And just like that I’ve moved on. Back to travelling. Back to having at least three currencies on your person at all times. Back to new beds, new wall plugs, new foods, new languages. Back to waking up in one country and falling asleep in another. But going back to travelling means that I’ve left Cambodia behind.
Time is so strange on trips like this. It feels like I have lived in Cambodia my whole life and yet I can remember the day we flew in like it was yesterday. It feels like Laurel has always been there with me and yet it can only have been three days since she arrived. How can seven months have gone by and it feels like no time and forever all at the same time?
It was difficult saying goodbye to the country I have come to love and the people I have spent seven months pouring into. Sometimes it feels like Cambodia was just a lovely dream and now it’s time to wake up. Or that this is a dream and I’ll wake up in Cambodia soon. But I wanted to give you a small taste of what Cambodia was for me.
Cambodia is the feel of the sun beating down on you as you drive your moto. It’s sweat stains in your helmet. It’s watching the mangos get ripe… and the watermelons, and the pineapples, and the coconuts, and the breadfruit. It’s grit in your teeth after a long bus ride and dust on your feet after endless games of Gope Sie. Cambodia is Khmer spoken very quickly. It’s dinners on the rooftop when it’s too hot to eat indoors. It’s motos whizzing past, barely missing you as you walk down the street. It’s young boys fishing from their dugout canoes at dusk time. It’s watching geckos catch bugs in your guesthouse. Cambodia is walking up to wedding chants at 3 a.m. and the sound of the icecream truck going by. It’s late night chats and mornings so early you think you can’t possibly make it through the day. It’s eating rice and chicken with your fingers because who can be bothered with a fork? It’s having to readjust your travel plans because someone set up a wedding on the street you needed to go down. Cambodia is the sound of Khmer people laughing and kids playing jump rope. It’s literally blood, sweat, and tears (but primarily sweat). It’s being so hot you think you might die but going out to play soccer anyways. It’s feeling like your brain is twisted in knots trying to communicate. It’s the taste of cold watermelon when you’re hot and dusty. It’s tight hugs and people taking care of you. Cambodia is love and blessing and heartache and poverty and boundless joy all rolled into one.
That’s what Cambodia is to me… and I miss it...
It’s hard to believe that in two weeks we will be back in Canada!
Love you all.
:)
Time is so strange on trips like this. It feels like I have lived in Cambodia my whole life and yet I can remember the day we flew in like it was yesterday. It feels like Laurel has always been there with me and yet it can only have been three days since she arrived. How can seven months have gone by and it feels like no time and forever all at the same time?
It was difficult saying goodbye to the country I have come to love and the people I have spent seven months pouring into. Sometimes it feels like Cambodia was just a lovely dream and now it’s time to wake up. Or that this is a dream and I’ll wake up in Cambodia soon. But I wanted to give you a small taste of what Cambodia was for me.
Cambodia is the feel of the sun beating down on you as you drive your moto. It’s sweat stains in your helmet. It’s watching the mangos get ripe… and the watermelons, and the pineapples, and the coconuts, and the breadfruit. It’s grit in your teeth after a long bus ride and dust on your feet after endless games of Gope Sie. Cambodia is Khmer spoken very quickly. It’s dinners on the rooftop when it’s too hot to eat indoors. It’s motos whizzing past, barely missing you as you walk down the street. It’s young boys fishing from their dugout canoes at dusk time. It’s watching geckos catch bugs in your guesthouse. Cambodia is walking up to wedding chants at 3 a.m. and the sound of the icecream truck going by. It’s late night chats and mornings so early you think you can’t possibly make it through the day. It’s eating rice and chicken with your fingers because who can be bothered with a fork? It’s having to readjust your travel plans because someone set up a wedding on the street you needed to go down. Cambodia is the sound of Khmer people laughing and kids playing jump rope. It’s literally blood, sweat, and tears (but primarily sweat). It’s being so hot you think you might die but going out to play soccer anyways. It’s feeling like your brain is twisted in knots trying to communicate. It’s the taste of cold watermelon when you’re hot and dusty. It’s tight hugs and people taking care of you. Cambodia is love and blessing and heartache and poverty and boundless joy all rolled into one.
That’s what Cambodia is to me… and I miss it...
It’s hard to believe that in two weeks we will be back in Canada!
Love you all.
:)