I’m not sure I’d ever felt so violated. Internally, everyone there became a suspect. We only had two hours before we were to pack up, leave the village and hike our way back up towards Sapa. I immediately began sizing each of the other eight up – knowing that my phone was undoubtedly somewhere near.
This week marks ten months since we left Dallas. We thought we’d put together a little something fun to celebrate the occasion so we’ve compiled a few tidbits (ten to be exact) that you may or may not care to know about us. Ready or not, here we go.
Ashlie and I went back and forth on who would write our last post, Coming To Grips With A Tragic Past. We both had much to say, but my vote was, since I’d been to these places before, she share her first impression of being introduced to such unnecessary evil.
We had already visited the infamous Tuol Sleng Prison in Phnom Penh, gazed at the countless photos of victims displayed in rows and walked through the very killing fields made famous by the Khmer Rouge. But, it wasn’t until reading her story that it really hit me.
I’m well versed in leaving. I’ve had plenty of practice. In my thirty-three years I’ve moved twenty-six times and that only counts the moves between cities, not the minor changes in scenery brought about by relocating to a different neighborhood or from an apartment to a house. The majority of my moves occurred before I reached eighteen years old, establishing what I sometimes fear is an unbreakable habit.
I am mesmerized by this building. It’s teeming with life – raw, dirty, unfair life, but an evening walk down the alleyway proves that there is joy and beauty residing here too. During the rule of the Khmer Rouge (1975 to 1979), the entire city was forced to evacuate and the landscape of the city was forever changed. When the Pol Pot regime ended and inhabitants moved back to the city, this building became