In Kampot, Cambodia, things are relatively calm. The pace of life is a slow trot at best. This fellow came up to us at lunch while we were eating, and had a really nice energy about him. My partner Rose actually saw people chase him in the street to give him some money. Later on that evening I saw him sitting on the riverbank and with his permission, I took this photo.
He had lesions on his body, down his arm and on his hands. One can only speculate what they were caused by. We saw him a few days later on the outskirts of town as we were leaving for Phnom Penh, on the back of a ute crammed with other children and workers.
What happens to someone like this in Cambodia without medical care, schooling or a home? The same thing that happens all over the world to people like this, most likely. Destined to be a beggar for the rest of his life, locked into the poverty cycle and institutionalised by immediate necessity. Or maybe there’s a slim chance, a glimmer of hope, that this boy might get out and do something important with his life, have a family and make it out of the trap of impoverished existence.
Does this kid even know he can make something of himself, or is it just arrogant and naive of me to even assume anything I’ve just written has any relevance to him? Moral relativity messes with my judgement constantly, but it goes into overdrive when thinking about this type of thing.
I just hope he’s doing okay.
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Vince.
ONEMETRICVINCENT 