|a postcard from the edge|
She walked up to Sam as we were leaving Angkor Wat. It was getting dark and the visitors were hurrying home. "Buy postcard, Miss?" she asked. "No, thank you, we don't need postcards" Sam hurried on. And when the young postcard seller persisted - "how about dinner?" Sam offered. It took a moment for the offer to sink in before accepting. "Ok". She looked 13 but could well have been 16 or older.
Afterwards, from our tuk-tuk back to the hotel, I caught a glimpse of our postcard seller on her bike - her packet of noodles and bottle of Coke hanging from the handle-bars. She turned off onto a dirt road. I tried to keep track of her in between the silhouette of trees until she disappeared into the dusk.
Later the evening, Sam told me that the girl had 'paid' for her dinner with a postcard.