Vomiting aside, it is important to understand that a vacation to Cambodia is slightly dangerous and extremely happy.
What do I mean by slightly dangerous and extremely happy?
The following exchanges may prove helpful in explaining my point.
While swimming at the hotel one hot afternoon:
Me (to child)
“Time to get out of the pool.”
Child (who loves swimming and hates almost all forms of transportation)
“Are we going in the tuk-tuk with no seatbelts and no doors?”
“Are we going in the tuk tuk to explore the ruins again?”
Child (while exiting pool as fast as I’ve ever seen a child do so)
At one of the more fallen down of the Angkor-area temple complexes:
“I’m hungry. Can we eat some more M&Ms here?”
Husband (looking up at precarious stone structure that defies gravity and has already half fallen down)
“Ah, no, no, not here. Please walk quickly away from there.”
At another temple complex:
“I need to pee.”
Me (visually scanning for facilities and locating none)
“See that pile of tumbled down rocks under that tree? Go pee over there like that little boy. Just keep an eye out for those stray dogs.”
“Yeah! Tree pee, tree pee, tree pee!”
At restaurant in Siem Reap:
Husband (to waiter)
“My child can’t eat any wheat including soy sauce. Any suggestions?”
Waiter (after consulting with the cooks)
“She can’t eat anything on the children’s menu, but the stir fried ants or the curry are both ok.”
“I’ll take the ants.”
And she ate every one of them.
(Photos in this post are from several Angkor-area temple complexes, but mainly Banteay Kday and Preah Khan.)