Today is last day of June. I cannot believe it. What is it with the passage of time here? Some moments, I'm quite aware how a week dissolves with a blink of an eye, and other times, it feels as if I've been here for months, doing this work for months, having these conversations with these people for months.
Last night, my Aussie flatmate and I sat on our dark terrace until the wee hours of the morning, chatting about his experiences working with the ECCC on the Khmer Rouge trials and his experiences as an expat in Cambodia. To him, two years passed quickly and eventfully, and in the not-so-distant horizon is his return to Melbourne, marking another significant shift in his life. I wonder how he will go back.
I cannot imagine, especially not right now, when I am still feeling my way, when I am still trying things on. It takes all my mental capacity to wrap my head around the image of a brownish-red me teetering sidesaddle on a motorbike, with a fresh baguette wedged under my arm, my mobile phone glued to my ear, and my sweat-drenched hair flying in all directions. Sadly, this an all too common image. I live in Phnom Penh, after all.
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