I am always in awe of the expats who have lived in Cambodia for 5, 10, 15 years; even 2 years has proven to be utterly taxing. Not because of the dusty streets, the grime that rinses away when you step into the shower, the harried and hectic traffic, the miscommunications and culture gaps- but because of our expat cohorts. It hasn’t been the first time I’ve noted that Phnom Penh seems to draw some real characters: from the slightly confused to the absolute deranged, there is not shortage of “wtf“.
That Quiet Little Mountain Town. The amount of breaths, thoughts, experiences…stuff… that has happened in these past two weeks: in the world, in America, in my heart: vast. I am exhausted, fatigued to the bone and only able to process scraps at a time, little scintilla of memories as my mind rests and wanders, wakes and tremors.It has been 13 days since soaring into the air towards Phnom Penh, Cambodia and two full back home, in Washington- in Tacoma, Standard