Phnom-enal

It's hard to write a pithy, witty blog having spent the day at killing fields and a genocide museum. To do so would be inappropriate to the millions of Cambodians who lost their lives to the brutal regime of Pol Pot or those whose lives have been destroyed by the landmines laid down by the Khmer Rouge. Hardly a soul in this country has been left untouched by this human disaster.

However (and there was always destined to be a 'however') I feel that to question other people's lack of respect is not itself disrespectful. After all, as I trawled around looking at numerous skulls and hearing tales of mass devastation I was quiet and respectful. I didn't chat loudly, cheerily, on the phone and in French (possibly the worst aspect of that combination). I also didn't write graffiti on the prison walls. Simply unbelievable that someone could plaster their name on the wall of a prison in which only 7 people out of 20,000 survived. The fact that John from California visited in 2007 is of no interest and immense disrespect to all concerned, methinks. And lastly, I didn't smile. This wasn't a smiling matter and I was told not to smile. I think the very fact that there was a no smiling notice perfectly exemplifies the aforementioned situation.