Kampot and a new friend.

We met a nice young man in Kampot town. Kampot is a quiet river town with no allusions or pretense. The only nearby attractions are its famous pepper plantation – Kampot pepper is a national treasure, a few caves, the river itself, and the fact that the Khmer Rouge hid out in the hills near here as recently as 12 years ago. There has not been much tourism here yet, but perhaps its just a matter of time. The region is very beautiful with lush jagged mountains rising up from the fertile rice fields, it is gorgeous.

Our first morning led us to breakfast at Bokor Mountain Lodge, the most civilized Western establishment in town. Fronted by round tables with curved slope-backed benches of a heavily varnished wood like mahogany, the setting by the river invites a ponderous morning beverage.

Across the street in front of the river sat a gaggle of tuktuk drivers huddled about two tuktuks. I dropped over and inquired as to the day rate for exploring the caves and a pepper plantation. One young man perked right up with solid English, “I can take you to the caves, the pepper plantation. Would you like to go to Kep or Rabbit Island?” “No,” I told him, we are moving there after tomorrow. He was not only the most enthusiastic, but the only one of this gang who seemed to want the job. He seemed hungry for work and quite friendly. Mr. Van Doen became the next of our ‘driver-friends’, younger than all the previous ones and more interested in getting to know us.

We headed out of town an hour later and stopped for some water. I offered to buy him a cold drink and he accepted a Coke with no ceremony. We headed out once we established which caves we wanted to see, there were three to choose from. His tuk was a bit low on the shocks and a bit underpowered on the pull, but he wore no helmet and could trade comments and bits of Khmer language help as we rolled along. We chose the nearest caves which were unique for having a temple relic inside, purported to be from pre-Angkor period. He also mentioned that this cave was near to his house.

While ambling through the rice fields up to the base of the mountains, Van Doen told us about the Khmer Rouge guerillas that had lived just two mountains behind this one. They used to come down to fight on Saturdays, they felt this was a lucky day for battling. We were trailed by four younger kids (flashlight guides for the caves) who immediately took Bodhi under their wings. He was delighted to have some kids to run with. We made our way up to the caves and enjoyed the stalactites that resembled various animals, here a crocodile, there an elephant, etc. We were then led into a separate entrance for passing through the mountain for the intrepid spelunkers. I was wearing only sandals, Amee and Bodhi demurred at the initial double overhead scramble descent with the only light one shined in your eyes by the 10 year old guide. I started and found myself halfway down, halfway up and not willing to finish either direction, stuck really, too steep, too slippery to continue and not sure how to get out. I made it out and we left the area, not until some deliberation had finished on what to pay the four helpers and how the kitty would be split up.

Van Doen asked us if we’d like to take lunch at his family house nearby. We were delighted to accept. Here was incomparable countryside and an invitation for a genuine Khmer country lunch. He tried to phone ahead to his father to slaughter a chicken for us, but couldn’t get through. We drove to a nearby pathway where he parked the tuktuk and we walked across one of those thin lanes between the rice paddies. He pointed in the near distance and said ‘that my house.’ We passed one grass-roofed structure, a neighbor he shouted ‘hello’ to. We came around a bend through some trees and entered a small courtyard with some chickens, dogs and haybales about. We rounded the house and in the rear yard found members of his family, his mother, who greeted us with shining eyes and delight, his sister with a baby on her hip, just finishing lunch of what appeared to be rice with something on it, a handful of other kids under age 6 and some pigs nosing about for scraps.

A table was set up and some plastic chairs brought out. His father helped, though remained mostly inside the main house, a brother or younger male figure hovered on the periphery. I realized that we were likely the first Westerners he had ever treated to this privilege, I wondered why. On the way out of the caves, Van Doen had told me about his life, that he was learning English, that he wanted to go to university to learn computers, that he would like to be a driver as an additional job. He couldn’t afford University yet, it was $230 per year, I thought of how little money that was and wondered if I could help.

We were served a delicious fish soup over rice. The fishes were very little silver fish which we’ve since seen the boys catching in the river from the bridges in town. There was not much meat on them but lots of flavor and the soup was loaded with morning glory greens. We were very grateful for this experience. After, Van Doen explained that the small house had been even smaller but that he had worked selling vegetables to earn more money to improve the house. Tarps where rice and small green beans lay drying around the courtyard. He told us that the family could now grow enough rice to get through the year and would dry it now and store it inside the house. Van Doen told us about his father, that he had had to leave the area due to Khmer Rouge, to live in Phnom Penh so they would not kill him and take his land. He had returned after 1996 and had to start over on this piece of land.

After lunch we brought out the Cambodian hackeysack and Van Doen’s father came bounding out of the hut wearing sneakers and ready to rock. Bodhi joined in and we had our best game yet, it went on for a very long time! We invited Van Doen to visit us in Kep with his fiancé – this would be a bit different relationship, more as friends, not working for us. We await his visit in a day or so.

Photos by Amee Evans Godwin - more photos here!

Beng Melea Ruins - A surprise school for orphans.

Photos by Amee Evans Godwin - more photos here!

After a few days exploring Angkor Wat area, we left Siem Reap town to go to a temple complex 40K away. Beng Melea is known as the true ‘jungle’ complex. Where Ta Prohm is the nearby temple the forest has tried to reclaim, Beng Melea is truly part of the jungle. It has not been restored and is only navigable with a local guide. Ours was Mai, a landmine victim who spoke only a few words of Engish but was expressive and patient, repeating each Khmer phrase until we could get it. She had lost her lower leg at the age of 15 in an area explosion. This complex is completely de-mined but until recently was considered on the risky side without a guide. It is deeply mysterious, quiet and shady with huge broken stone blocks that you must navigate.

While having a bite of lunch back at the small village road we were approached by a handsome young man who handed us a small flyer about his orphanage/school across the street. He described himself as a lifelong orphan who made his work with children, orphans and teaching English. The flyer invited any visitor to check out the small school and garden and donate any needed items including rice, fruit, notebooks, toothbrushes, clothing and especially a big smile and an open heart. On a deeper level, they need yearly sponsors for the boys.

Mr. Vannak led us across the dirt road to a small courtyard where some 6 or 7 dusty boys kicked a soccer ball. He showed us the small but vital schoolroom where he had been teaching English related to perma-culture concepts. He had recently taken a perma-culture class that some Australians gave in a nearby village. Amee toured the garden which was very good looking, while Bodhi began to play with the boys. We had a Cambodian hackeysack which many of them seemed new to (though it is ubiquitous in the cities), Bodhi began to show them.

Mr. Vannak told us that they had a small piece of land nearby where they hoped to farm vegetables, he wanted to show us. We got in the tuktuk and left Bodhi playing with the boys, he was thrilled to be playing with some boys his age and very comfortable to be left alone there.

We drove out to a dirt track that led to a pagoda with a few monks hanging around outside with a few ‘monk boys’ – they are helpers for pagodas. The track led past the pagoda to a nice plot of land including broad leafy fields and a fish pond. The little fish he had seeded the pond with were jumping furiously. The sun was very bright as Vannak told us of his plans to clear the land, which would require a tractor and cost some $700 for the acre. He wants to grow vegetables there in a perma-culture method. They are beginning to compost and reuse other materials such as animal poop for fertilizer. He wished to grade the road as well so that visitors could easily come to the land and he could access the vegetable plot more easily. I asked where they would get their rice and he told me that it was not enough land to cultivate rice for them, they need to buy their rice.

Some internal decision had gone on between Amee and I by this point, we recognized that this project, the Cambodian Children’s Rural Development Organization or CCRDO was very very worthy and very in need. Many projects we have visited were further along than this one and it struck a chord with us. Here was an orphaned boy, like our Bodhi, who had dedicated his life at a young age to helping other orphans in a place and situation that had very little help or other resources. We could see it with our own eyes, and perhaps, we could help.

Back at the school, Vannak told me that they needed a water pump and pipeline to bring water from the river across the way, to the school so they would have running water. The pump would cost $50. This I could manage, I thought. I am a supporter of Heifer International which uses the method of identifying one farm animal as a gift for a needy village or family - the supporter purchases one goat to give to a child, and is told how much benefit that goat will provide to that one person. I felt that here was a similar and accessible method of helping, I could see the benefit with my own eyes – for $50 I could buy a water pump that would bring running water to a school housing 17 orphans run by an honest and hardworking orphan himself.

I agreed to buy the pump and Vannak followed us on his moto into the town, Dundek, some 30K away. When we got to the town he was at the hardware shop, but the news was not so great. The pump he wanted was not in stock, the only one they had was matched with a higher powered generator than he could afford. I sensed the downward spiral approaching. We picked out some other supplies for the kids including blank writing books, pens, toothbrushes, toothpaste and some Cambodian hackeysacks! We gave him the $50 so he could buy the pump in Siem Reap on another day and bid him farewell. We hope to help him build a website so he can show the world the great work they are doing in Beng Melea and increase their support. Right now 80% of their budget is from passing tourists at Beng Melea, he wants to turn this into only 10% with the remainder from more reliable steady sources such as sponsorship of the children. He has a full non-profit setup with the proper forms and bank accounts. Meeting Vannak and the boys and helping just a little was a nice surprise for Christmas Eve.

Battambang

Photos by Amee Evans Godwin - more photos here!

In Cambodia, there is a steady smell of burning. It doesn’t really go away, but abates in the dead of night when the a/c and the ceiling fan and blessed sleep remove its acrid reminder of the poor places. By the side of every road is a small fire often with a tiny toddler stumbling about it – in fact, children burned from household fires is a constant source of visits to the hospitals, for those that actually seek treatment. The fires feed on weeds, hay, corn husks, coconut shells, a bit of trash, the smell is sweet and sad and disturbing and not faintly nostalgic.

In Battambang, the smell did not really abate, but the smog cleared a bit. We were able to travel by moto without constantly covering our mouths and noses with scarves or buffs. We hoped the provincial city would be more old style Cambodia as in French Indochine. And the word was that there was more French architecture intact there than most places. We stayed in La Villa, a restored French villa with 8 guest rooms, it was wonderful. It had the large rooms with high ceilings, old style metal ceiling fans, narrow stone walkways, steep stairs and they put us in an old dormer rooftop perch with a shared private balcony.

In the first minutes following the long busride from Phnom Penh, we met Mr. Mo, an English speaking tuktuk man who offered to take us around. He was very cheerful and youngish, we accepted and ended up spending three very nice days in his company.

The first day we visited a circus school for underprivileged kids (are any kids in this country 'privileged?'). We tuktuked out to a small country road and a few clicks down was a large outdoor complex of buildings. The Phare Ponleu Selpak school was created by refugees in camps on the Thai border during the Khmer Rouge period. These 10 or so folks envisioned a school for teaching music, dance, art and circus to Khmer children. They are supported by several French foundations and are regularly visited by teachers of circus arts and other disciplines.

We stopped first at the music class where an older man was teaching a group of 7 or so kids traditional Khmer classical music with the Areak Ka ensemble instruments. They were very welcoming and offered me a chance to try some of the instruments, which I made feeble attempts at to their polite enjoyment.

Next we came to a platform where a theatre class was going on with a teacher and several high school aged students. They had made masks and were being workshopped in some basic mask acting/movement techniques. Several of the male students were extraordinary physical comedians and I was really impressed. Eventually eyes turned on us for the exercise and I was grateful when Amee was the one chosen to participate by one of the boys. Her sweet and silly moves as a tiger were really delightful. We moved onto the circus hall where many kids were practicing juggling and acrobatics. I wished I were Sippy Doug, or that he was here so I would have something to share. They were doing great work.

The next day we returned for their public performance and art gallery show. The talent was overflowing in the circus tent behind the school. We became friendly with the English teacher and he agreed to meet us the next day for breakfast at our hotel and a Khmer language lesson for the three of us. We learned a nice bit of Khmer which has helped us a lot in the last days. I’m sure if we stayed for several months here we could eventually get this language which can sound like amphibian to the Western ear.

The next day we visited a rice paper commune where various neighboring families make the rice paper that you have eaten in fresh spring rolls. This was really special to watch, the smoldering stone oven stoked by the shirtless assistant using husks of rice, the ancient looking woman steady at her task, pouring the liquid rice, cooking the crepe sized sheets and flipping them onto the spools for drying. The whole scene had a kind of mysterious, ancient quality to it. They can produce 1000 of these per day but earn only about $6/day from them, though it is their own business.

We also went to some Angkor period temples in a beautiful countryside area about 30 clicks out of town, the ride was amazing with smiling kids waving hello from their old bikes on the dirt roads. We were ‘guided’ by some real cool cats from the neighborhood who took Bodhi under their wings and had a decent amount of English. We ended our stay and prepared for a downriver trip to Siem Reap via a small ferry boat.

Though Mr. Mo spoke very little during the three days, as he dropped us at the ferry boat to Siem Reap, his heart seemed to pour out: “I live in a very modest room with my wife’s family now, but when you return you can visit me in my own home and eat dinner with me and my family. You have my number, please remember me!”

The Zoo Story, Pt. 2, Feeding the Bears

We head to the zoo, late now, since the meal has become the main event. We pull up to a compound of thatched roofs with tables underneath. A gaggle of teenage kids come around the car at once. They seem to have a bit of urban savvy or cool I would say so I begin to jive with them. I offer one or two the “Obama Muslim Knuckle” handshake, they haven’t learned this one yet, but pick it up quickly. One wears a fedora hat and has a very unique chiseled face, like a sculpture. He almost seems like a character from an anime or something in a human form. They are all holding coconuts and some bananas. One of them speaks excellent English and offers to tour us in the zoo, helping describe or name animals we might not know. I like to help these kids who want to earn a few bucks by working, so we take him on. In doing so, all the other kids follow along as well. It’s a funny stumbling kind of walk for the group, we begin to see monkeys all around, and come to an enclosure with great still crocodiles lying around just beyond the fence.

There is good fun in the forest as Bodhi gets to throw banana chunks to the dexterous monkeys who make great catches and gobble them down. There is a free roaming mule deer, very large, who keeps knocking into us casually. We see a mongoose, a white squirrel and keep hearing from the gang about buying coconuts to feed the bears. Eventually we realize that the bears are in a separate locale, the tour boy rides with us in the car, the coco boys chase on bicycle. There is a real desperation happening now, it is almost closing time and they all want whatever money we can produce for these coconuts. I'm feeling the swarm feeling again but can't believe the scene when we get out of the car at the sun bear enclosure. One boy after another jumps over the first enclosure fence (an outer pen) and begins holding out a coconut and beckoning us to allow them to feed the bear - if we're committing to give them money. "How much?" I ask. 2000 riel, we are told, this is 50 cents. We just don't have a lot of riel with us, not even a lot of single bills. We pay for one, the boy tosses the coconut over the fence and this cartoon bear, with a cozy little face, a broad orange shield shaped spot on his chest and a tongue that must be 24" long, grabs one and drops his tongue into the hole that the boy has slashed with his machete. The next boy begins asking us to buy another coco. I'm scrambling for money to get this over with but can't find enough small bills, Bodhi senses their desparation and says "just give him a dollar". We can't even enjoy the bear feeding, its hot, gray and murky and the mood is completely sour and desparate. We buy a few more cocos, the boys begin just slashing their prices to get a few riel out of us and the 4 or so bears are all already feeding. I realize the boys themselves seem like zoo animals since their inside one fence. Jesus, what a scene.

We spend our last money and get in the car with "Lucky" the tour boy to go see the tigers.

The Zoo Story Pt.1, Lunch from Heaven

Photos by Amee Evans Godwin - more photos here!

We’ve chosen to go to the Zoo about one hour outside Phnom Penh and Ken will drive us. On the way we will ascend a 300 stair hill to Phnom Chisor, a pre-Angkor temple ruin with fantastic views over the countryside. Bodhi is in good form, hiking the stairs without complaint.

As we traverse the long dirt road from the main highway to the zoo, we spy elderly Khmer people pouring small buckets of water to keep the dust down for the tourists, then others are in begging pose just after them. I remark to Bodhi that this is a job here, pouring small bits of water on long dusty roads in hope of a few Riel from tourists speeding by.

We arrive at a crossroads in the jungle and are flagged down by a kindly looking middle-aged man on moto. We’re looking for some lunch and he is the most enthusiastic to invite us to his little restaurant.

This word is kind of a stretch, its actually just his family with a few burners, cooking pots and preparation and cleaning area under a tarp roof, at the end of a half kilometer of identical spots with other families. The sad truth here is that we are the only car of zoo visitors and it's Saturday afternoon so the prospects don’t seem too good for these businesses.


The family surround us and we begin choosing our meal by seeing the ingredients laid out uncooked. This would be impossible without Ken who is warmly taking into account our dietary needs and fears – for example there’s a giant bowl of small ‘field crabs’, they look spicy and like spiders, but must be crunched whole with the teeth, so we take a pass.

The family and their friends who show up to try and share other treats with us, are curious about Bodhi, so Ken let’s them know the score. There are various fruits offered, including palm fruit, a small milky white pod that is slit length wise, you cup it in your hand, and quickly sip the sweet water from the middle, scrape a bit of the fruit into your mouth and discard the husk. Bodhi, surprisingly, begins eating these and can’t seem to get enough. He’s been a bit skittish about non-restaurant food thus far.

Pictures here will speak louder, this is an incredible meal, one of the best in our lives and we are treated to Khmer country cuisine including broiled chicken stuffed with lemongrass and garlic and dipped in a pepper-lime sauce that is out of this world; a large riverfish with its own preparation and spicy green mango relish; sautéed morning glory with chili peppers; steamed rice; Angkor beer and appetizers of these small prepared rice squares, slightly sweet, but also salty, in thatched leaf packets – delicious. We consume it on a raised platform on one of those woven plastic mats.
Bodhi turns to us and says “I’ve lived and gone to heaven!” After the meal a young girl appears and offers to massage our backs. We are told she has Down’s syndrome, though you cannot tell from her appearance and she seems high functioning. The massage is excellent and she talks a rapid mellifluous babble to Ken, who is patient and amused. He tells us later that some of her words are transposed, such as instead of saying “I was going there” she might say “I there going was”, this is in Khmer so is not a language issue, but her condition.

Reunion with Elephant

Last night was our long awaited reunion with Elephant, the man who had driven for us when we adopted Bodhi. A ‘driver’ in this country is much much more. He is your translater, your guide, your maitre ‘d’, your fixer, your babysitter, your friend – if he’s a good one, and Elephant was the best. In the eight years we’ve been gone, he’s become a man of means. He and his family have moved on from the tiny one room shack on stilts, to a four-bedroom, three-bath house. He has been elevated to Colonel in the Cambodian Army, though he does not actually serve, there is a cot and uniform for him at the barracks. He has become Executive Director of a well-known charity that operates schools, orphanages and an HIV clinic for mothers. Elephant is a survivor of the Pol Pot regime, he was raised in refugee camps on the Thai border, he and his brother were separated from their family and forced to dig ditches in lieu of a normal childhood. He went on to become one of the top three ranked Khmer kick-boxing champions.

He is stronger and wiser than when we met him eight years ago, but with the same sense of humor and absurdity, the same zest for life and especially, the same constant clock ticking driving him to work 16-20 hours a day. He remembered us well enough and especially Bona. He commented on Bodhi's head rounding out (his head had a big flat spot as a baby from lying in the crib too much.) It was sweet to see them together and for Elephant to see what a great boy Bodhi has grown into. We had a drink or two and shared some food here at the hotel. We will see him again on Sunday at a dance performance at one of the orphanages.

First Sunset

We went for a sunset ride in a tuk-tuk. This is a motorscooter with a canopied buggy attached and can be had for about $6/hr. we went to the river and what began as exhilarating and glorious fairly quickly became a touch shocking and finally harrowing, but loaded too, with wonderous moments. When we reached the river, five minutes from the hotel, the driver pulled over amidst the beginning of an incredible sunset. We asked to walk and he, too, seemed to need a change, he got on his cell phone and a minute later another tuktuk pulled up. He explained that we would go with the new driver as he was quite busy this time of day. The new driver was very nice and had good English, so no problem, but we asked to walk a bit – he would shadow us. We passed a number of women selling large woven plasticy tapestries or floor coverings with various pictures such as the temples at Angkor or one with thanksgiving turkeys of all things. This gave way to egg and nut sellers and various cooked food sellers.

Now came the riverfront with several cages of birds. I began to film the birds which were doing an amazing random flight craze. The seller came up behind me to look at my movie. Amee explained that for $1 you can buy a bird and release it for a prayer. I bought one, he gave me two. The squiggling, warm, downy pulse was ticklish in my cupped hands, and I was happy to let it go pretty quickly. I prayed for this country and for Bodhi’s health.

We walked a bit more, a very sad beggar came up beside me and I wanted to give him a dollar. I fished around in my embarrassingly large wallet and peeled one of my few singles off for him. I had actually spent the last few days in CA getting singles in change for this purpose, but unfortunately had left them in the hotel. We kept going. The light became amazing and I asked Amee and Bodhi to stop for a picture. They stood by the river in rainbow salmon colored light. At this point there were a number of Khmer women in pairs on the stone wall over the river. A pair of them watched Bodhi as he tried to shake a coconut tree on the plaza. Their eyes went from his brown skin to our white skin and back and forth, they smiled, I smiled back. A boy of Bodhi’s age came up beside me. He was in rags more or less, a child of the streets, red pants ending in torn edges below the knee led to ashen dusty bare feet, I thought of Dickens. He grunted to me for money, he was badly in need and we had no more small bills. The desperation and that feeling of being swarmed overcame me and I think Bodhi felt it too. The sunset grew more and more amazing but a need for escape overtook us three.



On the plaza were hundreds of people doing some kind of line dance. I wanted to see what was up with it but Bodhi was tiring out. I believe it was that Zumba craze, with latin-tinged, techno-house music pumping from battery powered boom boxes and a white Aussie type of gal seeming to give instructions to the mostly Khmer group assembled.

We hailed another tuktuk and asked to be taken along the river. This driver had zero English but gave us a nice ride. A few blocks into the ride, Bodhi suddenly asked for a pen and began writing in his book. The ride became more difficult as the fumes from the evening traffic enveloped the carriage. Highlights: we passed the Sunway Hotel and Wat Phnom, the site of our adoption stay and many memories we have described to Bodhi over the years. We passed a new kid’s park with shiny play equipment and groovy neon across from the American Embassy. Big highlight - we spied a large monkey sitting nonchalantly on a concrete post around the edge of the park. We had to teach the driver how to find our hotel, with no language between us. Finally he stopped at another tuktuk stand and those drivers helped us home with directions.

Taipei Airport

It’s 11 am and we are on a small plane with 120 Khmer and some Chinese heading to Phnom Penh from Taipei. It is a bright mid-morning which feels like a neverending afternoon. We are served a very similar version of our breakfast which was consumed while flooding down into a very Oakland-like and foggy Taipei. Eggs or Chicken/Rice, this one is somehow more Spartan and less flavorful than the 5 am breakfast version. We are quiet, Bodhi is watching yet another repeat of Star Wars :The Clone Wars – his 4th viewing in 24 hours. Considering this is his favorite movie, it couldn’t be better for him. We feel saddened somehow that he is not just still and present awaiting his pilgrimage. That is the word he used, pilgrimage. We’ve filled out our tourist cards on the flight and put the reason for travel as “vacation” and he’s corrected us on this one, but we’ve left the cards as they are.



The world is huge and Cambodia is familiar. It seems ungodly to travel around this ball at such a speed for such a time. In 14 hours we were in Taiwan and there was, no difference, except more Chinese speaking English. This may sound harsh at first, but I mean that inside the airport there was: technology, noodles, crusty croissants and Bubble Milk Tea. There was also free wireless but our carry on had been force checked and my laptop power cable had gone with it – so for our layover while I hoped to blog, I was as always, thwarted by technology, having wasted the battery on the series opener of Battlestar Galactica on the flight.  

The Cambodian man across the aisle asks me if the boy is Cambodian. I tell him “yes.” He asks if he’s my son, I tell him “yes.” He is touched that we are bringing Bodhi to see his country and so are the other surrounding passengers, who are treated to some photos of Bodhi as a baby and present day in California. Most of the passengers are Cambodians who live in California, heading to their country for a yearly holiday.




We come down over the expansive, flat, corn-colored landscape. It reminds me somewhat of California and I ask Bodhi if he thinks so too. He says it looks like he thought it would. The airport is new. That is okay, last time we were here, we came down a rolling stairway and walked across the blasted tarmac. God, that word is cliché, tarmac, not blasted.

We come through passport control and the endless row of uniformed officials passed us along to the last three of the row and they take a long look at Bodhi and say: “Cambodian?” “Yes” we agree proudly, “But he’s a US citizen”, reminds Amee. Bodhi speaks to the American senior citizen couple behind us that he is coming home to see his country. And we leave the terminal.

A wave of heat coated with excellent nostalgia hits us as we are recognized by Ken holding a card with our name on it. We acknowledge him and meet around the corner and walk a few hundred feet to his racy Nissan SUV. He quickly turns off the hiphop radio blasting as we settle in. He is the driver for our friend Catherine MacNeql who on the board of Cambodia Tomorrow, a non-profit that has built a school for orphans outside Phnom Penh. Amee served on its board a year or two ago and Catherine has graciously put us in Ken’s care for our Phnom Penh stay. We get to know each other as we navigate a chaotic traffic pattern into the heart of town. We noticed a lot of new construction from the air and it seems that things are busy as can be for Phnom Penh. I remark that America is seeing business closures and lots of layoffs, but PP seems to be thriving in its impoverished status quo. Last I heard Cambodia is the 4th poorest country in the world, I’ll check on that, but its not like we’re in Bruges. And yet the street scene is loaded with businesses upon and tons of people busy at them.

Ken takes us to a used cell phone store so we can get hooked up, there is a guy scraping crusty cocaine-like buildup off of a tiny SIM chip for a customer looking on. We purchase the cheapest Nokia and get it readied for action, we will give it to Ken as a tip at the end of our stay.

We try and locate the hotel. We have an address but no phone number and Ken is a bit concerned. We know its about two blocks from the Palace and the river. What we don’t know is that the neighborhood is a Charlie-Fandango of one way streets, streets that actually change name every few houses, construction closures, concrete fallout from what looks like bombings (not possible), police manned barricades and always, always, always, motos (motorscooters of every kind) coming at you from every direction.




After what seems like an hour of this and a moment where we stare silently at a terribly sad family sitting in rubble like a vision from Baghdad, I suggest to Ken that we ask the police on the corner if our hotel is behind this barricade they man behind the Prime Minister’s residence. It is. We’re dropped off into a large, lush, private compound with fruit trees, red-rooofed haciendas, still outdoor pools and little raised pavilions with softy beds, mosquito nets and wireless internet, one of which I write you from just now.

We order a tuna melt for Bodhi and Salade Nicoise for us and are delighted by what I can only call “hamische” lunch – as if someone invited us into their kitchen and said “after 20 hours of flying, you folks look like you could use some home cooking!”.

Bodhi is still in the giant rectangular pool which is a perfect four feet deep throughout and likely will be for the next four days. I ask him how he likes his country so far and he replies in true California-speak – “sweeeeet!”

A beautiful book for your holidays, a great primer on our experience

I realize that we have a great resource to share and a great read for all of you.  Our friend Kari Grossman has written an amazing book about her adoption experience, Cambodian history, and the experience of returning to the country to do some amazing work.  She and her husband George built the Grady Grossman School in a remote area of Cambodia and have been operating it and building a local economy using renewable energy resources for the last few years.  

The book is entertaining, informative, exciting and just a great read for anyone. 

http://www.bonesthatfloat.com

Up and Adam

Its a rare day that I'm awake before Amee and usually its a good sign.  Got a few hours and awoke from a good dream with you on my mind.  Who would I invite to this blog?  How would I describe this undertaking?   I'm inviting you and everyone else should presume they are welcome.  I'm describing it like this: 

Eight years ago on July 4, 2000, we received a phone call from our adoption agency in Seattle saying that we had been approved to travel and pick up our son, Bodhi, then 4 months old in Cambodia at his orphanage.   We had been waiting since March 24, 2000 when he had received a picture of him at 5 days old and accepted the referral - beginning our family.   We travelled a few weeks later and spent a few weeks in country.  Perhaps on this trip I'll have a chance to recount some of that journey, but suffice it to say, it was incredible, deep and scented with lemongrass, coconut and baby formula.  

This trip will be a chance for Bodhi to get to know his country and his people and for Amee and I to return to a place we love and care about.  

One more night

We leave tomorrow night and nobody can sleep.  I just spent two hours downloading a ton of Dengue Fever and every podcast that comes up on search term 'Cambodia' in iTunes.  Okay, not every single one, but there are some groovy sounding ideas, like interviews with underground artists in Phnom Penh - this is giving me ideas beyond the "Devil's Handbook" (Lonely Planet Cambodia).    Spent the rest of today at Long's Drug buying alcohol based hand sanitizer, batteries and malaria medicine ($6/per pill for a total of 80 pills for the three of us).   I either gotta get into the battery business or pharmaceuticals, kid rock just doesn't pay those kind of bucks.  

The wistful thoughts of doing this right have been eclipsed by the freakout of just getting out of the house and onto the flight.  More soon. 

Getting Started

Hi Folks, 

We're heading to Cambodia next week so I figured its time to get some blogging going.  I'm feeling very excited and also a bit nervous.  We've been there twice before, but never when Bodhi was a fully grown kid.  Bodhi is now 8 and will be keeping his own blog but I'm sure to spend some time with descriptions, photos and finding my way through this  awesome encounter.