Of Friends, Elephants and Children.

 

It is a day before departure to Bangkok then on to Frankfurt.  The 7 days have rushed by and it seems like no time at all.  Jehangir, in his usual inimitable style asks a question in passing.

“So, what are the three things you’ll take away from this Cambodian leg of your trip?”

It’s a simple question but a layered response which I have to think about for a while.

 

Friendship

Jehangir has been a gracious host and we have spent many hours together on this trip.  We’ve traversed a variety of discussions and really enjoyed each other’s company.  The conversations are searching, free and frank and there’s always the warped sense of humour element lurking beneath each on both our parts.  It’s been great to be here for two milestones (a lucky co-incidence), firstly the news that one of Jehangir’s short stories has just been accepted for publication, secondly his birthday which we celebrated together with dinner at the Foreign Correspondents Club in Phnom Penn.  I’ve enjoyed the time and his friendship and meeting some of his friends including Grusche. 

 

Elephants

You sometimes hear countries in Asia compared to animals.  My impression of Cambodia conjours up the image of an Elephant. The elephant lives a long life (if it’s not prematurely ended by humans), it never forgets, it walks slowly but can run quickly.  Sometimes covered in scars and eyes that are big, wise and soulful.  On a visit to the national museum in Phnom Penn, I walk past the statue of an elephant outside.  It is sitting, holding its trunk in one foot and one of it’s tusks broken off in the other.  This rendition is the god Ganesha http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ganesha and represents the god of wisdom (and interestingly the patron god of writers).  The mythology is that it sought to be wise and found a scholar.  The scholar said “If you want to know, you will need to record what I say.” Not having anything to write with, the elephant tore off one of its own tusks and proceeded to write.  Hopefully the collective history and wisdom will get applied to Cambodia. 

 

Children

I left the day of Khmer Rouge visits  with the word in my head that I do not even know exists: hollowing.  The is a cross between harrowing and leaving me hollow.  Then, on the way back to town, there are children playing on the side of the road.  They wave, their smiles are wide.  Children are a natural commodity that Cambodia has an abundance of.  They are loved and cherished by their families (even if some cannot feed them enough).The journey from darkness to light for this country will rest on their shoulders.