Kampuchea

by H. Tsory

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Smoke rising out of the jungle, houses on stilts. Where are we? Ornate village temples, palm trees poking here and there out of lowland fields.

Moving from Vietnam into Cambodia there is less Chinese influence and more Indian. The land opening up, less people and more cattle.
This is a heavy place, something about it..

Rolling through peering out the bus window I was listening to Shpongle (Ineffable Mysteries…) and stoner metal (Stangala, The Sword) and it fit. An otherworldly sensation, divine flames burning atop gateways and licking off the edges of roofs, Buddhist iconography with Hindu vestiges. Even the written word – a modified Sanskrit- is trippy.

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