My Cambodia
After we completed our last ride, I remember washing off the red clay dust from my legs, arms and face and I watched it cascade down the drain, it is so red it looks like blood. It is everywhere, on my shirt, shorts, legs, arms, on the bill of my hat, it is ground so deeply into my shoes, I know they will never be completely cleaned of it…But I’m fine with that. I like having those little reminders of my time here, as Cambodia drops back into the realm of dreams, where it has lived most of my life. But now the colors are vivid, the sounds are sharp, and the images are mine. I am holding onto a unique set of images that is now my Cambodia, not the images from a TV show or magazine. Just like any other place in this world, the reality of it is not there until you experience it. Now that I have returned home, and have had a week to process… I still don’t know what to think. I do know now what my Cambodia is. I would relate it first as my home…one of several…i