327 Market

I am writing from the Tokyo narita airport, and it quickly is becoming my favorite layover stop. I spent 12 hours yesterday at BKK. It was cold, the day rooms where so exhorbitant I passed, the chairs were uncomfortable, the food, appalling, and the endless announcements were so obnoxious. You had to pay for the internet. The bathroom was the only pleasant place, as they kept it a nice temperature. Of course, it didn`t help that I was coming off a nasty bout of pol pot`s revenge, had a headache, a stomach that couldn`t hold anything down and diahrrea. I checked the clock about ever twenty minutes for 12 hours. I thought I was never going to escape. I had planned on taking the much cheaper option of overland (and could have avoided the 12 hour layover), but when I spent all day wednesday in bed, the thought of a day of a bumpy four hour taxi ride, a border crossing, a bus ride and the challenge of finding my way from the the bus station to the airport-- it was so overwhelming I forked over the 170 dollars for an airlplane ticket out of Siem Reap gladly. H* came by, D*`s older brother. He wanted to see the ticket. He caressed it gently, before returning it to me. The typical cambodian makes about 60 dollars/mo. (D`s sister, who is studying to be a teacher, can expect to make 15/mo) H* isn`t working right now. Its the slow season. He wants to come to America. But its not an option for him, unless some miracle happens.