Traffic is heavy as Vathana & I make our way across Monivong Bridge and the Tonle (river) Bassac to Highway 1 South to his village. Koki Thom is about 45 kms away…more than an hour on his little moto with me and my kayak. The road is good…paved just 3 years ago, but not improved much since. The scenery is open countryside here, yielding wide blue skies, hills in the distance, rice fields in between. 
We pass though towns, some choked with traffic, chickens, street carts selling food, clothing, etc. Hard goods are almost all from Thailand, Vietnam, China, or Malaysia. Cambodia’s economy is tourism, agriculture, and a few clothing factories-with more on the way. I know we are getting close when people on the road start calling to Vathana & then we turn off a dirt path like many dirt paths passed before. A few stops to chat…Vathana is all smiles to be coming back with me in tow, another turn, past a few houses and home we are by 3 in the afternoon. Its all green trees, chirping birds (big insects?), brown dirt, and a simple 2 story house with concrete pad and raised seating table. Introductions, smiles, neighbors, kids, and then we are hammock bound while some food is prepared. His family is beautiful:
In his 50′s and ripped!
Brother…debonair even after a few cold(ish) ones.
Grandmother…glasses result of eye surgery (?!), betel eater=beautiful black (remaining) teeth! Sweet….
Front porch, kitchen. living room (TV inside though)
Vathana with his Niece, His sister is married to an “drug enforcement” policeman in Phnom Penh. He has a car & is not really liked all that much. (Can you think of a word that rhymes with eruption?)
My Khmer family…that’s Mom in front! Note the hip, short hair cut popular with most older women in the village.
The homestead…
The path to the Mekong….
Road in front of house after some rain….
We kick back in some hammonks while enjoying small green bananas, and some coconut rice sweets. I inhale the smells, close my eyes and listen to it all in grace….yeah right! In hammocks? With Vanthana’s brothers around? Not 10 minutes after introductions and we’re down the street drinking right next to the Mekong at some other house! “Hello! Hello!… My name Mr. Soi!… My name Plon!” 10 or so guys sitting around, now reanimated with our arrival. I buy a case of Anchor (which is pronounced An-CHORE, as is basically a smooth lager, perfect for 11:00 a.m, which is the time these guys got started) to keep things going…which we’re rolling just fine, thank you. It is festival time, most in Cambodia has gone home, which means its time to PARTY! And off we roll to another party, more introductions, more drinking…i learn a new drinking cheer (same as last year, but i’ve forgotten) which receives much cheer & laughter everytime i say it: “Choi Moii!”
The Khmer drinking toast is a beautiful phrase which translates as “Crash the glass!” And thankfully this is Cambodia, and the ritual is generally shared by the group. Last year in Vietnam there was a constant onslaught of rice wine shots taken one to one within the group. For me this meant i was doing 4-6 shots for every 1 the Viets took. I learned to fake it quickly. “Choi Moii!” I shout as I get up: i’ve been drinking for a little while and the Mekong is just yards away. Feet need to feel it, my eyes need to drink it, and anyways I have to pee….
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