I'll give you my bed

and they slept in hammocks while the rubber trees dripped

My bedroom in the Village Chief’s house.

‘Here is your room.’ The tour guide shows me. I walk in. A large pink net drapes around the mattress on the floor. A new brush in a plastic wrapper is on the one shelf in the room corner. Only bars make up the window. It does not shut, nor are there any curtains or blinds. Everything is clean and neatly arranged. I can see the outside light through the wood panel wall. This is the Chief’s house. It is a wealthy house.

The air is heavy and wet but I am so relaxed my body happily swims through it. My lungs don’t strain as they pull in this damp oxygen. All of it uncurls me from deep within, as Cambodia has continued to do since I arrived.

After settling in, I head downstairs, and the tour guide shows the group the rubber trees in the backyard. We inspect how the tree bark is cut back on a slant with a small spout catching the latex that drips out in a dish. A new cut is made directly below the last every two days. The Chief earns an income from the rubber, in addition to money earned from putting their house up for tour groups like us.

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That evening I sleep well after the efternoon tour of the local rice fields we got to by riding in ox-drawn carts. I struggled to keep my focus on the farmer's talk about his crop as the sky competed for attention, throwing deep purples onto the fading blue of the day.

I wake deeply rested and walk downstairs for breakfast. The tour group sits at the table. We are served long bread buns for our scrambled egg and fried rice. I notice hammocks slung up underneath the house. I ask our tour guide about our stay here, and he explains how the Chief and family sleep on these hammocks to give up the house for us. He comments on how helpful the extra income from this is for them but how it is still barely enough.

I cannot help but wonder how the rest of the village survives. From a few emergency USD notes I have, I pull out and tuck one into my thank-you gift of biscuits and tea towels I purchased back home, knowing this trip was on our itinerary.

‘Who and how should I give this in thanks?’ I ask the guide.

‘Give it to the Chief’s wife.’ He tells me with no further explanation. As we give our farewells I pass it over quietly and give her a heartfelt thanks.

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