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Some of them have a more oblique approach. ''My name Nom, what your name?''
''Kathy.''
''Kassie? You buy cold drinks only from me - you remember my name Nom.''
It's an order not a request, and - smiling broadly - she's still on the selling pitch. 'You buy scarf? I give you three scarfs five dollars. Best price from me.'
I've learnt the Cambodian for 'No, thank you', but whichever language you say it in they follow you, still calling until you reach the policeman at the gateway who inspects your pass. But you can still hear their voices. 'Kassie, I remember you. You buy only from me when you come back!'' And when you do return an entire flock of children runs towards you, all laughing and shouting 'Kassie, Kassie, you buy only from me!!!'
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Nom, like her friends Maria and Tao, is about eleven and doesn't go to school (schooling has to be paid for in Cambodia). She's acquiring a very different education - the art of getting tourists to part with their cash. She can sell you anything in four languages. Inside the temples there are other children - girls of six or seven lugging infant siblings with huge, bush-baby eyes and solemn faces. They beg for money or sweets and biscuits. Some of them are orphans from the many orphanages around Siem Reap.
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You can't help wondering what the future holds for these young people; it surely has to be better than this.
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