Scenes From a Floating Village, Cambodia
In transit.
I’m sitting here in a chilly, air-conditioned San Diego hotel room, thinking about home. I haven’t quite figured out how I’m going to get back there. In two days, I’m supposed to fly to Seattle out of Los Angeles. I have made exactly zero plans to get to Los Angeles in order to catch said flight. Changing my ticket to depart out of San Diego is, for the time being, prohibitively expensive.
Consequently, home feels very far away. And it will just have to remain so, I guess.
In the meantime, I find my thoughts wandering back to Asia. During that trip, home didn’t simply feel distant – it felt like another planet. Like no amount of flying would get me there. There were days when this bothered me, and days when I didn’t mind so much.
One hazy day, towards the end of our time in Cambodia, we visited a floating village. We passed by schools and stores, and yes, homes, bobbing up and down on the water. At that moment, more than any other, I missed Rand.
I wanted to dive into the water, and pull myself out on my doorstep.
Here are a dozen photos from that day. When home was half a world away, and I wished that only a short swim would get me there.
- Piggy-back ride in the river.
– - Neighbors.
– - Precarious laundry.
– - A study in orange.
– - Young captains.
– - Bright facade.
– - Like a yellow sun against the sky.
– - Field of lily pads.
– - Swimmers.
– - Home delivery.
– - Along main street.
– - Spotted by a local.
