I don’t know who he is, nor his age. He’s probably a little younger than me, which means he was a teenager in the Seventies. I don’t know his history, what dreams he dreams or nightmares he lives through. What I know, is that he gives of his time, that he meets me and my camera with a friendly smile, and that somehow we can relate.
It happens in Cambodia all the time. Without a common language the only way of contact is through shared time, a smile and a handshake.