In Which I Begin to Understand Why Angelina Jolie Adopted a Child from Cambodia

I've seen a lot in the past couple of days. Some of it good (like hundreds of ladies aerobicizing in front of the Royal Palace and the amazingly beautiful Phnom Wat), but a lot of it depressing. And not just the records of what happened 30 years ago.

Issue one: landmines. There are so many people begging (or trying to sell books so they can earn an honest living) that are missing arms and legs thanks to the landmines that are still all over the place. This is sad.

Issue two: street kids. There are over 20,000 kids in Phnom Penh that live and work on the streets. Yesterday we had lunch and dinner at two different non-profit restaurants whose proceeds go to housing and educating street kids. The fact is that there are a ton of these restaurants because there are so many kids that need help. Really young kids. (Child sex tourism is also a major problem here, which makes you wonder what kind of monsters could come to a country whose people have endured so much and make things even worse.)

We got to talk to some slightly better off street kids yesterday, as they tried to sell us postcards and books on the genocide. They were very sweet and incredibly bright, considering (when the woman next to me said she was from Australia, one of the kids promptly said "A dingo ate my baby"). They're also way more desperate than any child should have to be. I keep on hearing that it will take generations to heal the wounds inflicted on the country by Pol Pot, but I wonder what's going to happen to all these children in the meantime.