So I gave money to a little girl today outside a Temple near Siem Reap in Cambodia. I wouldn't even bother mentioning it, let alone writing an entry about it, except I can't remember the last time I gave someone money. I'm not an especially empathetic individual so when I see human suffering I tend to be unperturbed by it. Maybe it's the effect of seeing terrible terrible things in my life, or maybe I'm just a cold-hearted bastard but pity is not something that's ever genuinely aroused in me. I didn't give this little girl money out of pity, she earned it. I find people interesting. Especially their motives, their goals, and how they go about fufiling their desires. Most people are fairly predictable, especially when they're placed in a repititious environment. Take a little girl who tries everyday to sell gewgaws and bijou's to passing tourists. I've been accosted hundreds of times in the last few days and thousands if not tens of thousands of times in my life. It's nothing new. They want your money and they'll beg, steal, cheat, and sell to get it from you. Some are better at it then others. This little girl was special. She was an ugly thing, as only gangly little girls can be. Dusky hair framed an unpromising face surrounding a slightly upturned nose that rested atop a large mouth filled with mismatched teeth. From her size she seemed 6 but an child looking an American 6 was most likely 9 or 10 in this country. I watched her out of the corner of my eye as I stepped from my air conditioned van, her eyes darted into the cool interior and examined what I had left on my seat: a video camera case, a large rucksack, a guidebook, and a novel (Murakami). Once the van had closed she joined the chorus of children pleading with me to buy their wares, plastic gadgets, scarves, bottle openers, painted wooden bead bracelets were all thrust up at me while a complex of children's voices called out ridiculous prices. Ignoring the children I walked through them towards the temple entrance where a stern faced guard kept them away with a glance. An hour later when I exited the temple grounds she was there waiting for me. Walking up to me she used the common ploy of saying "Hello". This may not seem like a ploy but when someone greets you, your automatic response is to greet them back, this forces you to acknowledge the person and basically opens up a means for them to harangue you about whatever it is they are offering to you for money. I stopped for a moment and thought about ignoring her, then decided that I couldn't be that rude so I turned, looked down, and greeted her back. "Hello" I replied in a distant voice, waiting for her to make her predictable gouge. "Where are you from?" I internally grimaced at this. She knew I wanted to end the conversation as soon as possible so she was steering it in a direction where I couldn't easily end it. She was trying to start a repartee with me so I would feel bad and buy something from her, trying to create an empathetic link with me. I thought about this as I scratched my jawline and reviewed my possible responses. If I replied with America her return question would be where in America, if I said California she would also ask where in, if I said San Francisco there would be an excellent chance that she wouldn't know what that was and shift topics. "San Francisco" "Is this the capital?" I sighed and began walking away from her. Speaking straight ahead I replied, "Of California, yea", hoping to head off a conversation about Sacramento. From behind and below came the surprising correction "No, Sacramento is the capital of California". I couldn't help but grin. She had set up a trap for me, knew I wanted out of the conversation and had asked me a question she already knew the answer to. Blanking my face I turned to her and listened as she prattled off all the knowledge she had of America, "300 millions people, feefty states, first Cleenton, then Obma." I knew she expected me to correct her because she had made the mistake at the end of the sentence. When people list things they tend to put the 'first' or important thing, at the end. I looked down at her, and for the first time, showed her a smile, then pausing to let her know I knew what she was doing, I corrected her, "No, Clinton then Bush, then Obama". Grinning ridiculously up at me with her scarecrow teeth, "You buy book I give you good price" thrusting a guidebook up at me. Wary of her cunning I looked over to her store area and looked at her other wares resting in the dust. I took a moment to respond, looking at the other items she had stored, and which items she had specifically picked up to bring to me when I exited the temple. In her arms she had all books. Noisily she was cycling through them as I pondered her choice of wares. Then I remembered her inquisitive stare into the van as I alighted, while other children where pestering me she was observing my seat on the van. Grinning I remembered the two books I had there, that plus my spectacles must have made her bet I'd be interested in books. Smiling again I looked down at her and she said a phrase the broke through my musings. "They killed my father first." My smile fled in an instant and my mind flashed with annoyance. Here we were having a perfectly civil and intelligent sparring match and she had to go and ruin it by trying to appeal to my emotions, instantly calloused I straightened up to leave my face once again blank. "I geeve you goo price". What an odd sentence to follow the last one up with, I looked down to read her face and saw a white book being shoved at me entitled, you guessed it, "They Killed my Father First". Smarmy little girl had gotten my attention again. Relieved she was still sparring and not demeaning herself I took the book from her to inspect it, "Congratulations, you got my attention" I told her in a warm voice. Pretending to read the back I asked in a far off voice, "Is this book good?". From behind the cover I heard the piping "Izz veery goo". Moving the cover from between our faces I smiled triumphantly down at her "Oh, so you can read English?" She paused a split second before responding "no". Deciding to finish her off quickly I then asked her how then she knew it was good. I watched her face closely now, this was the interesting moment. She could either admit she was lying or come up with another lie. Quickly, and almost without hesitation, she told me another tourist had said it was good, a tooth filled grin punctuating her sentence and escape from my trap. "Oh, so a tourist came, bought your book, then a few days later came back and told you it was good?" Her face fell and just as quickly rebounded up into an impish grin as she looked up at me. I grinned back at her to tell her that there were no hard feelings. "Sorry, but I'm not interested in anything" "I geev you goo price!" "Sorry, but I really don't want anything" "You waan nothing?" "Yes" "Ok, I sell you nothing, 2 dolla" I laughed at that. I would have bet my little toe that she had never read the Odessy and yet my little Odysseus here was working me over. "How much for the book?" I asked resignedly. She showed me the back where the printed price stated 17.95. I laughed at her and told her that was not a good price. She said it was the price in the bookstore, to which I responded by looking around and matter-o-factly informing her that we were currently not in a bookstore. Piping back she immediately asked for 10 dollars instead. I told her that this was not a good price I had been promised. I began to walk off again and she rejoined with 8 dollars. Smiling at her I said that this was a better price, but still not a good price. Two steps later she said 6 dollars. I knew from experience that I could probably get the book for 2 dollars. Making up my mind I walked began to walk over to wear her mother was squatting by her wares. I asked her quietly on the way, "Are you still selling nothing?", "Yes" she replied eagerly. "I'll give you 4 dollars for the book, and 6 dollars for nothing, ok?" "Ok" Moving within earshot of her mother I said, loudly, "Here is the four dollars for the book", and handed her 4 dollars with my left hand, with my right hand, hidden from the mother, I said in a softer voice and here is for nothing, giving her 6 dollars. As I left she called out "Thank you" and I responded with, "Thanks for nothing". | 
