A haiku: am in Cambuja; white people all around me; temples at my feet. And: recession hits hard; Europe no longer ideal; let's exploit third world

A quick note on my developing skills in poetry.

I was in Cambodia (or Cambuja as they used to call it in the days of yore) for half a fortnight. Being a third world country, there was not much access to internet. I did find one cafe called "The Blue Pumpkin" in Siem Reap where I was able to check my email on my handy dandy iPod touch, or as I like to call it, my first born child. I hoped to be able to post in my blog as well because I knew that some of you would be waiting with breath that is bated to read new tales of me via 'nam. Well, at least I knew that Aileen was since she sent me about 27 emails in 3 days wondering if I was still alive and threatening to dismember me if I didn't write soon. So I tried to write a post, but alas, my first born would only let me write in the subject line. I decided to make the most of the little space I had and compose two haikus. No father, I was not drunk when I wrote them. It was 11 in the morning. No father, nor was a hungover.

Basically I meant to say that I was visiting the temples at Angkor Wat and that there were more Westerners than Cambodians in the small town where I was staying. The favored currency is the US dollar. You can tell a local from a Westerner not only by the color of their skin or the way they talk, but by the number of limbs they have. Two legs, two arms=Westerner. One hand, two feet=Cambodian. Ten fingers, two ears=Westerner. One eye, no feet=Cambodian. You think I'm joking. I'm not.

I now have to plan for a class, so I will write later. Miss you all.