I am from boat and net
from stinky prahok and fishy p’ork
I am from the beautiful black wood wall
wind waving through, smells like champa of the ancient angkor
I am from the green young banana tree ,
The gigantic bayan
whose long messy hair I remember
as if they were from horror movies.
I’m from old smoking pipe and hundred year mysterious book
from my grandfather broken abacus and my grandma black wooden walking stick
I’m from education and religion and
from Chinese-Cambodian whose skin can blend with the night
I’m from righteous and respect and “Tok tok pen’g bom ponk”
I’m from Buddhism and taoism
I’m from the port of the Chams and minced pork with p’ork
From my grandma lies to the “Samak Met”,
the blacket she gave me when she left The hole that was drilled when I was young, the black-white film, the photos that covered in dusk and her smile in my head.