Yesterday I met up with my old tuk-tuk driver (a tuk-tuk is like a motorcycle rickshaw) from when the three of us went to Angkor Wat. He, Mr. Meth, took me to his family's house to eat dinner and then out to drink. I met his mother, who is a nun, and was primed beforehand on how to greet her in Khmer and wai to her. His family makes extra money off of a betel nut plantation behind their house. It's a lot of boiling and peeling then slicing before you can chew the soft insides, which have huge amounts of caffeine and work as an appetite suppressant. Chewing it is not although unpleasant.
Being the only white guy in the village, the locals came to say hello, the children practiced their English and I ate more than once. The night was cool, the palms swayed and the hum of prayer and conversation came in from nearby homes.