Finally, the explorer, caught in Mara’s illusions, lost all sense of self. His identity dissolved into a haze of confusion, and he became a mere vessel, adrift in a sea of unreality. The man’s purpose vanished, and the jungle mourned the loss of his once-promising presence.
The monk stopped talking and looked at us. At this moment, his face was less friendly, and he stared at us like a predator watching his prey.
Taken aback by the monk and the uncomfortable situation, I said, “This is a fascinating story.”
The monk acknowledged me with a nod.
The bus arrived at our stop. We all climbed inside. It was busy with Khmer people and families. We were the only foreigners. The monk disappeared into the back of the crowded bus. We sat near the front. It was a quiet five-hour ride until we reached Battambang.
#
Once we arrived in Battambang, pandemonium hit us. The bus station was so crowded and loud, with people walking and yelling in all directions and kids on their scooters soliciting us non-stop to drive us anywhere. We got our backpacks from the under-storage compartment in the middle of a suffocating crowd, and the heat was unbearable. I could see Lucille’s face pained by the discomfort. I hailed a couple of scooter drivers and asked them to take us to our hostel.
We checked in at reception, got the keys to our room, dropped off our backpacks, took a short breather, and finally ventured out into the city. Every street led to a different neighbourhood, every neighbourhood had its restaurants and little shops, and it started to look like a maze. After a while, we decided to take a break in a café.
It had been a hot day. I could tell Lucille was tired and preoccupied. “Do you miss Toronto and your apartment?” she asked.
“Sometimes,” I responded.
“I miss Zilla,” she added.
The truth is, I couldn’t exactly picture the chihuahua anymore. I also briefly forgot my apartment address. I hadn’t thought about my workplace and co-workers for the longest time. I couldn’t remember the names of some of them either. It was the strangest feeling.
“I don’t know about this trip and this lifestyle anymore…” Lucille said. Then she suddenly grabbed her phone, connected to the wifi and started to check her emails and social media, almost frenetically.
I ordered a rum and coke, then realized I don’t drink that stuff. Lucille knew I didn’t drink but hadn’t batted an eye.
For the evening, I found out about a restaurant with a view of the jungle. I thought it could reinvigorate us and our relationship. I hoped to discuss things to see in Battambang and how to end this trip in the best way possible and save our sanity. Lucille agreed to go.
