We took our scooter and headed 120km North of Phnom Penh to Kampong Cham. The 9-hour motorcycle, or moto as they call it here, was nothing short of gruelling. We took the backroads of National Highway 6A when the road construction started to get unbearable. Our legs and back were sunburnt by the end of trip-- the heat pierced through our skin like thin muslin in a hearth. The trees were beautifully covered in red dust. It reminded me so much of Poinsettia leaves that turn red during Christmas season. We met an accident which left a gash on my knee, a burn on Taylor's calf and a huge wound on his knee that is still healing after nearly 2 months! After having gas poured on our wounds, a man took his stash of dried tobacco, spat on it, and rubbed it on them, but nonetheless, we were both happy we took this trip.
Travelling to and through the provinces on a moto reminded me why I decided to stay in the first place. Children enthusiastically waved and shouted "hello" when we passed by. And when we needed help and assistance during the accident, the locals didn't hesitate to lend us a hand. They gave us water and tended to our wounds and didn't ask a single penny in return. A woman passed by and offered to have us shower and rest at her home. Quite honestly, we probably looked like we really needed it-- in all our dusty and bleeding glory on a side-walk.
It was breath of fresh air being surrounded with such innocence and genuine acts of kindness towards strangers. And in that moment, I fell in love with Cambodia once again.
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