Running along the Mekong.
Ok, so I guess running along the Mekong river in Pnomh Penh in the mid day heat isn't the most sensible thing, swerving tuk tuks and motorbikes and avoiding the incredulous looks from locals at the crazy European woman running when she could be riding. But where else would I see glistening new buildings vying with tumbledown shacks as the Cambodian capital brims with change, or fishermen throwing their nets into the river to catch snakefish for amok, or women carve coconuts to hold their lotus flowers, or monks smoking as they take a break from the Water festival, or locals fighting for use of the street gym that warns 'exercise may affect your health,' or a truck of chickens off to market followed by a food tuk tuk of grilled and tempting chicken meat, or the towers of the beautiful Ministry of Justice and Royal Pagoda jostling with neon lights promising 'cheap good times,' or stand on the Chroy Chung Va Bridge (the Cambodia Japan friendship bridge) and see local sellers take their wares along the National Route 6, some armed with no more than a basket and a hat, or expats with Bogart in their eyes spilling out of the glorious Casablanca inspired Foreign Correspondent's Club, or locals playing chess as others bat a shuttlecock to and fro over their heads, or the posters of garment industry protesters mixed with the wrappers of fresh fruit in some bizarre but accurate hybrid reflection as to the concerns of this crazy, commercial, cultural, evolving capital.
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