Firstly, thank you so much to all my faithful readers who have hopped onto my blog over the last two weeks and found nothing new to read! I apologise, although my excuses are good!
We finally arrived back at our jungle tree house only yesterday, ten days after leaving the Netherlands. We travelled by car, train, shuttle, tiny plane and taxi over that time and finally made it back with a week's stop in Phnom Penh as well.
My kids are thrilled beyond measure - Esther had been asking every day for the past two weeks if it was the day she would finally be home. I am still amazed at the way strange things can become normal, even preferable when you are as flexible as a child.
Indeed its good to be "home", to finally unpack the suitcases and eat mangoes until they are coming out of your ears.
But this is still Cambodia.
On the way into Phnom Penh for the airport on the afternoon we arrived, I saw a young man lying dead on the road. Although I turned my head as soon as the picture registered, the imagine still comes to my mind sometimes as I try to fall asleep. It was a motorbike accident - one of so many on the streets of Phnom Penh. And he had not been wearing a helmet.
And then yesterday, as I stacked my children's clothes and placed them into their draws, I chanced to look out of the window and into the jungle space, ten meters from our home. There, with her much younger brother, was a little girl, of perhaps 10, cutting firewood. Axe in hand, she beat away, stopping to rest in the 35 degree heat, and wiping her brow. As I continued to watch, her hard work was rewarded with the branch giving way, which brought a happy cheer from her brother.
Perhaps its just because I've been gone 6 weeks, but I felt an even deeper sadness than usual. Here, in this remote place, childhood is reserved for the rich, and everyone else has to work to contribute to their family's daily survival.
I rushed downstairs, chocolates in hand, somehow wishing to compensate for all that I did not impose on my own children who were happily discovering lost toys of six weeks ago. I offered the chocolate, and asked a little about them. They were thrilled with their treat, and oblivious to my sadness. Indeed they said, they were helping their mum. She was at home, waiting for them to arrive with the wood so she could cook their rice for dinner. So they had rice? Good.
I walked back home with some measure of compensation. At least they would not be hungry tonight.
Welcome back home.
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