Apsaras

The sweltering 95 degree heat didn't deter me from biking almost 30 miles in and around Angkor Wat.  Dusty back streets spotted with Khmer Restaurants and Electric Bike Stations for motorcycle repair were frequently seen on the journey.  Dead pigs strapped to the back of the motorcycles, legs flailing in the air, is not a sight I will soon forget.  The temples off the beaten path were less crowded and in states of greater disrepair.  Heavenly creatures graced the walls and  paths.  Children ran to us the second we dismounted our bikes selling postcards, bracelets, instruments and trinkets.  "For you madam, 10 postcards for a dollar."  Another girl, not older than 8, offered to tell me the president of my country, as well as the population and capital of my state.  Only if she answered these questions correctly would I have to buy her book.  As a flock of girls followed me through the ruins I asked a women selling shirts and clothes if these were her daughters.  "Yes."  "They're beautiful," I responded.  "Would you like to take one home with you?"  My friend and I both looked at each other, confirming what the other heard, an oddly sincere offer.