Temple Time Snack Time

Temple Time Snack Time

The afternoon heat beats down mercilessly in the afternoons of Cambodia’s jungles, where the angkors (temples), attract visitors–some better suited than others to withstand the heat. As I feebly sought shelter in one of the limestone corners, I remember thinking that despite my floppy hat and exponential SPF sunscreen and gallons of consumed Gatorade, I was just too weak–too ill-equipped to continue the afternoon exploring.

That was, until from the corner of my eye I saw these two visitors–the little boy was a trooper, refusing water from his mom, who, I am assuming, was insisting that he hydrate. He eventually acquiesced, took a few sips, and was rewarded with a snack. In a matter of seconds they ventured onwards. I don’t think they saw me languishing in the corner. Their pragmatism erased my sense of self-defeat, and I too continued on. These temples can’t explore themselves, you know.

Imperial Pit Stops

Imperial Pit Stops

It was gray and cold when the train pulled into the Novosibirsk train station on the way from Beijing to Moscow in May 2012. The beautiful pastel-colored building was a welcome respite as I inched close to window pane to capture the shot. Taking pictures from a dining booth in a cramped cabin is tricky. I wanted so much to hop off the train and spend hours there, absorbing the architecture’s aching beauty, visual salve to my eyes tired of the stark tundra and birch forests to which I had become accustomed the few past days. But Moscow, still 48 hours away, awaited. And 10-minute pit stops on a six-day journey waited for no one.

I sat there shooting until the train pulled away.

Child’s Play

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In April 2012, I was finishing roughly hour 13 of the 15 hour exhausting journey from Ho Chi Minh City to Da Nang, when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw this little boy slide open the berth door to take a closer look at me. His playfulness was infectious. For the remainder of the journey he and I played peek-a-boo, hide-and-seek, and flew paper airplanes down the narrow cabin before I sent him back to his mother with coconut candy in hand.

I promise to write more, soon, about both Vietnam as well as that train journey.

A Place to Rest

A Place to Rest

The bus from Tbilisi to Yerevan stopped at Haghpat Monastery in northern Armenia that day in May 2012. When the rain finally let up, I was able to snap this picture. While the others traipsed around the monastery’s grounds, I decided to rest in this quiet corner…that is, until the rain picked up again. It’s no wonder those rolling hills are perpetually emerald.