For nearly a century, an ochre Art Deco dome has watched over Phnom Penh and over one of the most photographed markets in Southeast Asia — born from a drained swamp, scarred by bombs, and saved just in time by a French-Cambodian renovation.

A betel leaf, a sliver of areca nut, a touch of lime paste. Nothing could look simpler — and yet this small bundle has accompanied Cambodians for generations, from the neighbourhood market to the most codified wedding ceremonies. From Cambodia to Vietnam, by way of Taiwan and southern China, betel chewing tells a story shared across a large part of Asia — and not quite the one people usually imagine.

From the rice paddies of the Tonlé Sap to the smoking stalls of Skun, all the way to the fine-dining tables of Siem Reap, Cambodia has cultivated a singular relationship with insects for centuries. Neither a sideshow curiosity nor a mere relic of famine, Khmer entomophagy tells a story of resilience, craft and, increasingly, science. A deep dive into a tradition that may yet help feed the future.

A short distance from the capital, on the calm banks of the Bassac River, the village of Kaoh Anlong Chen unfolds its papaya and jackfruit orchards, golden pagodas, and river life — almost sheltered from the urban sprawl that is nonetheless gaining ground.

In the Cardamom Mountains, in Koh Kong province, a concrete bridge spans the Tatai River. Below it, motorized longtail boats, roadside vendors, and traveling musicians keep alive a riverine way of life that the road, and later the sand dredgers, nearly swept away.

Between giant fruit bats, half-submerged water buffalo, and pre-Angkorian ruins swallowed by the forest, the Stung Sen River has watered the heart of Cambodia for over a thousand years — and quietly keeps sustaining one of the country's least-visited regions.

Bernard has sung the same Khmer song at the same karaoke bar for three years. He still doesn't understand a single word of it. In his own eyes, he's a local star — a title that, in his mind, now sits right alongside King of the Bar Stool.

Régis spent twenty years bouncing between unemployment and odd jobs in the South of France. At forty-three, he lands in Cambodia and becomes, somewhere over the course of a Paris-Phnom Penh flight, an "international development strategy expert." His accent, for its part, made the trip without losing a single syllable — and has, if anything, gotten considerably thicker since.

Founder of Thaung Enterprise, Thyda Thaung discusses building a Cambodian brand around natural Kampot sea salt, the role of women in entrepreneurship, promoting Cambodian products internationally, balancing tradition with modernity, and her message to the next generation of women founders. Interview originally published in Cambodia Leadership Review — Khmer Women Voices 2026.