This morning I woke and decided I would go to the French bakery. Sophie and I found it the other day and its the best bread we have found since we have been away from home. On my way back to our guesthouse I decided to roam the market. I have always loved the markets in Asia. They are small meccas that hold life. They make me feel powerful and vibrant feelings of being alive. Like when you see your favorite band for the first time, or jump off a pier into open ocean. There is so much life happening here in these markets. Monks chant over shop keepers and salespeople. Fish are wiggling and fighting to escape their small water enclosures, and men place bets under small overhangs filled with pool tables. It's so complex and overwhelming but absolutely peaceful. Life is happening here and it's a very long way from the frozen food section in the fluorescent supermarkets I knew growing up. It makes me wonder what happened to all the butchers and vegetable sellers, the watch fixers and umbrella salesman. I love home. It's pretty and safe and clean and the people I love are there but I would be lying to you if I said I didn't enjoy this world. It is so different to the one I was raised in. I feel like a big kid who is out exploring. I am flipping over rocks and looking under dead trees and seeking out secret hideouts. This was my morning in Cambodia.