Learn about the Apsara Dancers, Cambodian children seeking a brighter future.
Help give them an education and improve their daily lives so that these fledglings can grow their own wings and fly.
As the Pandaw IV was hit by a powerful wind of up to 150 kph the vessel suddenly heeled at an angle of 35 to 40 degrees. It wasn’t a good sign…
How a German photojournalist is helping children in need to get an education in Cambodia and how buying from my Vietnam series will help.
I’ve been watching some nature programs lately made by the great BBC.
I have now compiled a list of animals that are….
” Better Than Us ”.
This is the Cheetah.
It can run at speeds of up to 50 miles a…
I just thought I’d let you know there is a new member to RB worthy of attention.
My mate John Ambata from the Philippines has decided to exhibit his work on here. His style and passion…
The intelligent boys soon realized they were not being treated as menial servants but as fellow humans – and above all as children
Returning to the dappled Temple and bringing offerings on numerous occasions, many absorbing hours went by in the tranquility of this sacred oasis.
A profound understanding of birth and death, touched me in that moment.
The island of Koh Panghan had become quite an intriguing location; Haad Rin beach was a place to encounter engaging sights and sounds.
I believe they met with the Medicine Buddha!
what is life..
a jumbled riddle..
had heard of this angel
who swings the wand
and changes things around
I walked to her with a storm in my head
the golden one as they said
revealed the frustration, fear
and got a patient ear
her you go my…
The many vendors rushed up to the advancing train and stepped on board before it even stopped – selling tea, sandwiches, puri, samosas and the many assorted snacks and drinks.
Tranquility and grace filled the room as she wiped the tears away with the end of her sari and lifted her face to meet our eyes. It was a soulful moment.
The desperation displayed so plainly on the man’s face cut into our hearts’ and even more tragic was the habitual zombie-like expression on the boy’s face.
Show me a ‘miracle’ story, and I will show you one hundred hungry mouths.
he, developed a boot, strong,
to walk through minefields, unhurt,
without any Diane dough;
i remember it well; he
had mum’s maiden name, a Vaz,
and he was of singapore
As I stood at the rail of the RV Pandaw IV looking towards Katha in Burma, I wondered how George Orwell must have felt living in tbhisremote Upper Irrawaddy river port.