A man reaches out for his daughter’s small hands at a brick factory north of Phnom Penh. I am not sure whether her hearing was as impaired as the father’s. The noise was dreadful, high pitched and thumping at the same time, from the mud compressors; pushing bricks out in long raw rows. In this place, I saw love without expectations, without disappointment. It was unconditional. Like the environment around it.