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Cambodia Summer Program.

Iron Cow

You sit on top of a wood board covered by a bamboo sheet. The wheels bump against the land  we call “Cambodia” and sway you. You feel the sun on your face, arms and chest. You sense beads of sweat tumbling down the nape of your neck and your cheeks. You rock along with the rhythm of the tractor and close your eyes slightly. You let the warmth linger on your lids, leaving a pink ring on the darkness before your eyes.

You blink your eyes open to a massive, awesome green. Such a striking and brilliant sea of greenness that you stare, unblinking, at the color. You stare at shirtless men plowing the fields, women with dark thick braids carrying baskets, children waving their hands from behind their fathers’ motorcycle, and cows, brown and white, staring at you with milky eyes. You feel the corners of your mouth lift up, and you see smiles as brilliant as the sun covering you. You hum beneath the roar of the iron cow: it’s a nameless tune, familiar yet foreign, but your heart soars. You laugh.