Breakfast in front of Bayon again. It's cheap here so I cycled from Angkor Wat to see if it's open. It's not, so I made my way to Ta Prohm. Only a few metres ahead, the same girl calls out to me on the opposite side of the road on her bicycle heading towards her stall. She recognises me and I her.
There, I hear the music again and tracing its source, I come upon a house on stilts where the monk who resides there invites me in for a look. Inside, little children from the countryside were learning to play instruments.
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