When I am Old, I Will Wear Yellow

Barb was on my bus from Bangkok to Siem Reap, Cambodia. She was a tall woman in her 70's who wore a black travel vest spiced up with a large yellow fabric flower and yellow cap to match. Later she told me she had 3 hats and 12 wigs - always wearing one. There's no need to worry about your hair.

When she traveled she left the collection at home, however, Her bag was impressively small (about 1/2 the size of mine). I imagine she had learned to travel light after visiting 140 countries since retirement, most of the time depending on public transportation and hostels. She had been headed to Iran September 11th.

This time, she was on her way to Cambodia as part of a larger trip to Burma (after the government started shooting monks in the street, a change of plans was going to take her to Laos or Vietnam). She tried to make Cambodia part of many of her trips after first coming in 1991. At that time Pol Pot still had power in some of the Northern areas of Cambodia and she and her husband paid $20/day U.S. for the privilege of not being shot while in the area around Angkor Wat. At that time she met a 13-year old boy named Barang who spoke English and French. He was busing tables at a restaurant and struggling to pay for school. His mother made only $12 a month and his father had been killed by the Khmer Rouge when he was an infant.

Barb and her husband were so taken with Barang that they offered to pay for his schooling on three conditions:

1) He emailed regularly to keep in touch
2) He sent them his grades and kept performing well
3) And if his mother agreed

They journeyed out to his village to ask his mother. She was, of course, overjoyed and their friendship began. Only later did Barb discover that they had crossed into Pol Pot's territory and the taxi driver, the mother or anyone else could have turned them in for $25,000 US a head. Instead they returned safe and began sending small amounts of money for schooling and necessities. When they sent too much, Barang always returned the change.

As Barang got older he had the grades to go to university, but not the funds. Barb and her husband talked it over and agreed to pay. Right before graduation Barang's mother died of TB and they became his closest "family." They wrote a letter of recommendation to his prospective bride and made the trip to Cambodia to give him away at the wedding. They were now on their way back to see Barang and his lovely wife (former Miss Cambodia).

On this trip, Barb's husband (age 87) had flown from Bangkok rather than taking the land crossing. But Barb had brought friends who were ripe to experience their style of "adventure travel" and she insisted they needed the overland experience - a 7-hour ride on a bumpy 165 km stretch of dirt road. Although ready to be off the bus, I believe her friends, a former corporate executive for Tiffany's and former insurer of Tiffany's, appreciated the experience.

It was with such grace and humility that Barb told her stories. She had a smile and a spirit that even the most hardened criminal would not be able to cheat in good conscience. I will consider myself lucky if someday I have even half the experiences and spirit as Barb. She truly was an inspiration.