Perched at the junction of the Mekong, Bassac, and Tonle Sap rivers, Phnom Penh was a colorful tapestry of Khmer and French Indochina colonialism, evident in every aspect of daily life. Legend had it that the city was named after an old lady known as Daun Penh, meaning “Old lady Penh,” with Phnom being the Khmer word for hill. Within Southeast Asia, that was a must-visit city full of color, fascination, and learning.

After settling into our place for the night at You Khin House in Phnom Penh, we hurriedly went out to explore the city. We planned to check out the Genocide Museum first, but our tuk-tuk driver misheard our instructions and instead took us to the Phnom Penh National Museum. We did not mind since we would still have another day to spare in that city, on the way back to Saigon from Siem Reap later in the week.

Since I had arrived a day earlier than my brother in Ho Chi Minh, I spent the whole day walking around the city. I had a blast getting myself immersed in a new place which hurriedly became familiar to me. From crossing the street with a sea of motorcycles whose drivers never slowed down, I had become an expert in not getting run over after a few attempts. I had also politely rejected motorcycle drivers' and rickshaw operators' offers of rides, as I just told them, "I am just walking around."