When we arrived in Phnom Penh, I could barely keep my eyes from closing. One glimpse and you will never be ordinary again. I feel guilty for what I have. I feel guilty to have the freedom to go where I please and move as I want. Last night, I saw bare-bottomed babies sitting in the gutters. I saw war amputees and mothers begging with babies lying listlessly in their arms. Everywhere I look, I see rich Westerners staying in five star hotels and averting their gaze from the destitute that line the streets. I won’t close my eyes to this. I’ve told John to hold on to all the money, because I’d probably give it all away. Everyone needs help here. We’ve limited ourselves to one person a day, but the choices are difficult. Who do we give to? Who is most needy? How can we be the judges? Last night, we ate while little children sat in rags on the street. I couldn’t finish my meal and gave the rest of mine to them.