Trek Feet

Finishing up a cup of the deep, sooty coffee they brew in these parts, watching a tiny reed of a girl sweep the courtyard and thinking how easily we could live here. 

I love this place even better than last time - the endless plots of rice fields, the good humor of the people, the sleepy pace.  I like how the motos are slightly less aggressive than in Vietnam; that there are actual lulls in the traffic. That you can cross a street without an unspoken promise from the drivers that they’ll swerve around you at the last minute. I like the fuel sold in reused bottles at the wooden corner stands.  And the little villages flanking the highways, lit up by a modest florescent bulb or two.  I like this town - even if it’s growing up and losing its rougher edges.  I like this country’s resilience….what they are after what they’ve come through.

Probably, I just didn’t take time to notice most of this last time.

Spent the day at Angkor yesterday. Three and a half hours at the first set of temples - when we came out, the tuk-tuk driver barked out in glee.  “I thought I lost you!”  It was a little bit Jerry McGuire, a little bit Brokedown Palace. I suppose he was hoping to avoid telling our guesthouse he’d misplaced the two dumb white kids with all the cameras.

We’re off to Angkor again today; I don’t know how these ruined old mysteries in the jungle could ever get boring. Even the locals still wander around them, playing cards and swimming in their shadows.

The airports are closed by protestors in Bangkok and so far, we’re not worried. The prospect of having to stay in Cambodia is far from a crisis.