Siem Reap: rain and shine; night or day.
Rain
Street vendor talks to her colleague while both protect themselves and the food from the pouring rain in downtown Siem Reap.
Southeast Asia is known for its lengthy rainy seasons. And when it rains, it RAINS. During the monsoon season, water pours for about half an hour at a time, but the volume is enough to flood everything. Days usually start with a beautiful blue sky, the suddenly turns to an apocalyptic gray. You barely have time to find shelter and hell breaks loose.
Everyone is used to it. The tuk-tuk drivers sleeping on the seat just turn to the other side while the street vendors pull down a tarp that's been there for moments like these.
Despite the occasional heavy rain, Cambodia is going through it's worst drought in 80 years. Animals are dying and people are losing their crops. It's a very tough time for the country.
A tuk-tuk driver sleeps through a heavy downpour, unfazed and uncovered by the falling rain.
Shine
Children accompany their father on a tuk-tuk ride. These adapted motorcycles are an essential mean of transportation in Southeast Asian countries, cheaper than cars and more convenient than bikes.
On the side of the road, a group of men rest. It amazes me how in such a hot place, they wear so many clothes. I was sweating my brains out.
At a park in front of the Royal Family's Siem Reap house, a group of kids plays under trees full of fruit bats.
A man fishes in the river that runs through Siem Reap — right across from the market I mentioned in my last post.
Night
Siem Reap’s nightlife is vibrant and full of energy.
As the sun sets, the city transforms — especially on the aptly named Bar Street, where neon lights flicker to life and music fills the air. The narrow stretch is packed with nightclubs, restaurants, massage parlors, and souvenir shops, drawing both tourists and locals into its lively rhythm. It’s chaotic, colorful, and full of life.
Locals gather and chat outside restaurants on Bar Street, Siem Reap’s lively nightlife hub. By day, it’s a quiet row of cafés and souvenir shops. But as the sun sets, the neon lights flicker on, music fills the air, and the street transforms into a buzzing mix of tourists and residents — sharing drinks, stories, and the occasional plate of fried insects.
Nightlife in Siem Reap is very lively. There is a bar street full of nightclubs, restaurants, shops and massage places.
A woman bites her fists as she and two other tourists laugh their way through a fish spa — the tiny fish nibbling away at dead skin. It tickles more than you’d think.
Day
But by morning, it’s a different city.
The noise fades. The neon is off. The streets are quieter, calmer — and more real. While the nights show off the city’s energy, the days reveal its heart.
Women share a quiet meal at the monument built to honor the victims of Cambodia’s brutal civil war. The space is peaceful now, shaded and still, but it holds the weight of a painful past. For many, places like this are not just memorials — they’re part of daily life, reminders of loss woven into the fabric of the everyday.
Across from the children’s hospital, a man naps on his motorcycle, balancing between the noise and the heat.
A little girl clings to her backpack, rubbing her eye as she browses fruit at a street market across from the children’s hospital.
At a Buddhist temple, a woman has her head shaved as part of a spiritual cleansing ritual. In Cambodian tradition, shaving one’s hair symbolizes letting go — of stress, of sorrow, of past burdens. The belief is that as the hair falls away, so do the hardships tied to it. It’s a quiet, personal act of renewal in a country where healing, for many, is still ongoing.
Boy sleeps on the ground next to a bookstore on the bar street in downtown Siem Reap.
