Very skow motion

though still moving very slowly.  ‘‘Where are we going?”  I ask Kim repeatedly, after it seems like we have been traveling forever,  “I donit kT10W, We just passed the Po Chentong airport. which , ' 99 3 means we are on Highway Four. Stop asking me all the time.  sulking.  My body sags and I begin to grow tired. My eyelids struggle to stay open against the glaring sunlight and the dust from the road. The wind whips my hair all about, tickling my face, but I do not smile. I wince 35  l burrow under my scarf to hide from the sun and resign myself to i i  the hot, dry air enters my nostrils. Keav wraps the end of my scarf i  tightly over my nose and mouth to keep the dust out, and she tells me not to look over the side of the truck. . ,  In Cambodia we have only two seasons, dry and rain. Cambodias tropical climate is dictated 13)’ the monsoons, which bring heavy mm  _ is from May to October. Keav says during the rainy season, the country  . , W V€fY i a green Paradise. She saYs there s so much water that the trees gm  A etallic tall and the leaves swell with moisture. They take on 3 dark’ m  


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