A Journeyman Remembers

… past the opening of the concrete WC and stepping carefully over the broken earth. The sky had darkened as the sun relented and the air was pleasant to breath. Our lips were cracked and throats dry from the bone-dry air that matched the scorched lifeless ground below us. It was my first dry season where rehydrating is a practice that never quenches but only is sent immediately to the front by the body to deal with a perpetually depleted carcass. Wendy walked a bit ahead with Natalie following behind with me in tow. The kids from the camp who usually were always clamoring for a finger to grab onto or a back to ride on had filtered away as the day had worn on and now must had returned to their tarpaulin shelters to divide up the rations. These pumps were ingenious. Ridden like a bicycle to urge water up out of the always sinking water table. There were two of them and we were coming bye them on a trip around the camp one last time before we drove back the thirty minute drive home. We did not say much as talking required effort and we were all relived that we were able to walk without being accosted by request or chores. I stopped by the first pump to take it all in but how could one. A never ending flood plain stretching in all directions with palm trees dotting the landscape. The displaced people here always seemed jittery and they had much to be jittery about. When the rains returned in the summer all indications were that this hastily built refuge would be under water if sickness or an indifferent government did not get them first. Stars were beginning to break out on the low horizon and those are images one never forgets. The skyscapes were always so stunning at Prey Sol especially at this time of night when a schism sky gave both day and night. Natalie was near me and we began to talk about the day and of things that might take out minds far from here. Wendy was walking past the other well to speak to a family who were outside their tent. I looked at Natalie intently as she shared things that seemed so important in this strange place with a beautiful sky and BOOM. The shockwave flashed by us and all three of us instantly jerked our heads towards the sound that followed soon afterwards. A small plume of smoke was already visible off in the distance, out of sight. We looked around and tensed as the moment provided no quick answers to calm our fears. Our roles as sojourners and aliens in this land and especially in such a place of woe and juxtaposed realities as this caused our first reactions to be defense and anxiety. The people though paid us no heed and were instead rushing out of the camp towards an area out ahead. We could hear them whispering and calling out in hushed tones as they moved past us into the gathering darkness. Landmine. We did not follow because we feared and because we knew that darkness meant our exit from the camp. The head lights of our truck blazed a trail as we began the journey back across the dike and over the Bassac. We three never mentioned the event again to each other and we never knew, never knew. Answers are never easy in such a place as….