This little jar of marionberry jam caused a little ruckus at the airport security check. So I was told by CK and Spence, as they sat in their Phnom Penh hotel, relaying their day of overland border crossings, a trip that took them from a small island in Vietnam into the Cambodian countryside via boat rides and bus rides, with livestock and human passengers. The jam fiasco involved an airline attendant, CK putting her foot down, and eventually some dear friends and the jar of jam being escorted to the plane (or something like that). I am touched.
Thank you, dear friends, for bringing with you your gifts of marionberry and boysenberry preserves (not available in Phnom Penh), hot cocoa (two varieties, taking into account the availability of milk here), pasta and pasta sauce, cast-off New Yorker magazines and news of Portland life. And for your warm company.
I'm sorry the streets were empty and too quiet. That most shops were closed. That the shoemakers were closed and the dressmakers too. But I enjoyed playing tourist with you in this city I now call home.