Things to Remember and Never Forget

When I look outside my bedroom window I see a burst of green. In the event that the wind is blowing, the trees rustle and send water-apples falling down onto the tin roof below. Sometimes a jack-fruit falls and a noise like a firing gun fills the air. Birds make their homes in the trees--the two birds with blue feathers and the flicky tails that seem to enjoy crashing headfirst into windows, the great black-and-orange birds that caw loudly, the never seen bird that always seems to think that midnight is a good time to whistle, the little white birds that make their little, circular nests in lower trees, and the little brown finches that fill all of Cambodia. Every time I look out my window I can see the little birdies hopping around in the green, green trees.

In the rainy season the leaves glisten. In the dry season they become coated with dust--but they never fall, and the birds never leave.

~~~

Sitting at my desk, I focus on the text before me. The Vietnam War, Winston Churchill's death, and other events of the 20th century...Suddenly with a whir of noise, a bright green blur appears in front of me, flapping furiously. Soon a little birdie sits on my hand, eyeing my textbook with hungry eyes (at least he has good taste). Then, a moment later, another whir of noise and something lands on my shoulder, digging little claws into my shoulder. Marshy nibbles at my neck as Tollers tries to eat my schoolbook and I attempt to read.

~~~

Geckos chirp.

~~~

Sweat drips down my back as I walk rapidly through the market aisles, dodge past two tourists, and--mustering all my self-resolve--keep from barging in as I hear a tourist getting ripped off. I pass piles of t-shirts, dresses hanging all lumped together, jewelry in masses of reds, greens, and purples, Khmer instruments, and so much more. Smells of iced coffee, durian, noodles, and fried bananas float through the air.