Today we took buckets of rice, bottles of fish sauce and gifts of clothing to some of the poorest villagers in Baray, about 100km north of PhnomPenh.
In one of the houses our children played with day-old ducklings, alongside Khmer children; boundaries of culture and language melted away as all squealed with delight. Another mother we talked with (through an interpreter) proudly showed us their church, a peeling wooden shack. We chatted with her in a lean-to barn amongst her animals, only to discover that the ‘barn’ was her home, and she was saving up to buy some walls.