Inspiration: A Gut Feeling

I’ve been waiting for inspiration – for that moment, that ideal and perfect day that would rid me of my literary bonds, free my mind of its crippling writers block, and cast out the rust and dust that coated my imaginative storytelling abilities. I knew it would happen – this is Cambodia! A country bursting with development and color, haunted by ghosts of the past and demons of the future alike. This is a place with stories on every corner, rummaging through every gutter, and sitting on every throne. And – finally! – it happened. Inspiration! And on my birthday none the less! And what, you ask was this magical event that finally and irrevocably pulled the words from my traveling soul? Amoebas. Yep – amoebas. And no, amoeba is not a Khmer word for a form of enlightenment or a type of meditation. It isn’t a place either. It’s exactly what it is – a fancy medical term for telling you that you have worms. In your stomach. That you are a host to a tidy little party of parasites who have set up camp in your body and are living it up!

(Before I continue, rest assured that I’m fine. Other than a bothersome need to remain in the immediate vicinity of a restroom and having to take a rather massive amount of medicines, I’m perfectly healthy. There is very little discomfort and no lasting damages. So all things considered – malaria and dengue fever being the main things to consider – this is actually a good prognosis.)

Now I know you are wondering how a belly fully of creepy crawlies gives a person inspiration. Well, maybe inspiration is a bit ambitious. What actually happened was that this little ‘bump on the third world country road’ stole many of my little everyday joys leaving me with the need for a new form of expression and enjoyment. Let me explain – life in a country without college football, epic surf session, good wine and Mexican food or nights spent with my friends and family leaves you relying on a few vital and much needed enjoyments. Cold beers at sunset in your apartment for example. Or a nice run or workout session. Or really great, really spicy local foods. So you can imagine my immense disappointment and shock when I was informed that I cannot under any circumstances drink a beer for 20 days, go running for at least a week, or have spicy food until this ‘issue’ clears up. Doesn’t leave me with much really…

Nothing but a blank page and a perfect reason to get this blog up and running. So this is it! The official beginning to the Phnom Penh Chronicles...

The Opening Act

Winter comes
And my feet are weary of wear
In the cold dawn
My soul feels frozen by the air
And all those feelings
That make me so prone to roam
Start hibernating
And my mind starts missing home
The wind is strong now
And it sings me to sleep at night
Where my warm dreams
Take my gypsy soul in flight
To the ocean
To the mountains and the plains
And my feet start
Wanting to roam again
Like a circle
That never knows an end
A gypsy's freedom
Will always surface again
And in the springtime
With the blooming of the rose
I'll pack my bags up
And I'll take again to the road


I wrote that while picking cotton on a cold winter day in Lubbock, Texas. It was a fitting description for the last year of my life and a fitting beginning for my new journey abroad. This time around, there will be less movement and more learning. Less travel and more experience. Less to see and more to do. I can't promise that my entries will be as exciting or varied but bare with me...

They say every journey starts with a single step. Consider this the first of many...

Love from the road...