The boredom of waiting for information on the killers, or for a reply from the general as to the meeting, was broken by the need to return to Chamkar Chek for the 7th day ceremony. The family had decided to hold the ceremony at the pagoda as Aya had been so loved by the villagers that to not have an open ceremony would have been too exclusive. We drove down the day before so as to be up at dawn for the start of the ceremony and the family received us with tears. It was strange how much I felt a true part of this family unit that was so alien to my upbringing in London, but I perhaps felt more at home with them than I had with my own extended family outside of my mum, dad, and brothers.
We sat outside the house in the early evening with the usual feast of Khmer food spread out before us an
