It started with the crackdown on online scams. One compound after another got raided. Then came the sweep of the gray market, and now even the casinos are shutting down one by one. Places that used to blaze with lights all night, packed so tight with people and motorbikes you could barely move, are finally quieting down. The streets are dead. For folks like us who rolled in years ago dragging suitcases behind us, walking down these roads hits totally different now.
Remember how full of ourselves we were when we first left home? Told our families there were no chances back in China, that we were heading abroad to hustle for a few years and see the world. Beat our chests and swore we’d make a pile and head right back. Back then, it felt like money was just lying on the ground here—all you had to do was grind and you’d get rich. Who would’ve thought that a few years down the line, we wouldn’t have a red cent to show for it, but the projects and companies would be disappearing one by one?
When the scam crackdowns first started, everybody thought, no big deal, we’ll just shift to another spot. But now the net is tightening. Compounds closed, casinos sealed up. That’s when it hits you: the real terror isn’t having nowhere to go, it’s realizing that besides this, you don’t know how to do a damn thing else. The hardest part is for the brothers who didn’t make any money. They’re scared to pick up the phone, too ashamed to go home. All those big talks from back in the day have turned into dead silence.
We came here chasing gold and dreams. Look at us now—just passing through, with no idea where we’re heading. The streetlights in Cambodia are still on at night, but the lights that belonged to us? They’re going out one by one. Feels like we blocked our own way back. No savings in our pockets, no way out on the road. All those fantasies of changing our lives ended up scattered in the night wind of a foreign country.
