1.man.among.13,607,069.fists

REALITY CHECK NO. 2

Imagine this fellow Khmericans: Luscious green tropical trees surround you and the Bahamas blue coastline of Sihanoukville at your footsteps. You are sitting under the shady breeze of a bungalow, sipping on some ridiculously fresh coconut juice. Now, picture you and 41 other perky university students enjoying a good time playing cards, eating fresh seafood and exotic fruits and swimming in the super chill Gulf of Thailand. With no worries in the world, you relax and let time fly by. At this moment, you are at absolute peace. This was no dream.

But just then and there, your concept of peace and your sense of tranquility become tainted to the reality that plagues Cambodia.

Two vehicles loom in the distance comes to a screeching halt. As they step foot out of their plush Landcruisers, a mushroom of mafia-style smoke hovers over them.

Their clique had no more than 15 people. All but two were males aged 21 to 25 at most. They had nice, clean, casual clothes. However, the two girls had on some of the skimpiest outfit I have ever seen. (Yeah, even skimpier than the Asian girls at UDub during spring quarter!). Anyways, my instincts rubbed off negative vibes. In short, I had a gut feeling that they were "bad news."

An hour after their arrival, my instincts began to take form. The first sign--large consumption of alcohol. Contrary to the TV commercial, Red Bull does not give you wings, especially when mixed with Angkor Beer--it just makes you rowdy. Second, excessive smoking. I swear I could hardly see their faces in the cloud of smoke they were puffing. And then their irrational behavior. Who in their sane mind would run around the beach yelling like wild baboons? Sure you can argue that these activities and behaviors are common among young adults, and rightfully, that is true. But let me drop in the final variable--guns.

Not one, not two, but I counted them all--13! Every one of the guys had a small pistol stashed at their back, tucked underneath their shirts. This frightening discovery was made when a couple of the guys began to playfully wrestle each other. They pulled the gun out without fear but everyone around the vicinity including us felt uneasy of the situation.

The four of us nonchalantly brushed off what we saw by continuing to play cards. Several more games later, the group got noisier and rowdier putting us on higher alert of our surroundings. Their wrestling’s got more physical and at times, I wasn't sure if they were playing for real or not. Out of nowhere, one the guys ran to the car. At this moment it felt as though everyone on the beach was cautiously watching the chain of events that was unraveling right in from of our eyes.

"Why is he running off to the car?"

"Is he really mad or what?"

"Or is all of this an act? They weren't wrestling for real, were they?"

All of us pondered these questions in our mind but we were hesitant to answer them.

I blinked for a second. Now, all I see in front is a demonically possessed young man with a large AK-47 in hand. My heart skipped a beat. I have never seen a massive piece of arms in front of my own two eyes until now. I was terrified beyond words.

With the AK strapped around his shoulder, the man came dashing towards the guy who he was wrestling with earlier. One man held him back, as though a fight was to erupt. We all held our breaths.

In the midst of the heightened tension and chaos, I started to ponder the worst case scenario and the well-being of my close friends. The four of us, quietly trying to avoid attention, began to make our refuge. We tip-toed, one-by-one towards the high deck bar for cover.

Another man intervened.

Reflecting back, he was likely the "boss" within the group. I could not make out his words but apparently what he had said alleviated the conflict. The AK was no where in sight after I made an attempt to look over the counter.

The tension had dissipated. The four of us convened. It was a group consensus: We need to leave this area now. But night has befallen on us. Our original plan was to sleep on the beach. And our bus had already left to headquarter for maintenance and won't return until next morning. What to do?

Option B: Talk a stroll (a rather long one) on the beach away from the "gangsters" in hopes that upon our return, the group leaves. In barely lit beach of Ocheteal, we walked with complaint, catching our breaths and reflecting the earlier encounter. One of my friends had mentioned that prior to the wrestling incident; he caught one of their men playing with a large samurai sword in the back. In addition, another person in our group also noticed a large stash of guns in one of their two vehicles while they were out changing into their swimming clothes.

Over an hour had passed when we returned to our original beach site. The majority of our friends were playing beach games on the sand. I glanced over towards the area where the other group was at and realize that over half of the original number had left. The six or so that remained was still drinking and smoking up a storm. I still kept a watchful eye on them as we sat on the beach chairs catching the breeze. Another 45 minutes or so had gone and too, were the remnants of the gangsters.

In all of my 25 years, I have never been put in the position where my safety and physical well-being was such at a high risk. In all of my 25 years, I have never seen a gun larger than the size of a hand pistol. And in all of my 25 years, I have never felt as defenseless as I did that weekend in Sihanoukville.

This experience has shaken me up tremendously.

Once again, Phnom Penh has cooked up enough attention for international observers. And as usual, sloppy politics is the blame for stirring up the pot; which some followers fear its eruption when the critically outspoken Sam Rainsy returns from his seventh month of self-proclaimed exile to Cambodia. This muchly anticipated event is just one ingredient of several bubbling events leading up the current political crisis.

Recall that a little over a half year ago, Samdech Hun Sen stripped the parliamentary immunity to three members of the opposition, Cheam Channy, Chea Poch and Sam Rainsy. Today, Channy has remain detained at Prey Sar Prison for more than five months all the while international human right organizations continue to bark the same voice calling for his releasal. Poch did fled to the States, but return a month ago to confront his charges that the ruling government claims for his role in conspiring the party's "shadow army" of toppling the regime. Rainsy remains abroad seeking further international support, however, observers like myself feel that he is running out of breath.

Now add the much debated border treaty with neighboring Vietnam into the recipe. From October 10 - 12, Samdech Hun Sen held high level meetings with Hanoi counterparts inking an agreement that he claims will "settle the borders between the two countries once and for all."

The Khmer diaspora and several dozens of border activists immediately cried foul. They claim that the treaty will give away both land and maritime to Vietnam, which in practice would legitimize the 1985 agreement during the country's occupation of Kampuchea. Defenders, including Samdech Hun Sen himself, claims that in actuality, Cambodia will gain more territory.

Understanding that the border issue is a sensitive topic for Khmers that might lead to civil unrest, Samdech Hun Sen has tighten his 'iron fist' by clamping down on all dissidents with defamation charges. The first to feel his wrath is Mam Sonando, director of the non-partisan station, Beehive Radio. Today, he remains at Prey Sar awaiting trial. Just last week, leader of the Cambodian Independent Teacher's Union, Rong Chhun was arrested. Three other critics under arrest warrants have found refuge abroad. And the last to be added to the growing list is Prince Thomico, a cousin of King Sihamoni.

Thomico's recent meddlings help sizzled the political pot, consequently, bringing the royal family into the picture. With his fiery words, Samdech Hun Sen declared on nationalize television that "no one even of royal blood is immune" to the charges. Furthermore, the prime minister has threatene to abolish the monarchy if the King does not endorse the treaty. Sides are now drawn between supporters of the royal family and the rurally popular ruling party. At present, the royal line-up of King Sihamoni, King Father, King Mother, and Prince Thomico are all in Beijing, China. King Father celebrates his 83rd birthday at the end of October.

Now back to the present with Rainsy. Humiliated by anti-Hun Sen demonstrations in the States and France, Samdech has vowed to get even. He received approval from Phnom Penh Municipality for a large scale demonstration upon Rainsy's arrival to Phnom Penh International Airport. Pre-rally have begun as anti-Rainsy banners dangle over a dozen front gates of the city's high schools and universities. His party countered, but their request to organize a rally for the support of their leader was emphatically denied.

With these ingredients simmering all together in one pot, one can naturally anticipate its boil spewing in the near future. Will we see factional fightings on the streets as similar to the 1997 coup d'etat when Rainsy returns? Will Samdech Hun Sen abolish the monarchy if King Sihamoni does not endorse the treaty? What is the fate of border activists currently detained and those in exile? Will more names be added to the list? And will the international community intervene if words turn into guns?

One thing is certain, the next several weeks all eyes and ears will be tuned on Phnom Penh, SE Asia's most politically vibrant capital.

Arunsuasdey bong paoun,

Part deux of "Where was Phatry?" picks off where I last left, Battambong en route to Siem Reap/Angkor. The trip marks my second visit in a yay over one month but this time around without the jaws of life that is family holding me down, suppressing my every movement. You know what I mean right, my fellow Khmerikans?!?

Bare with me now. So your parent's decide to take a family road trip to the summer vacation hotspot-- Canada. When you are a young kid any news where you get to leave your small town is exciting and even better when the opportunity is to travel to the cosmopolitan city that is Vancouver, British Columbia. But the sh*t gets old and boring.

Khmer parents do the same old same old routine. Leave right after the country rooster makes its voice known; jam pack the old school Cressida or some hideous Scooby Doo looking van bumping Sissamouth tunes for 5 hrs to the border. When you pass customs, the fogies change their currency. The next two hours or so, they go berserk in Chinatown buying everything: roast duck, stinky durians and other tropical fruits, bbq pork, pastries, soups; basically enough to feed a whole Cambodian village. No need to purchase rice as Khmer folks always is rolling in style with their industrial size rice cookers.

Guess where next? Yes, you are correct -- the park! Until I had the freedom to explore the city at the youthful age of 18, I thought Vancouver had only one park, the overly popular and much abused Khmer hotspot, Queen Elizabeth Park. Now bust out three or four of those colorful Khmer rugs (ka'thayal). For the next two hours, stuff yourself as much food as your body can take. Don't forget to take breaks by walking around the dome covered greenhouse and kill time by eavesdropping to watch newlyweds or take cheesy pics around the flower garden. This same old routine gets boring fast. Usually a nap for parents while the kids run around doing the earlier mentioned activities for a couple hours. Its around 5 or 6 pm now, just enough light for the road trip back home. But wait one more thing. Because parents tend to overestimate their food purchases and because you can't bring fruits across the border, it would be a waste to dispose such pricey delicatessens so the family enjoys (tries at least) one last meal together, usually at another park just meters before the border crossing. For a city of over 2 million inhabitants, it’s quite pathetic that Khmer parents can only fill the agenda with outings at the park and eating!

Enough of this typical Khmerikan experience tradition by Northwesters let us move forward with the trip to Siem Reap (SR).

Thursday. 9/29. So a friend and I got thrifty and dared to bus to SR for $5 a person instead of $15 under the "express" boat as the other two friends wisely opt for. Boy, I regret it. A word for future travelers: Do not, I repeat, do not take the bus! For more than 5.5 hours, you will be traveling in 10 mph on one of Cambodia's worst roads! We got there around 330 PM completely exhausted.

We checked in at the dirt cheap $4 a day double bed Naga Guesthouse. Um, why haven't our travel companions called us as we agreed before our split in Battambong? Apparently, they experienced mechanical problems on the boat and too arrived in SR much later than plan. I ran into them while walking around downtown to purchase The Cambodia Daily.

We decided with the couple hours left before sunset to go to Angkor Wat. But through what means? The typical boring Khmer style in air conditioned cars/SUVs or the true adventurous backpacker style, a bicycle? Shoo, you know what we chose!

Damn, I was rusty on the Schwinn. The peddle to Angkor Wat from our guesthouse was not too bad, about 10 km or more, I think. "Hey, are you Khmer?" a uniformed worker at the Angkor Archaeological Park entrance yells at me. "How dare you ask me such a question? Mok mot jea koun Khmer." I calmly responded and smiled. The two others had to pay 45 dead prez for a three-day pass, while we two Khmerikans got in free!

The second time at Angkor sure had its moments. The beautiful orange reddish tint filled the horizon. We could not wait to see the view on top. But as we arrived at the foot of one of the five towers, security guards prevented us from going up. Hundreds of tourists have already begun to make their descent down the railed steps. I tried to use my charm (or lack of it) by talking to one of the older female guards but no luck. All of them rejected us. So instead, we decided to continue walking around the massive complex observing the detailed carvings on the walls. Pitch darkness swallows the area within minutes. But instead of walking back out, we broke the rules by quietly climbing up the steps. The guards are nowhere in sight. We had to be extra careful; as one experience climber knows, the steps are ridiculously thin and steep. It was well worth the risk though, because we did catch one minute of whatever light of the sun that was visible at this time. We rushed down, jetted out the complex to the sounds of crickets and croaking frogs.

Friday. 9/30. Day two began with a good breakfast at the super sleek Blue Pumpkin. With satisfied tummies, it was back to our peddling feet to our first temple, the Bayon. Here, I was in awe all over again staring at the four-sided faces of what some scholars believe of Jayavarman VII, the greatest of all Angkorean kings. I lit some incenses at the foot of a sacred well where water still mysteriously makes route to. I washed my face with the water, donated some riels and explored the outer wall carvings that decorate the complex.

I know we visited another temple or two after this, but my memory is a blur right now. However, I do recall the next hour of unforgettable fight with mother nature.

At around 1 pm or so, the clouds began to darken up. But instead of taking the advice of one of the stall vendors to rest under the covered tarp, the four of us dared to duke it out. Fifteen minutes into our ride, the rain came, and it came down hard! (I’ll save a blog entry that I’ll talk specifically on "Cambodia rain"). At first we peddled and peddled hoping to find cover. But no luck where we were at. "Let's stay under one of the tall trees and wait for the rain to die down," suggests one of us. Well, we do so for 10 minutes but the rain had no mercy. We peddled back for about 30 minutes passed the previous vendor. They got a good kick out of seeing four foreigners peddling in the rain as we smiled passed them to a farther spot for refuge. Eventually, we found cover but after being pruned up in pounds of rain. Completely shivered, we tried to enjoy a hot bowl of noodles.

The rain did not let out after we finished our lunch. But the warrior spirit in us was determined to peddle back into town even though the ride back was about 35-40 minutes. Exhausted we were when we arrived to our guesthouses. I showered then napped. At 7 PM, we decided to visit the Cambodian Cultural Village, a must visited place for all travelers to Siem Reap!

Saturday. 10/1. Let's cross our fingers that mother nature doesn't ruin our plans today.

We had really good cheap pho at Dragon House for breakfast, and then off we left to Preah Khan. This complex is quite enormous. There, a very helpful and knowledgeable temple guard slash tour guide gave us a run around. If my memory serves me correct, and someone correct me if I am wrong, the complex is dedicated to the father of one of the Angkorean kings. Check out the garudas carvings, a mythical character that is half human and bird that guards the wall entrance. I remember eating good guava while observing one of my friends spit game to the local girl tourists. Haha.

Next, was the connected complexes of the Marching Elephant and Leper King. The former was where large gatherings of Angkoreans would come to listen to speeches from the king. On the peak of the latter, a sexless statue sits on the ground. Not too far was Srass Srong, a place where the king would do his medication. Light drizzle started to fall and immediately, flashbacks of yesterday clouded our thoughts. Luckily, it died out within 10 minutes or so. We enjoyed some ice cold freshly squeezed sugarcane juice while young local girls aggressively tried to persuade us in buying their products.

Ta Prohm complex ranks in my top three of the Angkorean temples (Angkor Wat and first, Banteay Srey). This temple is one of the main attractions due to the magnificent and fairytale like tree roots that devours many of the temple ruins. I paid my respects to Lok Ta there, a caretaker of the place and who covers in the Lonely Planet Cambodia book. I chatted with an African Norwegian man and his wife who purchased one of his musical instrument for only $10.

The way to Angkor Wat for lunch found us making an unexpected visit to Ta Keo. This place reminds me of Pre Rup because of the high stairs one climb to reach the peak.

The four of us split after our late lunch, but ultimately, aimed to meet up with each other on top of Phnom Bakheng for the unforgettable sunset. My first time here, I swore on my life that I reached a place where earth and heaven meets. Easily, over a thousand jammed the peak, snapping pictures, smiling and hugging love ones; sharing this special moment. I rather not put words to describe something as magical as the sunset on top of Bakheng, but bless everyone reading for an opportunity to witness the phenomenon. Ever heard stories of a group of thousands giving a standing ovation in appreciation of a sunset? Only on Bakheng! Pictures will be posted on my blog soon!

Our day was not over yet. Already satisfied from a full day of sightseeing, we closed the night with an entertaining and moving cello concert and lecture by Dr. Beat Richter. Dinner ended and I said my goodbyes to the two friends as tomorrow we go our separate paths.

Sunday. 10/2. With only 2000 riels left in my pockets, I fought starvation on the bus ride back to Phnom Penh. We arrived a little after noon time at the posh Sisowath Quay, where I withdrew some loot from the ANZ Royal Bank, the only bank in Cambodia that I trust. I ate well that day ;)

My second trip to Siem Reap/Angkor was equally fulfilling due to the fact that I had the freedom to explore as contrasted to the limitations I have with going with family/elders. Instead of exploring the temple by foot, we trek by peddling in our sore feet. Instead of eating at the same old restaurants, we dared to dine out at not just spots common for foreigners but locals. Instead of visiting just the main temples, we ventured into more remote areas such as Ta Keo, Srass Srong, etc.

This second trip will not serve as my last to Angkor. Surely, I hope to visit again in the coming months. What I look forward most on my third trip is visiting a small temple that bears my name. Really, no joke. If my name is unique as it is, it was a pleasant surprise to make the discovery on the map. I wonder what the history behind Prasat Patri is. Does anyone know?

It’s another farewell for now, but do visit my blog regularly as I have resumed with the writings. In the coming days, I will share my thoughts on the current political tension that has engulfed Phnom Penh, the big craze for Cambodia's first "internationally standard" blockbuster film, The Crocodile (I saw it twice, back-to-back), and other random musings of Khmer society.

Do write back, as I love receiving your e-mails and thoughts about the content of my writings.

And lastly, to those inquiring minds out there. Mother knows all but this time, her assumption is wrong. The baby boy of the family has not found love in Cambodia, even though already seven weeks into my stay, I have been proposed three times by three different families.

And on that note, I say my peace and blessings.

Sam ma sam puth toe, Phatry
-P-

with the long hiatus comes a new layout. in the coming days, i will update the image banner to reflect my current home of phnom penh. additionally, i hope to hire an amateur photographer to take some new pics of me to use for profile. the current was taken by my favorite photographer, "shutterbug."


i will continue to update my album pictures as well. a lot of traveling and sightseeing these last several weeks, but unfortunately, i had no access to my own digital camera at the time. however, i will be getting one, along with ipod nano, next thursday as a friend from the states arrives with my goodies. i'm playing on my new laptop, ''indradevi,'' that came in on tuesday. damn, i am so spoiled! but like i said to maha k'bal cheese, i had no choice as i was born with the baby boy syndrome. psk.

enjoy kids!

Soksabai friends, family and even some ol' songsas (girlfriends),

"So whats the update, Mister? You haven't sent me one for quite some time now. Are you okay?" a concern friend writes.

"You didn't catch the bird flu or dengue, did you?" jokingly asks another friend.

"Son, you don't call us as much as before, did you find yourself a girlfriend?" demanded my mother.

The above are some responses and questions I have received in the last several weeks during my hiatus. Many, it seems, have noticed my lack of updates, blogging, and e-mail correspondence. The reality of my absence is that life in Cambodia has blessed me with the opportunity to travel more--to see the beauty and darkness that fills every corner of my country. This much needed third update part I recapitulates my highlights (and lowlights, if thats even a word) extracted from my personal journey dated from September 17 to the 30th.

Saturday. 9/17. I met up with three American friends from Seattle today. The four of us left to Apsara Arts Association (AAA) (www.apsara-arts.org) located on the outskirts of Phnom Penh. Our purpose: to deliver packages of goodies that included sanitary products, educational toys, and other kid gizmos. Additionally, we through a small party for 30 kids prior to their 730pm dance and music performances.

Naturally, I grew attached to many of the young kids there with their warm smile and playfulness. And several, surely enough, had fallen for my goofy humor and broken Khmer. Haha. I had one say, "Pu, haat ey samleng pu jom'lait m'es?" (Uncle, why does your voice sound weird?"). I will let your mind wander what I said in response.

Though the performances weren't acted out by the young kids, nevertheless, I had a great time watching them. Sreymom, 10, sat on my lap while Vuthy, 12, both gave me the most colorful commentaries to the dances. I learned more than I expected that day. The four of us left that night in a state of euphoria. I did not mention, most of the kids at AAA are orphans.

Friday. 9/23. The sights and sounds of the Tonle Sap River turns into a new playground at night. Sisowath Quay is flooded with foreigners and well-be Khmers who dine and drink out. Against the backdrop of an orange sunset, I share you these thoughts. Young schoolboys hustle selling souvenirs without a pair of shoes to walk the hot concrete streets. Food vendors yawns, desperate to make a sale or catch the sympathy of travellers. A group of people play a really weird form of vollyball with only their feet! A caucasian man struggling with communication, holding hands to a local Khmer girl half his age. My mind wanders off trying to escape the reality. I need a cold one right now. RS Bar is just in front of me. Nah, not tonight.

Saturday. 9/24. Bright in the morning, I left to Sihanoukville. This 4.5 hour drive gave me the opportunity to conversate with my driver, who I discovered was an avid follower of contemporary Khmer politics. Meticulously, I picked his brain. His age, education and experiences with foreign

journalists during Cambodia's past made our conversation lively and at times, controversial. Not to imply that I had opposing views, but it was interesting to note that a man of his age (mid 50s) was not fond of King Father Norodom Sihanouk. Usually, its the opposite.

We eventually arrived at our guesthouse, Geckozy, to meet up with my three friends. That night we dined at Holy Cow and wrapped up with karaoking. An unnamed friend got belligerent over the mic bustling out MJ's Moonwalk. Haha.

Sunday. 9/25. After a short breakfast at the NGO Starfish, we jetted to Kampot, a sleepy riverside town known for its salt and seafood. Try some and find out why. Anyways, we checked in at our guesthouse to unload. Since it was a free day for the team, we became adventurous and decided to go up Bokor. Recognized as Southeast Asia's largest preserved national forest and park, Bokor was once the mecca for vacationers during French colonialism. Today, few trek up to visit its main piece of attraction--the casino.

Motorists beware. The road to the peak of Bokor is treacherous! Our driver complained and had all rights to as we were moving at the speed of snails on broken potholes. Thirty so kilometers in thre hours. A little half way, we stopped at an abandon building, "Black Panther Palace" (thats the literal

translation of the building). Continuing the beaten path, we stumbled upon a Catholic Church, Post Office Station, and other abandon pieces of fine French architecture. Ohh yes, the fog thickened right about now making the journey even more challenging.

Zero visibility but we did not care. We caught a glimpse of a large Buddha statue. "We are almost there," shouted one of my friends. Out of nowhere, under the super thick fog common in cheesy horror flicks, the grand casino peeks out. I did not rush inside in typical Phatry fashion when visiting a new place but instead became hesitant to the eerie ness that surrounds the complex. The place is huge! It took us about an hour to tour around. Observe the rich designs in the floor tiles, especially in the Grand Ballroom. And don't forget to catch the breeze on the top third deck. The coolest air in Cambodia so far! And if you are lucky (which we weren't), don't forget to snap pictures overlooking the Gulf of Thailand.

Monday. 9/26. Another day, another new town--Angasaom in Takeo province. Interesting observation on our way here. I saw thousands of schoolkids yet I did not see many schools on the route, if any. I wonder how far students have to walk or bike to their schools. Work was on our schedule not for leisure as from yesterday.

We met up with a lady and her children who are acid attack victims. Instead of money, which I don't usually give out to young kids, I had about 20 lined up as I handed out three marbles each. Money is no usage for them and usually of no benefit as their parents will confiscate it later. And a note for street kids selling items. They too usually don't receive the money as their "pimps" takes their earnings. Its best to buy them food. So after the village stop to see the family, we drove back into town to a nearby market. There, we purchased medication, dried fishes, bags of rice, snack items, and a new bike for the young daughter. The small community was grateful to say the least. We left to Phnom Penh around 4 PM.

Thursday. 9/29. I have waited for more than 25 years. Today, I will step foot for the first time on the soil of my parent's home province of Battambong.

The four of us departed after saying our goodbyes to one of my Seattle friends. She had a couple days of work left in Phnom Penh while we had all the time in the world for more travels. This time around no personal driver escorting us but instead, we took the cheaper route, the bus. Packed in this comfortable, air conditioned bus, I killed time by I gazing out in the beautifully rich lime green landscape of the countryside. Life is slow and simple around here.

At 1230 PM, we reached Battambong (means "Lost Stick"). I got goosebumps as we passed through the famed Lok Ta Battambong statue where the city received its name. This second largest populated city sure doesn't feel like one as our journey was quiet and slow paced as contrast to the bustling towns of Siem Reap and Sihanoukville. We were greeted by a pretty lady into our guesthouse just a block away from Central Market.

All four of us, under my much improved negotiating skills, took a motodop to Phnom Sampov. This tourist spot is popular because it once served as a burial ground for victims of the Khmer Rouge. After much red dust on our body and clothes, we arrived at the mouth of the mountain. Make sure to check out a large Buddha carving etched on the mountain. Locals say it will take 5 years to complete and right now, its about 15% done.

Phnom Sampov is 135 meters in height. At its peak are temples, stupas of Lon Nol's wife, cannons leftover by the Khmer Rouge, and the most disturbing of all, caves where bones of KR victims lay rest. I had a hard time swallowing the images that stared right in front of me. I lit some incenses at one of the cave sites and pray for their souls for peace.

I only spent one night here in Battambong but promised to visit again for a lengthier time. I vow to visit my parent's village, visit distant relatives, my parent's old home, the monastery where my father did his monkhood, etc. I pinched a grain of red dirt and smeared on the pages of my journal. Ohh Battambong bondol chet eurrh, goodbye for now.

PART II includes my three-day trip to Siem Reap/Angkor.