We’ve sold or given away most of our stuff (once again), but we simply couldn’t leave Phnom Penh without bequeathing a bunch of intangibles to the nearest and dearest in our adoptive city.
Sarath Chhay – To my closest Cambodian friend and former boss at Cambodians for Resource Revenue Transparency, I leave a Microsoft Office manual with a dog-eared page highlighting the easiest ways to cut and paste lengthy documents. I also leave a pack of matches with which to ignite all the reports we wrote together and a permanent link to the Long Vibol Motel on my Facebook page to direct travelers to your motel’s door in Mondulkiri.
Ramon Stoppelenburg – I leave you with a wish that some Cambodian mother will realize that the new mountain bike that her thieving son mysteriously brought home actually belongs to you, and in a rare fit of civic mindedness she makes her son return it to you along with a pledge to clean Peri Peri’s catbox with his bare hands for the remainder of your time in Cambodia. In addition, you get my old phone with Vicious Cycle on Street 144 on speed dial and a virtual lesson in how to properly use my frame pump. I also leave you what energy I have left to expend in Cambodia, as I know you will put it to good use to the benefit of all the people who surround you. 
John Pike – To my dear, erudite and horribly understated barrister/investment banker friend, I leave a dose of my insufferably liberal opinions, if not to offset your knuckle-dragging conservative inclinations then to infect you with a more balanced view in order to keep you vaguely aware of reality. I also leave you a 12 hp Briggs and Stratton lawn mower engine for you to affix to your bicycle so you have a chance of keeping up when we next ride our bikes together.
Matthew Fairfax – We’ve already given you our fiber optic Christmas tree, dishes and glasses as well as our nifty, well-utilized rice cooker, so there’s only one thing to leave you with that will prove invaluable over the coming months and years: Tony. My little brother, resident wingnut and predictable goofball tuk tuk driver will look over you and be there for you no matter what. May you giggle incessantly together <grin>. Oh, and Gabi leaves you her favorite seat at Bloom Café along with a wish that your next cupcake may always be the best you’ve ever eaten. 
Philip and Kaja – To our wonderful downstairs neighbors who quickly became our fastest couple friends in Cambodia, we leave a pile of stuff we either didn’t want to take with us or ship to the US. Actually, since we’ve already left all this stuff in your living room, we leave our forwarding address and a fervent wish that you visit us wherever we are and that we frequently darken each other’s doors as life continues to drag us along.
Heang Thy – To my former colleague, friend and adoptive daughter, I leave a piece of my overused backbone for you to hold in reserve as a supplement to your own impressive supply of strength and toughness. Life is not easy for a capable, strong-willed Cambodian woman like you, and I want to leave a piece of me to support you for when you need it most. Not that you’ll need it.
Brett Sciaroni – Little did I suspect that I’d develop a friendship with a former Reagan White House lawyer who is a West Coast conservative and rubs elbows with some of Cambodia’s top power brokers. Having learned to look past your politics and favoritism for West Coast sports teams, I leave you a giant vacuum cleaner to use on the 15+ years of paper that seems to have propagated on your desk. Jeez.
Allie Frentz – I’d like to think I helped play a role in you landing your new job at Brett’s firm, so aside from putting you in charge of political debates with him I’ll leave you with a wish for good health, prosperity and happiness in your new role. I also leave you a bottle of paracetamol. You might need it. 
Wes Hedden – Under other circumstances, I would leave to you all the bugs, parasites and infections that I have attracted over the years, but since you’ve already had Dengue and are still in the running for the Guinness Book of World Records for the longest intestinal parasite ever expelled by a human being, I’ll leave you with a serious wish for continued growth, success and happiness in your excellent work with the Sarus Educational Foundation. Sarus is without question one of the most worthwhile and thoughtful efforts to imbue the future of Vietnam and Cambodia with a commitment to peace, mutual prosperity and collaboration. I also leave you an open credit at Lucky Supermarket so you can prowl the aisles and relieve them of all the weird packaged dried squid, fish and unmentionables that you love but I would never dream of munching on.
Hun Sen – Not many people would have the cojones to include Cambodia’s strongman Prime Minister in a smartass blog post like this, but since I am a) considerably off his radar screen and b) gone I’ll take the chance. I’m leaving a piece of my heart with you, Samdech Techo Padei Hun Sen, not because you deserve it or would know what to do with it, but because I hope you’ll find a way to grow one of your own from the sample and put it to use to at long last serve your people. You could afford to buy one on the black market a bazillion times over, but since you view everything else in Cambodia as fair game for your largesse you might as well include my ticker.
Phil Sen – Aside from a linguistic barrier to erect between your good name and that of the ringleader clown above, I leave you a Winnie the Pooh umbrella to protect your Eeyore of a head and shelter you from the periodic hard luck storms that seem to periodically drift your way. (Not telling any secrets out of school here, but we both know what we’re talking about.) We are also leaving you all the cucumbers and watermelons we didn’t eat over the years, since both of us loathe them and can sense their presence in food from a block away, along with a large bunch of under ripe bananas, since we know how much you love them. Put ‘em all together in a yummy smoothie and take your own to the Willow next quiz night. It’ll be simpler and more efficient than ordering one from the bar.
The cats that jumped up and down on the corrugated tin roof outside our bedroom window in the middle of countless nights – Dear feral felines: I am leaving you with a bunch of 10th lives, since the nine you already possess are in serious jeopardy from rats that outweigh you, neighbors that universally despise you and our landlord’s son in law Borey, who so resents your incessant peeing all over his family’s belongings that he’s on the verge of declaring all-out war on you.
Cambodian drivers – It would be pointless to leave you with driving lessons or to suggest that staring at your iPhones while zig-zagging along Phnom Penh’s busy streets might not be the wisest tactic nor a particularly Buddhist manner of operating a motor vehicle, so I’ll leave you with free passes to the bumper car ride at the Dreamland Amusement Park so you can get the road carnage out of the way in a slightly safer setting.
To everyone I should have included on this list but for reasons of brevity omitted you from this message: farewell, thanks for a load of laughs and a ton of memories.
See you all on the flipside, wherever that may be.