Temperature: 33 Degrees Celsius
Track of the day: "Let it be," The Beatles
"I really love this market," Alecs says to me as we wander around the Russian Mar
ket for a second time. We all agreed to return here to not only buy some souvenirs to take home but also to get some gifts to bring to Phanit's mother who is cooking us lunch this afternoon. Mom and I head out to a flower shop and choose a lovely bouquet of flowers and then she and dad continue to a little market and choose a huge variety of fresh fruits. We become something of spectacle as locals stop by to help us choose our fruits, translate for us and find the perfect basket to put it all in. When we are finally done we have a magnificent looking fruit basket filled with watermelon, dragon fruit, mango's, banana's, grapes and much much more. We pile ourselves back into the tuk-tuks and head out of the city. "Um, isn't that your sandal?" Alecs asks Sam as the three of us sit in the back of a tu
k-tuk heading to Phanit's family home. Moments ago we were plotting along a dirt road in rural Cambodia when Sam dropped his sandal out of the side of the tuk tuk. Both Alecs and Sam have been just staring blankly at each other for the past 15 seconds as we move further and further away. "Ya, I should probably go back and get it eh?" Sam replies and they both shout to our driver to stop. As Sam hobbles along the gravel road to find his lost sandal while Alecs explains what happened I can't help but laugh. Mom, Dad and Phanit are far ahead but luckily our driver knows Phanit and where he lives so we arrive shorty thereafter 
with all our footwear. Phanit's Mother and Father come out to greet us, two lovely frail old Cambodians who have created a feast for us. Their simple wooden home is on stilts, while the kitchen and eating are below the living area on the dirt ground. Beautiful blooming trees enclose the house from the rural road in front and behind the house are endless fields of rice. A mom and her three tiny puppies come waddling over to us after being scolded for barking and I can't resist but to cuddle with the flee infested pups. Phanit scales a tall palm tree and cuts down enough coconuts for each one of us. "I don't think we will ever get a more fresh coconut than this," Mom says as we all watch in awe as Phanit's frail old mother hacks open the coconuts in a matter of two swipes with her knife. As we sit at the wooden table sipping our fresh coconut milk Alecs and I can't help but think how lucky we are. Dish after dish of delicious looking food is piled in front of us and we happily dig in. Phanit's mom ensures there is never a moment when our plates are empty and spends the better part of an hour cutting fruits and feeding us until finally we can't fit an ounce more food in our bodies. "That duck stew was really good," I say to Alecs after all is said and done, "I really liked that beef dish,
" he adds rubbing his belly. Phanit offers to show us around the rice fields that his family works in behind the house. The community shares the responsibilities of cultivating the rice behind their homes by rotating days. There is no cover from the sun out here in these fields, with few trees in sight we are all sweating within moments. A number of men and women stand in the middle of the open fields completely covered head to toe as protection from the harsh sun. Phanit clambers from the path into one of the field
s to bring us a few stalks of rice and we get a quick lesson in rice cultivation. We stop to say hello to one of the men working hard in the field and mom gives him her bottle of water as he clearly needs it more than any of us. All this hard work earns the family roughly $10-$12/month, a salary that barely pays for food. We continue on to find a man and women wading through a murky pond in search of fish. After spending roughly 30 minutes walking around the rice fields we head back to Phanit's family home where Sam and Dad find a vendor selling sugar cane juice. Just as we are packing up and thanking our gracious hosts, Phanit's sister arrives home from work and we all get acquainted, have a drink and then sadly bid them farewell. Alecs, Sam and I sit in silence for the majority of the trip back to the hotel deep in thought about today's experience. It is our last day here in Phnom Penh and although Alecs and I are eager to see our friend in Siem Reap we are sad to say goodbye to new friends here. With one last glance over my shoulder we pass through the heavy wooden doors of the hotel and head to our rooms. "How about this place," I suggest, reading from a 'dining in Phnom Penh' brochure later that eveni
ng . "Ya, let's just go there," Mom says reading the good description of a place called 'Sharky's'. Our old drivers from the first couple days here meet us outside the hotel and we ask them to take us to Sharky's. "Sharky's?" our driver repeats, "you want to go to Sharky's?". We nodd our heads and point to the word Sharky's in our brochure. "Is this it?" I say to Alecs and Sam as we hop out of our tuk-tuk's. Waving our drivers goodbye we look up and down the dusty side street that seems a little too far from the normal hustle and bustle of Phnom Penh. Sceptically we climb up the rickety 
old stairs to a smoke filled bar and quickly find a table as we begin to feel more and more out of place. "I don't think this is exactly a family place," Alecs says as we all scan the crowd. "I think you're right," Dad adds and we all nod our heads in agreement. A number of scantily clad Khmer women sit at the bar while several others dangle off male tourists who have clearly come to Cambodia for something quite different than the five of us. "Let's just order a beer and go somewhere else for dinner," Mom suggests and in a matter of minutes we have paid the tab and are walking towards the main strip. "No wonder our driver looked at us a little weird," I say aloud as we all laugh and discuss the dark side of tourism. Sex tourism in Cambodia has been a problem for years and is an ever growing concern. The child sex-trade is ever prevalent in Cambodia, as in many other Asian Nations, but it seems the government is continuing to turn a blind eye. We don't have to walk far to find a much nicer looking place for our last dinner in the capital. Reminiscing under the night sky we all discuss the trip so far and our respective love for this country, despite it's many flaws.
ket for a second time. We all agreed to return here to not only buy some souvenirs to take home but also to get some gifts to bring to Phanit's mother who is cooking us lunch this afternoon. Mom and I head out to a flower shop and choose a lovely bouquet of flowers and then she and dad continue to a little market and choose a huge variety of fresh fruits. We become something of spectacle as locals stop by to help us choose our fruits, translate for us and find the perfect basket to put it all in. When we are finally done we have a magnificent looking fruit basket filled with watermelon, dragon fruit, mango's, banana's, grapes and much much more. We pile ourselves back into the tuk-tuks and head out of the city. "Um, isn't that your sandal?" Alecs asks Sam as the three of us sit in the back of a tu
k-tuk heading to Phanit's family home. Moments ago we were plotting along a dirt road in rural Cambodia when Sam dropped his sandal out of the side of the tuk tuk. Both Alecs and Sam have been just staring blankly at each other for the past 15 seconds as we move further and further away. "Ya, I should probably go back and get it eh?" Sam replies and they both shout to our driver to stop. As Sam hobbles along the gravel road to find his lost sandal while Alecs explains what happened I can't help but laugh. Mom, Dad and Phanit are far ahead but luckily our driver knows Phanit and where he lives so we arrive shorty thereafter 
with all our footwear. Phanit's Mother and Father come out to greet us, two lovely frail old Cambodians who have created a feast for us. Their simple wooden home is on stilts, while the kitchen and eating are below the living area on the dirt ground. Beautiful blooming trees enclose the house from the rural road in front and behind the house are endless fields of rice. A mom and her three tiny puppies come waddling over to us after being scolded for barking and I can't resist but to cuddle with the flee infested pups. Phanit scales a tall palm tree and cuts down enough coconuts for each one of us. "I don't think we will ever get a more fresh coconut than this," Mom says as we all watch in awe as Phanit's frail old mother hacks open the coconuts in a matter of two swipes with her knife. As we sit at the wooden table sipping our fresh coconut milk Alecs and I can't help but think how lucky we are. Dish after dish of delicious looking food is piled in front of us and we happily dig in. Phanit's mom ensures there is never a moment when our plates are empty and spends the better part of an hour cutting fruits and feeding us until finally we can't fit an ounce more food in our bodies. "That duck stew was really good," I say to Alecs after all is said and done, "I really liked that beef dish,
" he adds rubbing his belly. Phanit offers to show us around the rice fields that his family works in behind the house. The community shares the responsibilities of cultivating the rice behind their homes by rotating days. There is no cover from the sun out here in these fields, with few trees in sight we are all sweating within moments. A number of men and women stand in the middle of the open fields completely covered head to toe as protection from the harsh sun. Phanit clambers from the path into one of the field
s to bring us a few stalks of rice and we get a quick lesson in rice cultivation. We stop to say hello to one of the men working hard in the field and mom gives him her bottle of water as he clearly needs it more than any of us. All this hard work earns the family roughly $10-$12/month, a salary that barely pays for food. We continue on to find a man and women wading through a murky pond in search of fish. After spending roughly 30 minutes walking around the rice fields we head back to Phanit's family home where Sam and Dad find a vendor selling sugar cane juice. Just as we are packing up and thanking our gracious hosts, Phanit's sister arrives home from work and we all get acquainted, have a drink and then sadly bid them farewell. Alecs, Sam and I sit in silence for the majority of the trip back to the hotel deep in thought about today's experience. It is our last day here in Phnom Penh and although Alecs and I are eager to see our friend in Siem Reap we are sad to say goodbye to new friends here. With one last glance over my shoulder we pass through the heavy wooden doors of the hotel and head to our rooms. "How about this place," I suggest, reading from a 'dining in Phnom Penh' brochure later that eveni
ng . "Ya, let's just go there," Mom says reading the good description of a place called 'Sharky's'. Our old drivers from the first couple days here meet us outside the hotel and we ask them to take us to Sharky's. "Sharky's?" our driver repeats, "you want to go to Sharky's?". We nodd our heads and point to the word Sharky's in our brochure. "Is this it?" I say to Alecs and Sam as we hop out of our tuk-tuk's. Waving our drivers goodbye we look up and down the dusty side street that seems a little too far from the normal hustle and bustle of Phnom Penh. Sceptically we climb up the rickety 
old stairs to a smoke filled bar and quickly find a table as we begin to feel more and more out of place. "I don't think this is exactly a family place," Alecs says as we all scan the crowd. "I think you're right," Dad adds and we all nod our heads in agreement. A number of scantily clad Khmer women sit at the bar while several others dangle off male tourists who have clearly come to Cambodia for something quite different than the five of us. "Let's just order a beer and go somewhere else for dinner," Mom suggests and in a matter of minutes we have paid the tab and are walking towards the main strip. "No wonder our driver looked at us a little weird," I say aloud as we all laugh and discuss the dark side of tourism. Sex tourism in Cambodia has been a problem for years and is an ever growing concern. The child sex-trade is ever prevalent in Cambodia, as in many other Asian Nations, but it seems the government is continuing to turn a blind eye. We don't have to walk far to find a much nicer looking place for our last dinner in the capital. Reminiscing under the night sky we all discuss the trip so far and our respective love for this country, despite it's many flaws.
We arrive back at the entrance to Sharky's to meet our driver's fashionably late so they can see we didn't end up eating there. When we left Phanit's family home earlier that day his parents sent us off with a bunch of banana's, and by a bunch of banana's I mean they literally hacked of a branch of banana's for us. Dad asks one of our drivers if he would like them as we cannot possibly carry these all the way to Siem Reap and he happily obliges. We hurry off to our hotel room and carry the banana's out past the guards. "Did you cut those down from the banana tree in your room?" the guard asks Dad quite amused at the size of the plant. Dad explains they are from our friend and gives them to our new friend bidding both the drives and guard a
final goodnight. We take a final dip in our private pool under said banana tree before bed. "So, what did you think of Phnom Penh this time around?" I ask Alecs moments before we drift off to sleep. "I actually liked it way more than last time we were here," he says, "I just love Cambodia."
final goodnight. We take a final dip in our private pool under said banana tree before bed. "So, what did you think of Phnom Penh this time around?" I ask Alecs moments before we drift off to sleep. "I actually liked it way more than last time we were here," he says, "I just love Cambodia."Tomorrow we are taking a 6 hour bus ride to Siem Reap where we will meet up with our good friend Rattana.
Until next time so long.
Alecs and Meg in Phnom Penh
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