Srey Nit

It’s a long walk to school for Srey Nit aged 5. She treads the dusty dirt track from her village, emerging on the bustling main street of Stung Mean Chey on the outskirts of Phnom Penh. The air is thick. Exhaust fumes hang heavy in the air and there is a lingering smell, allowing passersby to know that the dump site isn’t too far away. Dodging through the legs of buyers and sellers alike, Srey Nit respectfully stops to allow 3 monks to pass. Dressed in their traditional burnt ochre robes, they were collecting their morning alms. She stares greedily into their bowls, breathing in the aroma of their freshly cooked rice. Her mother didn’t have enough money for breakfast that morning. Srey Nit darts out onto the road, weaving her way through a constant stream of tuk tuks, motos, taxis, cars and trucks, all jostling for position. A constant barrage of sound chases her across the 4 lanes of traffic, until the roar of the trucks engines, the spluttering of motos and yelling of passenger and pedestrian alike, starts to fade away.
Srey Nit didn’t want to be late for class, there was a new teacher today. Excitedly, she ran up the dirt road towards her school, waving and smiling at the stall sellers on the side of the road. A wind started up behind her, urging her on. Little pebbles, picked up by the wind began stinging her back through the rip in her blouse. Bringing closer the smell of the dump.
Turning the corner, she slowed to a walk. The smell of decaying food, discarded rubbish and an open sewer greets her as she heads towards her classroom. Srey Nit’s school is built on the dump site. Treading carefully so as not to startle the goats foraging for food, she enters her classroom and takes her seat. 3rd row from the front. One of 57 students, Srey Nit eagerly awaits her new teacher, who would give her the opportunity to learn English, her first doll, new clothes, toothpaste and food. I was the teacher that gave her the doll. But what Srey Nit gave me, was so much more.