Cambodia was the first country I stayed in longer than a vacation, the first place where I rented an apartment instead of a hostel bed, long enough to actually know my way around town. Back then, it still had a Wild East energy. Security guards slept at their posts, AK-47s draped across their chests. Kids darted through the main drags, openly hawking bags of mystery pills and white powders to anyone who’d listen, with zero concern for who was watching.

Coming back now, the changes are impossible to miss. High-rises pierce the skyline, roads are smoother, and there’s less trash piling up in the streets. The city feels cleaner, more structured. Fewer people look like they’re teetering on the edge of absolute ruin. Foreign investment is pouring in, and with it, the undeniable signs of progress.

But beneath the surface, there’s a lingering unease, like the country is being auctioned off to the highest bidder. For every shiny new building, there’s the question of who it really benefits. Cambodia is changing, and for now, I remain cautiously optimistic.