The School of Hard Knocks

Siem Reap, Cambodia:

My growling stomach reminded me I hadn't eaten dinner. I walked about 10 minutes from my guest house to a sidewalk restaurant that stays open late and ordered a plate of fried rice with pork, a bottle of water and an Angkor beer. A healthy meal that includes all your major food groups for $2.50.

Music was blaring from the bar across the street, and vendors from the various food stalls called out to passersby as tuk-tuk drivers solicited tourists with offers of transportation or drugs or sex...or all three. And there were dozens of street kids, many of them carrying sleeping babies on their hips, approaching travelers like me and asking for money.

Right about then I felt a thud underneath my table, and as I looked down I came face to filthy face with a kid who was foraging for bottle caps. His clothes looked like he'd been working in a coal mine. He consolidated his collection of caps into one fist, put on a pitiful face worthy of an Academy Award, and held out his empty, grubby palm.

I couldn't do it.

I couldn't turn him away like I've done with dozens of other kids in 8 different countries over the past several months. I told him to pull up a chair. He ordered the largest item on the menu, which would have fed a ravenous lumberjack...but the waitress told him he could have a chicken thigh and drumstick. When it arrived, he attacked his plate with the fervor of someone who's just been rescued from a desert island.

His name is Nam Chan and he's six years old. It was close to midnight.

Nam Chan's meal was bigger than his head. He ate what he could, and got a take-out box for the rest, and went on his way. As I walked back to my guesthouse to the accompaniment of "You want tuk tuk? You want motorcycle? You want marijuana? You want massage? You want lady?", I saw Nam Chan in front of a convenience store. He came running up to me, jumped into my arms and said "You buy me milk!?"

The needs of the children in this country would fill a bottomless pit.

I've seen just a glimpse of the "before" and "after" version of these kids. I've spent the last couple of weeks volunteering at Anjali House, an organization which provides education, meals and a healthy environment to kids who would otherwise be roaming the city streets 'til the wee hours, going from bar to restaurant to bar selling souvenirs and flowers to drunk tourists.

Some of the kids ride to and from Anjali House in a tuk tuk, which is not exactly like the bus you rode as a kid. To find out more about the work being done here, and what you can do to help keep these kids off the street, visit www.anjali-house.com