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

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.