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Fifty shades of white
For another take on being white in Cambodia, see this poem. Upon arrival in Cambodia, I am immediately called beautiful. Given the way I languish somewhere between life and death at that moment and the...
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Fear itself
I’m going to Cambodia. Though I’m sober when I make this decision, I buy the plane ticket one Saturday night under the influence of a few glasses of red wine. The wine not enough to fully summon my...
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The city that never breathes
It’s the city that never breathes. twenty million sets of lungs wait to inhale, diaphragms tense, as grey skies hang low over dark hutongs, still speaking to the past and touch tallest gleaming towers,...
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