In Cambodia

I'm currently sitting in the T.C. Internet Shop on Sihanouk Blvd. and
I am listening to "Dark Fantasy" by Kanye West. It's a strange
juxtaposition. Almost everywhere I go, people recongize me from last
year. It's a constant stream of "Hey! I know you!"

Upon arrival, I realized that I had not applied for a visa
(whoopsie!). I got yelled at by so many immigration officials and the
woman who was supposed to meet me at the airport failed to show up. I
was greeted by a sea of Cambodian faces, and each of their faces held
an amused look: what is this white boy doing--dressed like a boy
scout-- all alone at midnight?

Like last year, stepping through those airport doors brought  me
into another dimension. Had I stepped back in world history or in my own
personal history? Whatever the case, this reality was a bit warped, convincing me that
history cannot repeat itself.

After about a half hour of calling the woman who was supposed to meet me,
I decided to look for a ride. A man, who looked like a bull-frog with his big, half stuck-out eyes, seemed approachable enough. He was a tuk-tuk driver and we got into it.
Here's a somewhat accurate transcript:

(Pochentong Airport, 12:04 a.m.)

Me: I offer you two dollars!

Driver: No! Bram (five) dollar!

Me: Thlai nas! (Very expensive) Kgnom haoy buy dollar  (I offer you three dollars).

Driver: Ate! (No!) Five dollar!

(I start walking away)

Driver: Okay, sir, three and a half dollars!

When in doubt, walk away. They'll always lower the price to something
more reasonable. At some point in our conversation, a group of about twenty Cambodians--mostly men--gathered around us on the airport curb. They laughed at my proposals and my face flushed red from their stares.

I agreed on the price, and rode off with him into the relatively cold night.
We got lost and, after I guided him to the guesthouse, I paid him the full five
dollars for his patience. It gave me something to feel good about in my stupor.

Then we parted ways.