Have tried several times to share my (of course, brilliant and completely original) photos of Angkor, I'm giving up.
Yesterday, I spent several hours traipsing around a village, doing a house-to-house survey. This was rather like my first week here, and prompted some reflections:
I can wear a sarong! I even got complemented on the fact that I wear it properly (by a woman in the street, who had no idea that I could understand her). Admittedly, I use a safety pin - a fact I kept to myself.
I can speak - a little. I certainly can't say "safety pin".
The houses still seem precarious.
It's still bloody hot.
The level of community still impresses me, but I also know it's not as idyllic as it looks.
But the biggest change was that I feel at home. I can walk up the hills without nearly collapsing. I can happily thread amongst the herd of buffalo. And most of all - I don't keep falling over. Yes, I've managed to recover my instincts to negotiate this most challenging of environments: a village road. And, given my usual level of clumsiness-induced injuries, I'm proud of this fact.
So proud, I mentioned it to my friend over dinner.
And promptly spilt scalding soup down my front.