It's wonderful to be home. Although, in some ways it feels like the travel hasn't stopped. 3 nights in SF, then 2 nights back in West Hartford, CT, now 2 nights in the Jersey then another on Long Island and then we're back on a plane to the west coast. However, come Monday all that ends and 'real life' starts again.

There's still so much to tell about our time in SE Asia, but for now here are some pictures for you to enjoy. Lu did an amazing job editing the pics down to our very best and each place we visited has its own little gallery. The 12 hours of video will be a lot tougher to edit, but I'm sure we've got at least an hour of worthy footage in there somewhere. I'm looking forward to the task of putting it all together. I just wonder how long it'll take!

I know that most people would never believe that someone could think of Bangkok as 'serene', but that is exactly what I felt while we cruised back into this town lounging in an air-conned taxi, directly to our hotel in the Silom/Patapong area of the city. It had been a rough and remarkable few days before that, and coming back to this city I knew and loved made me very happy indeed. The weapons of sound that the Vietnamese employed incessantly were blissfully absent in this very cool city we had come back to. I still cannot believe the cacophony we endured while we were in Saigon and the surrounding countryside.

On Phou Qouc Island in Vietnam we'd met some other Westerners and together had a hard time passing up the large 4$ bottles of rum. I think between the seven of us, we cruised through at least 5 of them. Lu didn't fare so well in the morning, and I was more of a rock than a human when it came to wakeup time. All trip we managed to get everywhere we needed on time without an alarm clock. On days we needed to be up before 9am we just left the curtains open and the sun provided all the impetus we needed to pull our eyelids open and then pull out the iPods to see what time it was. And, when it comes to waking up, I have a natural ability slip from sleep and check the time as dawn slowly brightens on the horizon. None of that worked after the debauchery of that last night in Phou Quoc, but the knock on the door a half an hour after we were supposed to leave was just soon enough to get us to the airport in time. I just slept on the short hop over to Ho(ly Sh*t) Chi Min (Motosaigon) City. Lu had a bit more difficult time, as she noted earlier.

The landing was smooth and we found a cab quick, but the ride into HCMC was absolutely mind boggling. I had never seen anything like it in the world. They use motobikes quite a lot in this region of the world, but nothing, and I mean nothing, compared to the flood of motorized-two-wheelers that raged through the streets of this large, southern, Vietnam city. There are millions of them on the roads, and it seemed like all of them were out there at all times of the day or night. Seven deep across the road, and six hundred back would wait at the light as we sat in our cab amazed at what gathered around us. Don't even try to imagine what it looks like when some of those bikes need to turn left across an equal flood of motorized madness. And don't even begin to guess the objects, foodstuffs, number of humans and crazed contraptions these people haul with their two-stroke engines. There should be rivers of blood and shattered cycles all over the streets, but somehow the Vietnamese have managed to commute every day without destroying one another at every intersection. And everything seems to get exactly where it needs to go, all on the seats of these Honda cycles. It's like competing flocks of birds flitting by each other with nary a feather ruffled. I still can't believe they manage to pull it off. Make no mistake, though. Vietnam suffers from a great deal of road accidents. But in the many, many miles we traveled on motobikes I never saw a single person get hurt while riding. And ride we did.

But first we had to find a guesthouse. Lu was still in recovery, so I was on recon. She took a seat at a cafe and watched the bags while I strolled the 'hood searching for the perfect room. As usual I checked at least six places, but it was the first one with the private balcony on the top floor that seemed the best choice. I got back to her, we gathered our bags, staggered up the street, checked in and chilled out. We splurged for air-con 'cause the city was muggy, haze-filled and hot enough to make me sweat just thinking about taking a stroll. But I liked where we had landed. The city and people had a drive and a passion that was missing in Cambodia. There was focus and intention. There was still plenty of people selling books or postcards, but one 'no thank you' was enough to send them on their way. The desolation-of-soul that plagued Cambodia was absent here. Only hours into HCMC (Saigon) and I was already enthralled. Lu slept. I found a balcony with a view to have a few beers, eat some food and read a bit. The madness of the motobikes below me stunned me into staring over and over again. I went back to my baby after a bit and forced her to drink some water and before long she was back on her feet and ready to go. Our first order of business was finding some tailors to make us some clothes.

Back in Phnom Penh we debated on the path to take. Since our original Vietnam visa had run out while we lazed the days away on Don Det, we could either pay for another one, or say screw it and just hit the islands in Thailand that we missed on our first pass through. Since the easy way is not our style we opted for new horizons and Vietnam was our choice. Two deciding factors were that we wanted to get clothes made (suits for me, dresses/skirts for her) and we wanted to see the Mekong Delta. After checking a few places on our street and then searching around the rest of the city the next morning we found 2 places close by that had the styles and fabric we wanted. First thing the next day I got fitted for my suits and Lu went off to her place to pick out exactly what she wanted. After that it was time to figure out how we were going to get to the Mekong Delta. We didn't want a packaged tour where the guides have everything but cattle prods to move the herd from bus to candyfactory to canal ride to lunch and then back to the packed bus to drive us home. No way. Not our style at all. We wanted to go authentic and deep risk our lives one more time, and so a motobike ride to Cantho was the method we selected. It's amazing how good a choice sounds at the outset and how bad it can turn out in the end. But before we left for the Mekong, we had a few things to see in the city itself.

Vietnam has been a battleground for thousands of years. The long coastline and the rich, fertile Mekong Delta made it a coveted prize for a variety of cultures. The Siamese, the Chinese, the ancient kingdom of Angkor all wanted a piece of this thin crescent of land. But the people of Vietnam are fierce. Every sale is a battle of wills, haggling to the last moment when we finally walk away and they chase us down to offer us just a little bit more than we said we could pay. And that fierceness is no more evident than the in the horrors that occurred during the Vietnam War. And those horrors were laid bare to us when we visited the Cu Chi Tunnels just outside the city, and then later that day at the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Min City. The museum clearly has a perspective, and that perspective is obviously pro-North Vietnam. All the images, all the stories, all the information within the museum shows how the Vietnamese managed to vanquish the terrible Americans and their traitors allies in South Vietnam. But, as they say, history is written by the victors, and Ho Chi Min and his Communist Comrades were clearly the winners of that long, terrible battle. What was done to the Viet Cong and their villager allies was truly terrible. It made us sick to see the effects of Agent Orange and Napalm on both immediate victims and their offspring. But not once did the museum mention any of the terrible things the North Vietnamese did to their American captives. After seeing firsthand how Cambodia still suffers, and seeing in fine detail the horrors of the Vietnam War it is clear to me that the true battles of this world is not between cultures or governments or armies, but between the people and corporations that Want War vs. those of us that only Want Peace. And because the former will kill anyone and anything to further their goals, we who Want Peace are always the first and worst to suffer. Suffice to say, that day in HCMC (formerly Saigon, before it was 'liberated') was a tough one for Lu and I. It was a bad a day in Vietnam as it was when we viewed the terrible deeds of the Khmer Rouge while in Cambodia. But the next day we were leaving for the Mekong, and both of us were thrilled to be getting on the road to see a bit more of this city than the touristry street where we had settled down.

There were charms to the street. We found a beer hoi and made some friends. Our room was nice. We were thrilled with the tailors we had picked when we went back for our first fitting. And when we woke up on the third day and got onto the backs of the motobikes with one little bag each and some really cool drivers, we were psyched to be getting out of town to see the massive Mekong River end it's long journey south--a watery journey that the two of us had followed for hundreds of miles. I had no idea what was in store for me, though. There was no way it could happen again, but it did. It did. And dealing with it was the toughest thing I've done. Ever. I thought Burning Man was the hardest thing I could do to myself. Then the Gibbon Experience put BM to shame simply out of pure danger-of-death. (At Burning Man you can get hurt but still get to a great hospital before things turn truly serious. At the Gibbon Exp., help was days away, and your only recourse was young (16 yrs old) guides and the people you were there with. And even then, the last thing you wanted to end up at was a hospital in Laos. You had to get to Bangkok for true medical help.) Coming out of the Delta, I went through hell. But before all that, it was friggin great.

2 hour ride to Mytho. There we rode a small boat though tiny canals canopied by huge banana-tree leaves and huge groves of bamboo. The haggling in Vietnam is intense and it took a while to hire the boat. But the ride was excellent, amazing, gorgeous and relaxing. The 1kg fish we had for lunch was delicious and the weather, although warm, was clear and breezy and beautiful. From there we pushed on another 2 hours to Cantho where we planned to wake up early and check out the floating market. In most towns they have a local produce market that bustles like mad every morning and throughout the day. In the delta, farmers put their wares on boats and float downstream to where the river widens and everyone gathers to sell and barter. Boats put up poles with examples of their produce attached to it and smaller boats cruise by buying what they need for their families, restaurants and shops. Boats dedicated to gourds. Others committed to mangoes. Some sell drinks, others sell vegetables, all at seven am in the morning Lu and I were on a small boat cruising up and down the river checking it all out.

The only problem was that I was sick. For the third time this trip, I had food poisoning. The night before we went to a beer hoi with our guides and had a few liters of home-brewed beer. It's weak stuff, but cheap and it's really quite tasty. Sweeter than the stuff in bottles and fun to drink something so fresh. And all of you know that beer is my nectar and never gives me a problem the next day. Lu got some fried rice and veggies for dinner that night, but I wasn't that hungry. Instead I just picked up a baguette sandwich from a street vendor. It was my go-to meal, and one I'd had many, many times this trip. Usually it's chicken, cheese, cucumbers, tomatoes some carrot/cabbage 'salad' with a little mayonnaise (yup). But this place didn't have chicken so it was just cucumber, 'salad' and cheese. It was just enough to fill me up and I went bed happy and ready to wake up early for the floating market fun. Instead I woke up at 3:30 am with a gurgling in my stomach. It was a gurgling I knew well. I felt it first in Ayuthaya, Thailand after eating some bad shrimp or something. That I dealt with fairly readily. The next was in Siem Reap when I ate some pumpkin soup with undercooked fish. That ruined me and I was sick for 24 hours until the antibiotics kicked in. This time it was worse than either time before. By floating-market-go-time at 6am, I knew I was in serious trouble. Again I hit the antibiotics, but they take a while to take effect and time was something we didn't have. I rallied, I rode the boat and checked out the amazing floating market with Lu for 2 hours on that rollicking boat, but inside I was a mess. The problem was, our time here in this part of the world was running out, and we had places to go and things to do. We could not stay in Cantho for a day to let the meds take effect and let me get well. We had booked these 2 motodrivers and we were 5 hours (at least) away from HCMC where the rest of our bags where, and where we had to leave from to get back to Bangkok. And there were only days left on our trip here in SE Asia.

I had food poisoning and the only thing I should have been doing was laying in bed, drinking salty water, retiring to the bathroom at regular intervals, sleeping and watching TV. But it was not to be. They had to get back to the city and so did we. So, nauseous, miserable, weak and angry, I mounted that bike behind the driver and the road we did hit. Hard. I couldn't even hydrate the way I needed to because a bellyfull of water while we rumbled down the road for hours at a time would have made me ill over and over again. The only thing that would have been worse than riding that motobike that day, feeling the way I did, would have been to ride a rollercoaster for five hours straight. But ride it we did. I was so weak and dehydrated there were times I wasn't sure I could hold on, and I made them stop and pull over many, many times to work out the poison that was finishing its ride through my insides. The antibotics were already taking effect, but once that e.coli or salmonella is doing its thing, there's not a whole lot you can do but let it get through. At times I thought I was going to have to bail out completely and just take a bus home the rest of the way 'cause at least then I wouldn't have to hold on, and I could just sleep, but that would have added hours, if not a whole other day, onto the trip home. And by then I was ready-more than ready-to get the hell out of Vietnam and go back to Bangkok where I knew I could get delicious Thai food, and enjoy the many delights of this awesome city. We made it back and I was quivering as I stumbled up the stairs to our balconied room. I spent almost the entire next full day in bed as Lu went around making final arrangements and providing me with the water and food and everything I needed to heal fast and true. (yes my wife is the best... sorry to all you other wives out there. I'm sure you're great, too, but seriously... Lu, Lani, love of my life... she is everything to me.) I went out to book our plane tickets and to pick up the final versions of the clothes I had made. But I could not handle HCMC any more. They city was driving me insane with the incredible amount of noise those motobikes emanated every time they moved a meter down the street and I was ready, oh so ready, to get on the plane, and get back to Bangkok.

I felt better the next morning. I felt great the next night. We flew the next morning and when we landed in Bangkok and rode that cab to our final hotel of this trip, I could not believe that this city that I had thought was absolutely nutz was actually far more civilized and serene than any other one I had been to weeks. The difference was the beeping. In HCMC, in Laos, in Cambodia, the bus drivers and cab drivers and most of all the motodrivers, they use their horn as a weapon to prevent imminent death. Beeping, beeping, beeping all the time. At everything. At cows. At kids on the side of the road. At motos coming the other way. At trash in the roads and birds overhead and, apparently, at the ghosts of motodrivers long gone that only they can see... they beep. And beep. And beep. And beep. beeepbeeepbeepbeeeepbepbepebeeeeeeeeeep! By the end of the 5 hour drive back from Cantho in the Mekong Delta I thought my mind would explode if I heard another motobike beep.

Now here in Bangkok, there is no beeping. People drive like normal people. They signal and change lanes and then drive on until there's a light and where they stop until it turns green and then they drive on down the street some more and no one behind them or in front of them or to the side beeps at them at all, and it is glorious.

Yes, Bangkok is wild, big, crazy, insane city, just like all the big cities of the world. The Patpong district just outside is ludicrous with guys holding out menus of all the things the women inside the go-go bars can do with their private parts. And they want our money and they overcharge us for everything. But here, back in Bangkok one last time, I find this city to be wonderful and fun and remarkable and cool. We will come back here some day and I look forward to that for sure. But more than anything right now, I cannot wait get back to the best city I have ever been to, and see my friends again, and pet my kitties, and drink some true beers and be able to read every sign around me and sit down with the NYTimes on a Sunday morning on my own couch after Lu and I finish making our own delicious breakfast and in between the articles and the sound of the fog rolling in, get to really think about everything we have seen and done, and wonder how, in fact, we managed to pull it all off all the way out here where everything is just that much different, and every single f*cking day is another adventure.

But we've still got one adventure left. One more night in Bangkok. We both know how lucky we are to get to do this and neither of us will ever forget this incredible adventure we have been on. The only thing I wonder now is the many ways it has enriched and changed the both of us.

The Bangkok night awaits, and the flight beyond that. One more time together. One more time, tonight.

We needed a drastic change from the pace of life that was Phnom Penh. The orphanage was important but emotionally draining. The water festival was fun, but we'd just had enough. It was time to get back to the beach. It had been awhile and we just needed a little chill out time. Don Det had been paradise, but we were craving ocean. Floating in the clear green-blue waters of the gulf of Thailand was the perfect next step. So we said goodbye to Cambodia and made our way to Vietnam. Our visa had run out before we had even entered the country (we just spent so much extra time everywhere else!) While in PP we had to get new visas - and because we only had 2 weeks left, we debated whether it was even worth it. We could just head to Thailand and hit an island we hadn't been to but heard so much about - Ko Phag non. Or we could mix it up, go to Vietnam and head to an unknown island - Phu Quoc - and then check out a bit of the Mekong Delta.

We decided we were up for the challenge and booked our trip to Phu Quoc the next day. We had to take a bus and a few boats to get to a town called Chau Doc. Getting through the Vietnam border was a piece of cake. Of course with all the methods of travel, we didn't arrive in Chau Doc until late afternoon. The ride down the Mekong was awesome, we had missed it and were thrilled to be back. We've been travelling the Mekong since Thailand, and it really changes a bit with every country. The landscape is different, the homes, boats, people - everything. I really enjoyed this ride in a new country.

We had a great little stay in Chau Doc. We took a moto ride (each on our own with a driver) up to Sam Mountain and had amazing views of the rice paddy's, Cambodian border and the town below. We made it just barely for sunset. While up there we met a really nice Vietnamese man who spoke English really well. He invited us to go with him to a bia hoi - a beer establishment that sells cheap fresh beer. Every bia hoi has their own freshly made beer, and its very light and very cheap. While at this bia hoi, we also tasted their own banana rice wine. It was pretty good actually and we all did many shots of these through the course of the evening. Our new friend Koi also showed us the delicious meat they had in their cooler- yes, bat, rat and other Vietnamese delicacies. Yeah, we passed on those for sure. It was so gross, yet I did take some pictures of them. yuck! Koi was nice enough to have some tofu fried up for us which was awesome!

So the next morning, we got on a local bus to Rach Gia where we were to take the ferry to the island of Phu Quoc. This bus ride was classic Vietnamese (our first real one) in which a guy was yelling at everyone (no clue) with many people getting on and just squishing themselves in to every available spot. The only other westerners on the bus was a very nice couple from Germany - immediately we banded together and got ourselves some lunch and to the ferry. It was a beautiful ride, (except for the blasting TVs over our heads). I am not sure what it is about SE Asia and loud TVs and music, but its been on every trip so far!

We landed and were immediately taken by moto to the guesthouse we chose. The ride to our guesthouse was down the most gorgeous beach and was like 45 min away. It was perfect! We had a beautiful bungalow on the beach for $9! It was the nicest one yet. We got there to witness our first Phu Quoc sunset (the sun drops into the haze kinda like SF and the fog) which was nice but not spectacular. Don't get me wrong, the sun was incredible as it went down over the ocean, but somehow we just didn't get the crazy colors we've gotten everywhere else. We were on such a pretty little beach with very few other people so I really can't complain. This was it, just what we needed. We spent the next 4 days relaxing, reading, swimming, snorkeling, fishing, exploring, eating, drinking - all our favorite activities.

We spent a day hanging at our beach, then walking up the beach to the end to find the town and discovered a little fair. We spent a day on a boat fishing and snorkeling with 2 other couples (German and English). That was really fun. Spent a day on a moto exploring the island - fun, but not as relaxing as we wanted. Did find a private beach which was really nice. I was fun to ride around, but its a big island and not very touristy yet, which made getting food very difficult! There is really only one little section of the island with guesthouses and hotels, otherwise, its just a few small villages. Most of the island is blocked off by military protecting it from Cambodia. Its on the border and used to be Cambodian so there has been much conflict in the past over who owns this island.

That night we hung out with some people we met at the guesthouse and one girl we met on our boat ride to Chau Doc. The German couple we met on the snorkeling trip also joined us and we had a fabulous meal with loads of Vietnamese Rum being consumed. Needless to say, I had my first horrible hangover of the trip. It was terrible! We had to leave that next morning at 6:15 am to make a flight to Ho Chi Min City. We overslept and barely made it! And yes, I admit, I used the barf bag on our 1 hour flight. No, I am not proud of myself.

Anyway, so now here we are in the craziness that is HCMC (Saigon). It is loud, busy, bustling, friendly and totally fun. You just wouldn't believe the motoscooters riding around here - thousands of them and basically no rules. Walking across the street is like playing frogger. For real! We are getting good at it. We are enjoying it here, but of course, having only a week left, we are rushing our way through this last part. We can't make it to Hoi An (tailor capital of Vietnam) so we got some clothes made this morning here. That took about 3 hours!!! We can't wait to see how they turned out. Tomorrow we're off to the Cu Chi tunnels and then the next few days down to the Delta. Then sad to say, we're off to Bangkok and then home. But I am going to make sure to savor this next week. Every single second of it.

Now to go meet up with Chris at the bia hoi across the street. Tam Biet!

Cambodia has been both amazing and difficult. It's really, really dirty here. Like gross dirty all over the place. Trash everywhere. And the homeless/begging/maimed kids/adults situation is just soul-crushing. This country is just completely f*cked up in way that neither Thailand or Laos was. Thailand was fine, really, despite the insanity of Bangkok and the coup. The social fabric there is whole and complete. There's very little homelessness 'cause everyone has their whole family living all right around them (in a tiny little house or apartment or whatever). Like Cambodia, Laos got hurt by the Vietnam war, but nothing like the Khmer Rouge happened there.

Pol Pot and his comrades were evil. There's no other way to look at it. We went to the Touleng San prison yesterday, and then after that Choeung Ek (the Killing Fields) and it was just horrifying. All I could keep saying was "what the f*ck is wrong with people?" They killed 2 million people in this country. They emptied the city of Phnom Penh (the city we are in right now) for 3+ years. They abolished currency, private property, freedom to move around, families, love, everything. All in an effort to create the perfect Communist society where work and the country and the leader are the only things that matter. And in the end, the evilness of their intentions turned inward and divisive. They imprisoned, tortured and killed their one-time comrades out of suspicion and fear.

By the end of yesterday, I hated this place. I hated it. I wanted to go back to Laos or Thailand, or get the hell out and head to Vietnam. Whatever it was to get away from the heart-wrenching homeless kids, the garbage, the burned out buildings still haunting the edges of neighborhoods, I just needed out. We sat on the river's edge as the boat-teams practiced and I just couldn't even think after what we had seen yesterday. After the prison and the Killing Fields, we went to the Royal Palace and the Silver Pagoda. I couldn't handle it. The floor of the Silver Pagoda is loads of pure silver. There's a Buddha statue in there that's life-sized and pure gold. There are countless priceless objects within the the compounds of the Royal Palace and yet just outside the walls is utter poverty. I'm not sure the Buddha would have wanted his likeness recreated in pure gold. That just doesn't seem his style to me. Priceless objects, destitute children, the pure evilness of the Khmer Rouge and trash trash trash everywhere as we sat by the river as the evening gathered and all the people of Phnom Penh motobiked and pedicabbed in towards the banks for their evening stroll and chill and meal, I just felt crushed by the day and the clamor around me. "I just need to get the f*ck out of here," I said to Lu. I meant there and the city and the country and everything. I felt like we were dancing on graves. That we were paying money to a guesthouse to party down in Phnom Pehn while around us the actual world was in tatters.

The social fabric is torn asunder here. Families have been destroyed on vast scale. The government is either overwhelmed or uncaring but probably a little bit of both, and the results are just awful. I was really ready to leave the very next day (today). But we sat up there with a beer and we talked about what we had seen and how it made us feel and I was just so mad and so sad and so empty, I just had to talk it out and just cry a little bit. Then we moved over to the wide, high railing overlooking the street and river, and we watched an insane flow of families on motorbikes ride by. Lu witnessed the elusive six-on-a-motobike and I'm pissed I didn't see it. We watched the teams out in the boats paddle hard in practice for the big days coming up. We talked to the guy running the cafe and guesthouse and he said the Water Festival was going to be big. We'd heard that 2 million people come to Phnom Penh for the coming 3 days of boat races and festival, but the scope of it still hadn't sunk in. Watching the massive torrent of humanity flow beneath us, right beside the river's bank, we realized what was actually about to happen. Just moments before I was ready to skip town asap and then the next I was suggesting that we should stay for another 2.

"We can't leave without seeing the boat-races," Lu insisted even though I had already agreed (proposed, really) the idea.

"Exactly,"I agreed

"And that means we can go to the orphanage," Lu continued.

"Ummm, ahhh, well..."I replied uncertainly. After what I had seen and the way I was feeling about Cambodia, I wasn't sure an orphanage was exactly what I needed.

But it was, of course. We were staying another 2 days, we were going to see the boat races, going to visit some kids at an orphanage and we were getting a new Vietnam visa and some boat tickets for Sunday for when it was time to move on. Our old Vietnam visa we got in Bangkok ages ago before we changed everything about our trip, again. And that expires tomorrow. We also changed rooms. Went ahead and splurged an extra $4 per night for the $10 room with AC and a TV and a lot more space.

The orphanage was amazing. It felt wonderful to bring 6 bags of rice to them, but it was a little tough to withstand the repeated requests for more, more, more. 2 more bags of rice. 2 punching bags for the boxing team. $5 for a new light fixture. Money for medicine, for teachers, for extra english classes. I don't blame them! They see 2 Americans that roll up with 6 bags of rice and obviously they think we're loaded. And compared to them I guess we are. But you can only do so much, and we really felt like we did exactly what we could. The tuk-tuk driver that works at this guest house and brought us there helps out at the orphanage. He told us to buy rice and not to just hand over cash because the rice will definitely go to help the kids, and cash might not make it all the way to their bellies or benefit.

After picking up our visas and getting lunch we took a motobike to the docks and took an hour sunset cruise on the Tonle Sap and the Mekong River. Tomorrow those waters will be filled with long, skinny boats and many, many people paddling hard to win the races. Each boat has at least 40 paddlers, if not more. Over 3 hundred teams from all over the Cambodian countryside are entered and the electricity in the city is palpable. Everyone is gearing up for the fun. Today, after the boat cruise we walked along the riverbank playing carnival games and fending off the begging children and one person that we talked to said the next three days were the biggest party in Cambodia. How could we not stay!?

I'm still conflicted about this country, though. It's really, really tough to walk around these streets, and the streets of Siem Reap. The cracks are huge in this society, because of Khmer Rouge, and generations have fallen through, landing hard on these dirty, pot-holed streets. Angkor was stunning. Powerful and beautiful and eerie and fun. The people here are really nice. But the karaoke bus rides with incessant beeping are deeply annoying. The children are adorable, but you have to tell them seven times, No, thank you. It also doesn't help that I had a meal in Siem Reap that ripped my insides out. And I got a headcold the very same night. Being sick in Cambodia is no fun at all. (more on that another time:-) We brought antibiotics with us, so I jumped on them fast, but the food poisoning or whatever it was, did cause me to miss a whole day of temples while in Siem Reap. I'm healed now, though, and the headcold is going away fast, and tomorrow morning we are getting up and out to eat breakfast on a riverside balcony and stake out our spots for the madness of Bon Om Tuk (the Water Festival) that will unfold, all day, before us. It feels strange to party in this city full of ghosts and sadness. But I suppose by celebrating life and water and renewal and fun it is one way to appease those lost, tortured souls and give the beautiful little beggar-kids a day to shout and leap and run and laugh. We're sticking around for the races, but I'll never forget the utter horror of the day we spent inside S-21 and the cold, hollow pits of graves unearthed.

Tomorrow we watch the boatraces, then on Sunday we get up early to take a slow boat to Vietnam. We've followed the Mekong so far we simply have to see it to the end, where it spreads into a delta and then flows into the South China Sea.

We should have been coming home tomorrow. Instead we're forging on, and we cannot wait to see what's next. It's truly hard to believe all the things we have seen, and all the places we have been.

Lu and I are about to go over to an orphanage in Phnom Pehn, and we are stopping at the market to buy rice to donate.

One bag of rice is $30, and that will feed the hundred or so kids for one day.

If you would like to help buy some bags of rice, please send a paypal to chrisgallagher at gmail.com, or send an email with the amount you would like to spend. We will be here for the next 2 days, so if this is something you would like to do, act now!!

Thanks!