As I was carving up an onion this evening, I was reminded of our group's time in Cambodia. At the risk of sounding poetic, let me explain. From the outside, Cambodia looks like an onion: plain enough, perhaps even interesting. But as you start to peel back the layers you begin to tear up at what you find: the skulls left by the gruesome Khmer Rouge murders, political corruption and widespread poverty. On our first night in Siem Reap, four of us walked a few blocks to the French Quarter. Along the disheveled street, we were accosted by one-legged beggars, children tugging at our pant-legs, and men offering "boom-boom" services from their mistresses. This dark reality of Cambodia contrasted starkly with any preconceived notions we had about the serenity and beauty of this place. I teared up when a 12-year old boy, covered in dirt, his shirt in shreds, jumped up and grabbed my arm. He walked with me half a block tugging on my shirt and mumbling the only words he knew in English, "Sir... please... sir..."

Everywhere we went, they were there. We stepped out of a restaurant and they swarmed around us. Sitting on our tour bus, they hawked their wares and pressed against us when we alighted. What is this place? Where is the government, the education system, the infrastructure? All of the money pouring into Cambodia and Siem Reap has seemingly not made its way down to the people. Resort hotels, charging American prices, clutter the roadway from the airport. Many properties run their own generators and water supplies -- public utilities are a undependable here. Development in Siem Reap seems anarchic and chaotic.

Nevertheless, there is beautiy. It lies just 6 km away in the collection of over 100 temples that date as far back as 1,100 years. Built by the Hindu god–kings that also embraced Buddhism, the Angkor Wat temples have a lost-city fantasy about them. (Have you seen Angelina Jolie's "Tomb Raider" that is filmed on location?) Our bus takes us around to various temples and we expend serious amounts of sweat climbing them. The air is thick and hot. By the time 2PM hits, most of the other tourists have sought shelter from the heat, but we press on behind our guide, Socratie.

Massive stone doorways with intricate carvings offer some coolness. There's a small Buddhist nun inside who offers us a few sticks of incense to say a prayer to the headless Buddha. That Angkor Wat is falling apart only adds to its allure. Shards of light cut through holes in the walls and ceiling beams. Gargantuan trees and their roots swallow up entire rooms. The rubble has a mystical order to it all.

Even though I'm drenched in my own sweat, I'm peaceful. At the last temple, we climb to the top and watch the sun set over the temple complex. While the orange sky is beautiful, it's also remorseful, reminding me of what awaits when I climb down the stairs.