Vendors do not stop visitors as they rely more on local residents for trade. Old people play mahjong in the sunshine, while carefree kids run across the cobblestone roads.

I talked to an old lady basking outside her house near the town's entrance and on the main street. The location would be perfect for a tourist shop, but she said she had never considered opening up for business.

Beside her house a middle-aged woman was selling oranges. The scales showed the bag contained between 1 and 1.5 kg of oranges, but unlike big city vendors, instead of adding more oranges to make it 1.5 kg she took some out to make it 1 kg and then went back to her TV program.

The former garrison town is searching for a new role. Tourism obviously isn't flourishing yet, which means the town has an unspoiled flavor.

The local government seems to have realized the damage that over-commercialization can cause and has worked with Norwegian organizations to develop the town as an eco-museum.

The eco-museum concept sees the community itself as something to preserve.

Residents can choose to stay in town or move to a "new city" several kilometers away. If they want to refurbish their old houses or buy new ones in the new city, the government and a loan project by the World Bank offer financial aid.

Walking around I saw a notice posted by the local government about protecting the old town: "Any house renovations should maintain the original look."

The little town and its painful past deserve sensitive and careful development.