The Impression

DATELINE: August 29, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

Deanna and I walked on Thnou Street, dodging tuk tuks, parked moto bikes, garbage, massage brochure-givers, land cruisers, bicycles, dogs and much, much more. To my left, I was aware of a Caucasian boy with a short hair cut who looked like one of my grandsons. He was with his family.

In the same moment, he and I both noticed a Khmer man sitting in the street, selling books from a box hung around his neck. The man had no legs and stump arms. He was most likely one of the many Cambodian land mine victims. Perhaps as a child, he was bringing home the family cow and set off a device planted during the Vietnam War.

I watched the boy’s face. I witnessed a transformation. He had been a tourist who used his summer vacation to visit a World Heritage Site. Now, he has become a man who looked poverty in the face. Maybe he will want to make a difference. At any rate, he will never be the same.

I long for my grandsons to come to Cambodia some day.