The first time I felt the
concept of Kâmtéa was back when I was twelve
years old. I spent the summer on The Island of Bute, we had a cabin on Bogany
Farm. There were around sixty cabins, and families would visit on two-week
vacations.
The year in question I
met new friends whom we shared many hours with. We made a tree swing in the
woods, and we would talk for hours on end. Bonds would form, but when you are
twelve years old, such bonds are so easily broken when we are under the
authority of our guardians.
You see, my friends would
have to return home, and I would be left as lonely as an empty pocket with only
the moon and stars for company.
The song, Cottonfields
by Creedence Clearwater Revival played frequently on the radio that year and
every time I hear it now, I still feel that sense of Kâmtéa
welling up.
Kâmtéa in the Khmer language captures
a deep emotional state, often associated with sadness, mourning, or the
experience of loss.
Good Evening Cambodia! I like your word, Kâmtéa (កំទេរ)
Image by https://unsplash.com/@owen_was
The first time I felt the concept of Kâmtéa was back when I was twelve years old. I spent the summer on The Island of Bute, we had a cabin on Bogany Farm. There were around sixty cabins, and families would visit on two-week vacations.
The year in question I met new friends whom we shared many hours with. We made a tree swing in the woods, and we would talk for hours on end. Bonds would form, but when you are twelve years old, such bonds are so easily broken when we are under the authority of our guardians.
You see, my friends would have to return home, and I would be left as lonely as an empty pocket with only the moon and stars for company.
The song, Cottonfields by Creedence Clearwater Revival played frequently on the radio that year and every time I hear it now, I still feel that sense of Kâmtéa welling up.
Kâmtéa in the Khmer language captures a deep emotional state, often associated with sadness, mourning, or the experience of loss.