a blur

I blinked and two weeks flew by. It seems like it was yesterday when I Khmer-danced around the ribbon and balloon-adorned room, with colleagues and communities. But I know that was last Wednesday.

It seems like yesterday when I sat in a circle with colleagues at Sotheary's rooftop home, munching on home-cooked Vietnamese food as I watched the fireworks display blast across the city sky. But I know that was last Friday.

It seems like yesterday when I sat with Mark at Java Cafe, discussing the nuances of human rights work in this country, a scene dominated by many strong-willed, passionate players, who often have conflicting personalities and agendas. But I know that was last Monday when I was reminded of how much I still need to learn about working in this country.

It seems like yesterday when I sat with an ADB specialist to discuss my findings, to relay the stories of impoverished communities living hand-to-mouth, of families scavenging for water, of disempowerment. But I know that was Tuesday when I tasted frustration.

Somewhere, sandwiched in between those days, blurring now, is Kampot and sleep and laziness.

Life moves quickly here. I can't remember if it was like this back home.

Also, I can't believe I'm going back to Rabbit Island this weekend. Oh, what I do for friends.