Today in Cambodia: ‘holy cowboys’ are a headline in the Phnom Penh post. Kind of perfect.

A song plays into the early morning, unexpected, and sends me to another place : a boat between turkey and an island : an afternoon on white water : back in Cambodia and awaiting a morning coffee.

China is in the news, Pakistan, Libya.  Afghanistan, ‘grease devils’ in Sri Lanka, nuclear partners and Russia and Iran. Phew. The world continues to blow itself up and wage wars and child malnutrition rises, and we live in all the small gaps.

And I have lunch and I see the same pair of children I see almost everyday. Brother ad sister? No idea. And she – filthy and beautiful – says to me, it is not fair. And in that moment I say to her I know, it is not fair, oh how I know. And yet how can I possibly? I want to gather her up and rescue her. I sip my ice tea as they return to the street. Today it is not hot. Good news. And, today in my own life it feels not fair, (I hear you small sister) then I see her and realise it really is not fair.

: the world song for today:

Small voice. Large world.

I could cry. Again. Here a daily waging of life against life. A pact made with the powers that be to ‘do better’ because I can.