The main street, if it can even be called that, is a long, orange brown dirt road running the entire length of village and lies just a foot or two above the water level. In the wet season I am sure it becomes flooded, turning from street to canal. The sides are lined with simple wooden houses on stilts several meters high. Along the side of road and in the spaces between the stilts are all manner of things in a huge jumble, round bottom boats with cracked sides, motorbikes, tuk tuks, piles of fish traps, nets hung out to dry, old engines, pieces of machinery, blue tarps with shrimps spread out on them to dry, and chickens searching for food in the piles of trash. All around, people are going about their daily lives, children playing, women chopping wood, a man pasting sheets of glass fiber on an upturned boat, shop owners lounging in their hammocks waiting for customers. A small slice of life from real, rural Cambodia.
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