Immediately upon leaving the airport, I was immersed in a world that I thought would have vanished decades ago. A long time has passed since the visual images of the Cambodian war were taken, and I'd assumed that over the past thirty years, the country would have undergone a significant economic and perhaps technological transformation. Instead I kept jockeying from the right to the left of the vehicle for the entire fifteen minute journey to the hotel, to feast my eyes on the lush landscape, and on such sights as the water buffalo feeding near rice paddies, three people from multiple generations to a motorbike, dozens of uniform-clad youngsters biking home from school, bicycles laden so high with coconuts or so wide with fire wood that the feat of pedaling, let alone actually moving forward, seemed impossible. I saw thatched huts on stilts out of the left-hand window, and bare-footed children playing by the side of the road on the right.
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