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We woke up to the sound of rain excited to head back to the temples of Angkor. We hopped in Mr Sok’s tuk tuk and watched as the water level in the streets continued to rise. Our first stop was a small temple about a kilometer off the beaten path. We waded through a muddy stream and felt as the earth squished between our toes. We teamed up to photograph the site. I worked the bright red umbrella as Ingrid found interesting angles with the camera. We ducked into small, block buildings to avoid the downpour and waded through waist-high streams forming inside of the temple’s walls. We felt like Indiana Jones as we worked our way through the serene ruins all alone. Although our spirits were high, Ingrid’s camera was angry with the sustained six months of abuse. The camera decided to go on strike refusing to power up. With a big investment on the line, we decided to head back to the hotel and try to resuscitate the wet camera body. After what seemed like 10 hours of blowdrying, the camera woke up and we sighed with relief.