Some of us have a hard time to get up in time for breakfast, let alone at 4 a.m. to get ready to go to see sunrise over Angkor Wat. Yet, the tortuous alarm clock should remind us of how fortunate we are to experience sunrise over Angkor Wat.
I stood at the window on the top floor of the skyscraper in the heart of Bangkok looking out at the chaos on the streets below. It was hot and smoggy, and it had taken us about two hours to travel just a few miles to get here.
One in every four Cambodians was murdered during the rule of the Khmer Rouge, between 1975 and 1979. The Missing Picture tells the story of the genocide through a child's perspective, using clay dolls to recreate the director's memories and interspersing these personal scenes with actual footage.
The little girl laughed happily as she read the Braille with her hands, proud that she had mastered all the words. If it was not for the school set up for the blind and deaf, here in Phnom Penh, she would have been left in the dark.
Hostel living reminds me of one particular tour adventure I had. We were touring Ireland with the band, and we played a bar gig somewhere in the country where the fee included housing. Whoa. Never in my life had I stayed in such a place.
Have you ever visited somewhere and it stayed with you for a time after you left? Not in a nostalgic way, but in a way that lingers, like it has reached in and altered you slightly. That's how visiting Cambodia was for me.