'Phnom Penh today is like any busy South-East Asian city. Almost. Around the
crumbling French mansions and washing-laden tenements, the sounds of construction
vie with the melodies of hawkers, the growl of motos, the shouts of pedestrians. But
its traffic doesn’t have the frantic breakneck press of Hanoi; it lacks the towering high rises of Bangkok or Kuala Lumpur. Ghosts of loss fill the empty spaces between taxis and four-wheel drives, between the not quite crowded sidewalks. Something is missing. Someone. Many someones. ...'