This is a scheduled post planned to be published at 1508066991000 at 1508066991000
We reached the province of Kandal and walked along the Mekong river. The large tree that fed on the rich waters was thick and long rooted. We talked until the shadows were long and the gluey play dough red earth stuck to our shoes. We were ASEAN inspired, a cultural exchange, and we spoke of what was unique about the countries we lived in. He said he liked the smell of Manilas breath but he misses the Tokyo skies. I told him that the dirt here was full of history and how it was chipping and brittle from the aged wine of war and colonization that still sours its heart.