Dear Friends,

Please excuse my long hiatus from the blogging word!  Just returning from vacation and I’m having a hard time readjusting to reality and am still stuck on “Cambodian time” where it’s perfectly acceptable to be running late and a delay in things doesn’t really put anyone else out by much. 

Where strangers smile at each other and call each other “brother” or “sister” and the large quantities of food and drinks you share with each other show each other how much you love one another.  Snacking all day is perfectly acceptable and roadside stands and street vendors are at every corner.  

It’s 90 degrees at 8 am with 80% humidity…

One of the stops along our road trip was to Kompong Saom, more popularly known as Sihanoukville which was named after King Norodom Sihanouk (who personally pinned my Grandfather Teav with a medal, I recently found out!).  This little beach town is in the Gulf of Thailand and has amazing sunsets, clear blue skies and lazy waves that wash onto shore. 

It’s the place my 5 minute mental vacation takes me to every day since I’ve gotten back to the states.

 Sokha Beach Resort is the stuff dreams are made of.  Huts on the shoreline, bartenders right next to those huts, fresh roasted peanuts served alongside an ice cold Angkor beer or fresh, iced coconut water watching the sunset.

Better yet, belly up to the beach side bar for fresh squeezed orange juice spiked with fresh squeezed lime juice…ok, maybe a splash of vodka found its way into mine.

 Ahhhh, refreshing!

I asked Joel what he missed the most about Cambodia.  He loved the temples, the city, the people and the food,  but what he misses the most is the pace.  Here we’re rushing from one meeting or conference call to the next, dropping off kids, picking them up, fixing dinner (if it’s not fast food), baths and bedtimes just to do it all over again. 

Maybe it was because we were on vacation, maybe it’s because Cambodians don’t wear watches.  I’m now officially a fan of “Cambodian time”. 

But a two week road trip across Cambodia wasn’t nearly enough time to experience all that feel I should have absorbed.  I can’t explain it; it’s like coming home to a place you didn’t know was “home”. 

I have an overwhelming urge and needto know not only the secrets this country holds to her civil wars, the genocide and oppression, but Mom & Dad’s first hand experiences during the Khmer Rouge regime; their survival, their escape, their losses and their sacrifices for education and for family.  How “Cambodian time” makes sense to me now (!) as I recall Mom always saying, “I’m not that late!” and how Dad’s warmth, smile and laughter is so infectious and welcoming…

More to come, I promise.