According to Wikipedia, the average weight of an American man AND woman is around 164-167.  I mentioned this because the 3’x5’ coffin style elevator at our hotel says it can hold 6 people and 400kg.  After barely fitting Cher, three Asian guys and myself in it yesterday, I am here to tell you there is no way 6 big old Americans could cram themselves into that space, let alone fall within the weight range without the chance of said elevator plunging to the ground.  Frankly, it is likely it could …

Cher wakes up particularly chipper this morning and not just because she smells good.  Today we are bringing Srey Leap to the Russian Market with some of her friends to go clothes shopping and Cher is anxious to spoil her little Stung Meanchy princess a little bit.
Before we can play, however, there is work to be done.  First up is a meeting with Saloth, the former head administrator with Handicap International.  Now she works with my friends Pierre and John at CFI, The Coalition Of Financial Independence, who will be …

Vantha’s Tuk Tuk, which was in deplorable shape 2 years ago, qualifies as a disaster waiting to happen today.  Its frame rattles with death throes as we lurch along, large tears in the upholstery and a make shift automatic gas feeder that pretty much is an old gas can duct taped to the side with a rubber hose running into the tank.  Each time we lurch to a stop, a thin stream of gasoline runs out from underneath.  Cher and I eye it warily hoping the Tuk Tuk is not …

My sister is very chipper in the morning.  I am not.  As I groggily open my eyes and start to come to terms with the fact that I must eventually give in to coherency, Cher skips about the room like Pollyanna.  “Breakfast?” she chirps at me as I try to pry my eyeballs open.  I stagger out of bed and pause when I hear what sounds suspiciously like bed springs creaking.  Now I have stayed in enough hotels to recognize certain things and for a brief moment, it appears someone …

As usual the countdown to leaving for Cambodia involves a lot of scrambling, last minute packing and good old fashion swearing.  While I careened my jeep around Rose Bowl detours in Pasadena in an effort to get Cher and I to all the last minute stops we have to make, my little sister clutched the side of the door, eyed me warily and announced if she wanted to be involved in a crash – she’d much prefer to take her chances on the back of a moto in Cambodia.  By …