia's countryside had been beautiful, and I was excited to explore the capital.

The only reason I ended up visiting the Genocide Museum was because it appeared near the top of just about every "Things to Do in Phnom Penh" list I came across. The entrance fee was also affordable (read: cheap), which, let's be honest, is often enough to convince me to give a place a chance!

I had no idea what I was about to walk into.

Until that day, I knew nothing about Cambodia's Khmer Rouge regime and the unimaginable suffering Cambodians endured in the late 1970s, when an estimated 1.5 to 2 million Cambodians died through executions, forced labour, starvation and disease.

Like many people, I'd heard the phrase "Never Again" after the Holocaust of WW2, yet I hadn't realised that other genocides had followed in different parts of the world.

Standing in that museum, staring at the rows of skulls preserved behind glass was impossible to look away from, each one a silent reminder that every statistic was once a person with a name, a family and a future.

History, I was unaware of until then, came to life. It became real, personal and heartbreakingly human.

That experience completely changed how I think about museums.

I've since visited places like the Kigali Genocide Memorial in Rwanda and Robben Island in South Africa, and each has reinforced the same lesson: there is something profoundly different about learning history where it actually happened.

No documentary, book or classroom has ever left the same impression on me.

Yet, what I remember most about Cambodia isn't the tragedy.

It's the resilience.

When I stepped back outside, Phnom Penh was full of life. Children laughing. Cafés buzzing. Families going about their day. A country that refuses to be defined solely by one of the darkest chapters in its history.

In fact, looking back now, I can hardly remember what else I did in Phnom Penh before flying out.

The museum overshadowed everything else. Yet, I don't remember leaving feeling hopeless. I remember leaving with a much deeper appreciation of the strength of the human spirit and how communities can rebuild, even after unimaginable loss.

It also made me realise why memorial sites like the Kigali Genocide Memorial and Robben Island intentionally end their visitor experience with messages of hope and reconciliation. They acknowledge the pain of the past, but they don't leave you there.

Who knew the person who usually avoids museums would end up saying this?

Some of the most important lessons I've learned while travelling haven't come from the places with the best views. They've come from the places that helped me understand people a little more, a little better.

Now I'm curious...

Are you a museum person, or do you usually skip them like I used to? Have you ever visited one that completely changed the way you saw a place, a people, or even the world?

Hit reply and let me know. I'd genuinely love to hear your stories.

Your Travel Coach,

Maria Kamau (aka Mkay)

Travel Enthusiast | Bodacious Adventurer |Travel Writer

I help women over 40 travel confidently, affordably and on their own terms, without relying on tour agents or on others to realise their dreams.

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