Nov 30, 2010

Nov 29, 2010

The Trans Manchurian, once again.

If you know Finnish (or google translate is your best friend) do read Juho's blog (earlier mentioned as 'The Deranged Finn'. With love, of course) to get a clear picture of what life on the Trans Manchurian really was  like.
Well, our train-reality was a bit more sober, and a whole lot cleaner, since we discovered the 'toilet shower' already on day two. But still, read it.

(he just came to the end of our train ride, so you'll have to scroll back a bit)

The Sceninc Day, Our Lucky Star, Visits to Thailand & Huay Xai - Day 55

Getting from A to B has generally not been a problem for us, and since we were longing to get out of tiny Muang Sing, Huay Xai sounded like a good option (hell, they've even got an ATM everything!).

When taking a bus (or rather, an ancient mininvan that seems to fall apart in every bend and bump) in Laos, one generally has to show up in time at the bus station (a big field where buses, people, cows, dogs and chicken idly wander about), at least 45 min before departure time. The reason being that even though you might have bought a ticket well in advance, it's first come first serve when it comes to the very limited number of seats that are to be shared by a very large number of people. The drivers often make small people sit on top of each other, so for once I'm happy we're giants...

The buses usually take their time in leaving the departure station since passengers forget stuff at home and make the bus drive around town looking for their friends, family and belongings.  All the while we sit uncomfortably (we're only just short enough to fit into the seats) confined, usually sweating generously accompanied by strangely familiar popular music ala Lao.

There being only two buses  a day to Muang Long (we had to catch the earlier one so we wouldn't get stuck somewhere), we took a gamble and arrived at the bus station a measly 10 min in advance hoping that three seats would somehow magically be found (we were busy packing and getting take-away tofu...). And what do you know; when we arrive it was half empty!
We happily hopped onboard and enjoyed the views, while the crowd of passengers grew thinner and thinner. At Muang Long (teeny town in the middle of nowhere) we were the only ones still on the bus. The driver kindly informed us that there wouldn't be a bus to Xieng Kok. He flashed a big smile and said he would drive us there for 50,000 kip per person. "Expensive!" we complained in our minds, but kindly agreed since staying the night or heading back were no options. Our cash preserve was alarmingly small, and as you alreday know ATMs are few and far apart in Laos.

The view from the bus window was stunning: clear rivers, lush, green hills, peculiarly shaped trees, clear blue skies and adorable little villages dotted about the valleys we passed. We couldn't quite believe we were there, smack in the middle of it all!
A few km before Xieng Kok we got a flat tyre. "Bummer!" I thought, expecting the driver to wreak havoc. Instead of stopping the vehicle and inspecting the damage, our driver didn't seem to mind/notice. He drove on in oblivion. Luckily we avoided further delays.

We were dropped off at a crossroad and somebody pointed the direction of the speedboat quay. The Mekong floated on serenely and Burma on the opposite shore looked enticingly green and wonderful.  The border dudes (either lying in their hammocks or playing petanque in the shade) told us, there would only be boats to a random town upstream from where one had to take a taxi to Huay Xai. "Fine, how much then?" we asked casually. "1,5 million for all three.". "Say what?!" We certainly did not have that much cash on us, so we sat down and started devising plans for our survival. We had enough water for a day or so, and we could probably sleep next to the border control hut, maybe even hang our mosquito nets somewhere. Maybe we could sell our ipods or something...

So we sat there giggling nervously, counting our money which we pulled out from various emergency stashes.  But it just wasn't enough to get us on the darn boat.

Suddenly two falangs appeared; a British couple who were fresh off from Thailand. They had taken a speed boat from a town opposite Huay Xai (on the Thai side of the Mekong), and they had paid considerably less than what was proposed to us. When realising that Xien Kok was not a place worth staying in (we didn't think so though. On the contrary, it was a sleepy little town blessed with an incredible setting. Just the way we like it!), they were in a hurry to get back to Huay Xai. They had more money than us (surprise) and generously offered to take the more expensive option, revealing us from a night under the stars. We were no longer in dire straits.

Except soon we would be. Quite literally.
The speed boat certainly lived up to its name. The exilirating ride took place in a small, thin rickety vessel with an enormously powerful engine in the back. We were provided with motorcycle helmets equipped with visors, to shield our faces with. Sitting in the front felt front you felt very much like cannon fodder.
The driver zipped skilfully, avoiding all the sandbars.
Again we were in awe of everything around us. So many secret beaches and swaying banana trees! What a nice smell of flowers!

We arrived at Huay Xai after dark, two visits to Thailand later, and thanking our lucky star we could just afford to pay for the tuktuk ride into town. There was even a new 24h ATM right next to our relatively affordable GH. "Now let's go explore the city!"
Huay Xai, you certainly didn't give a good first impression: Heaps of falangs acting stupid (being high, drunk and meddling in other illegal activities), expensive food (groceries at Finnish price levels...).
We're planning of spending as little time here as possible, either taking the boat to Luang Prabang (probably another backpacker ghetto) or just heading somewhere remote. Vang Vieng doesn't really sound so glorious, after overhearing some less attractive people loudly talking about tubing and getting messed up...

Lucky we don't really have any plans or high expectations. That makes it all the more exciting. We'll update from somwhere, sometime!

//R

Trekking - Day 53, Exhausted

After waking up, washing ourselves, brushing our teeth and saying goodbye to the family, we started walking again, first downhill then, surprisingly, uphill.
Although the last days trek was definitely the easiest, following a path all the time (the only one connecting the village with the rest of the world... Imagening them carrying there TV's and steel roofs along this path was... difficult) we were so tired from trekking already two days in a row, that we complained more then on the other days together, wondering how we'd ever make it out of the djungle alive. The fact that Keo had us nearly running the entire way, didn't help. Nor did the fact that we'd run out of water the day before, and only had som chai, from the village, to drink.
We where also more quiet than usal, which Keo noticed, since for once I wasn't constantly asking him or Sasu "Nimen yang, nimen yang?" (What is that, what is that?) pointing at everything around me, in my attempt to learn Lao. Keo was forced to take teaching me into his own hands, but all I can remember learning during the third day is 'gu', which means salt, for my thoughts were too occupied with thinking about the life of the villagers we'd just left.
However, Sophia, Ruut and I were not the only ones who weren't quite ourselves on the third day: Sasu had been drinking too much Laolao with the villagers the night before, and had a hangover. (Luckily we knew when to stop.... we wouldn't have survived the walk) This meant that he, instead of walking infront of us, as usual, lingered on far behind, singing at the top of his lungs and thus providing us constant background music.
Singing in Akha sounds more like animalistic cries, so after calling Sasu Obama for two days (they look rather similar, don't they?) we now started calling him Tarzan instead.

After walking up and down in the jungle, jumping over a stream running down the mountains, or a fallen tree, now and then, we suddenly entered an entirely different world: we where out of the NPA(nature protected area) again, slipping downwards in a tunnel, with walls and roof made out of sugar cane.
When we saw daylight again, ie. made it out of the fields, the scenery had changed drastically compared to the untouched forrest we'd seen for the last three days. Suddenly the trees were cut down to make way for fields, or if there were trees, they were planted rubber trees. Only 10 percent out of Laos forrests are natural forrests anymore, and that's why NP areas are so important, considering all the endangered species that inhabit them. We met a couple of pouchers when walking in the woods though, and heard several gunshots, so not even the NPA's are perfect.
Another thing that was extreemly weird, it wasn't just us, Keo and Sasu anymore. There were people everywhere, working on the hills and looking after their rubber trees. We had a totally newfound respect for these people, who walk up and down  hills on a daily basis, when we nearly managed to do it for three days. When Keo told us we still had two hours to go, and we all felt like crying.

Somehow we made it, and by running down all the downhill parts, we were in yet another Akha village before realizing it, and a lot faster then the promised 'two hours'. This 'village' didn't feel like a village anymore though, after the village we'd slept in the past night. Nay, it felt like a city, at least. After getting into the jeep (Sitting! Air-conditioning! Heaven!) and driving to Muang Sing, we suddenly understood why Keo keeps calling it 'Muang Sing city'. Try metropolis. Asphalt! Some houses not made out of tree! Falangs everywhere! So few animals! Stores - we hadn't thought about money for days! Everybody's clothes seemed so clean and tidy as well, and everyone looked so wealthy. Was this really the same Muang Sing, the little countryside town with one main street, which quantity of dogs and chickens we had been so amazed by only days earlier?
We thanked Sasu by buying him two packets of cigarrets (nasty habit, but he became so happy) and Keo by buying him a soccer ball and socks, promising to meet him at the soccer field later.
After this we wandered back to the bungalow we came to call 'home', with our walking sticks and chopsticks made out of bambu proudly in our hands, talking about how nice the warm shower was going to be (that we'd been dreaming and talking about for days, now only minutes away) but promising not to forget anything we've experienced on the trek. I'll keep this walking stick and these chopsticks forever, I said. I can probably not even walk without the stick anymore!

Two days later, and I forgot my bambu walking stick in Muang Sing. I'm still holding onto the chopsticks though, and I intend to hold on to the memories of the thoughest trek of my life (so far) and the my memories of the villagers, however disturbing, even long after the chopsticks are gone.

Sadly, the camera's battery died, so no pictures what so ever from the last day. We're happy there are no pictures of us from the last day though, because we were a horrid sight, and we won't forget the amazing views anytime soon, so no harm done.
The rest of you just have to go do the trek yourselves, to truly understand what I'm rambling on about!
//H

Leaving - Day 55

Hey, just a quick update to let you know that pictures and the post about the last day trekking will come up whenever we find a computer next time...
...at the moment we're trying to pack quickly (we've become pretty good at it...) and then we'll take our 'take-away' rice and tofu and head for the bus station... where to next, we're not quite sure.
Huay Xai is where we'd like to go, and we think we might get there by taking a 'bus' (usually a minivan or a jeep with way too many people in it...) to Muang Long, then a 'bus' from there to Xieng Kok, and then a speedboat from there to Huay Xai.... but these are just wild guesses, so we'll see where we end up!
//H

ps. we are even more 'locals' here then we thought, with people constantly telling us they've seen us here and there and we've just ignored them. Well, we didn't even know we knew you! Our everyday ruotine when it comes to walking to the morning market is also so well known that we no longer have to walk since people offer us rides. The other falang ask us what's up and what's happening in Muang Sing, since we seem to know. Is it noticeable that we don't really regard ourselves as falangs anymore, hehe? We're gonna miss Muang Sing and our friends here, but yes, definitely time to leave. ds.

Nov 28, 2010

Yes, we're locals. - Day 54

....as said, pictures to the last post, and the last day of the trekking will come up tomorrow!
Today we've been too busy playing soccer with Muang Sing's soccer team, which consists of ca 20 guys aged  20-25 who practice daily. We have no idea why we agreed on playing with them, and we did get cold feet when reaching the field. After watching them play for a bit, however, we decided to join in, which meant most of them decided to watch us play. Well, all things considered I think we can be proud of our input and now we're headed out, once again, to party with Keo and his friends from the soccer team - it's our last night in Muang Sing!
Muang Sing has truly felt like a home, since we've never stayed this long in one place before (a week!) and we even 'returned' here twice: after the ATM trip to Luang Namtha and the trekking.
So we're proabbly gonna miss our days as 'locals' here, but it definitely is time to move on. All in tonight though, have to have a proper farewell!
We just hope we wont have to drink more Beerlao...

Trekking - Day 52, The Mentally challenging day

After eating breakfast (more rice, surprise) and packing, we were off once again. The sun was shining, although we could see that the valley, where Muang Sing lays, was still covered in clouds, as it is every morning.














After an hour or so we reached the highest hill in the region, about 1850 meters above sea level. When we started walking downhill the landscape suddenly changed, and instead of walking in low grass (with thorns, everything had thorns) and chilling with the buffaloes and cows, we entered the jungle for real. We walked for almost three hours downhill, and with our muscles aching we almost (but only almost) missed walking uphill.... Then finally we came to the long awaited 'river'. Turns out it had been a bit too hyped, and was not much more then a stream. Anything would do in our sweaty state, and with no one watching we chose not to obey the 'only bathing in a sarong' -rule, and jumped in to the cold stream in our bikinis. No matter how we scrubbed we didn't feel quite clean, and putting on the same (completely soaked with sweat) clothes we now had walked in for two days, felt horrible.




Keo promised we would arrive at the Akha village, where we were to spend the night, in half an hour, so we tried to make ourselves representable by tieing our sarongs as skirts. For the first time, Keo approved of our clothing, and asked us why we had been wearing pants before. Uh, d'uh, because they are a lot more comfortable. Who would ever go trekking in a skirt?! All Lao women, was his response.


Well, we know why we didn't see any Lao women trekking. Turns out the half an hour to the village was once again spent walking vertically uphill. I do not recomend this in a sarong.


Once again soaked with sweat, we arrived at the village. The first thing we saw was a tiny school building, Keo informed us that kids here go to school when they are 6, 7 and 8 years old, after that they are done with school. Suddenly we where surrounded by kids showing us thumbs up and shouting 'Sabai Dee'.







The village was not big, consisting of 21 houses and with about 130 inhabitants. If the animals would have been counted there would for sure have been a lot more then 130 inhabitants, since wherever you looked there were pigs, dogs, chickens, goats, cows etc. running around. And even when you didn't look, you heard them...

The village is not reached in any other way then by foot (takes about 5 hours to reach the nearest road), and the path leading to the village is extreemly steep and quite difficult. Last night by the fire we had felt like we where the only people in the world. Now we felt like we where in the most remote village in the world. The villagers were also extreemly poor, and we had some trouble not knowing how to behave. We could communicate with no one, since they all spoke Akha, so the Lao we'd learnt from Keo last night was of no use to us. We could only observe the on-goings in the village, how the inhabitants behaved towards each other and the animals, how the children played and what the houses looked like.

The Akha live in houses built several meters above ground level, standing on poles. Under the houses lived the animals. The floorboards were so sparse that you could easily swipe leftovers and dirt down to the animals below. The family we stayed with had a big house with a steel roof (a couple houses had this, while the poorest families had houses with hay roofs), a big 'living room' with a fireplace and even a TV, though it was badly outdated and dusty. In the evening the generator would go on and Keo told us that someone had turned on their TV.

We have a hard time processing what we think about the village. Since we don't know, we can only wonder what the villagers think about their situation, what the teenagers want out of their lives and most importantly if they are happy. From what we saw, violence was very common. The kids were very violent towards each other, most probably because they were treated the same way by their parents. Many times we saw parents and older siblings threaten younger ones with a beating if they didn't stop crying or complaining. The parents were not so involved in the raising of their children, the older kids took care of the younger. A five-year-old carrying his three-year-old sibling was not and uncommon sight, even though he wasn't that much bigger, physically I mean. But the ones that suffered most from the abusive villagers were the animals. Though they were able to walk around freely and behave as they should (compared to for example caged chickens in Finland) they still were the ones lowest in the hierarchy. A child could lift up a pup by its tail and wave it around, only to drop it on the ground and walk away. The adults hit the pigs on the head when they came looking for food where they shouldn't and kicked the dogs that came inside. The children, of course, picked up on this and behaved the same, just more violently and just for fun. Guinea pigs (attached by strings to prevent them from running away) were popular soccer balls, for example. The sounds of hurting animals didn't seem to bother them. It sure did bother us, and we always looked or walked away when someone was abusing an animal in front of us (often, it seemed, to impress us).






For most of the day both the animals and villagers seemed rather afraid of us, (except for the kids making faces and shouting sabai dee) and we felt like complete outkasts.

When washing ourselves in our sarongs in the stream together with the other women and when sitting and drinking home made Laolao with the village men at night, we felt some sort of 'acceptance'. And when waking up at 5 a clock in the morning when the family got up and started making breakfast (we slept on their 'living room' floor. The house consisted of two rooms, the other one being the families bedroom) we felt rather privileged to be able to be part of family life, in a village that seemed to be stuck on the Middle Ages. However, when we ate first, and the family then ate our leftovers, or when 6 girls at the age of 15-18 gave us (an unwanted an painful) massage (It was part of the price, and the girls got paid, so Keo would not let us decline, although the situation made us very uncomfortable - we wanted to talk with them!) we did not feel 'part' of the village in any way. We had to try and remind ourselves that we brought money to the village, and therefore sort of did a good deed, although it didn't feel like it. Many of the villagers were sick and asked for medicine, but all we had to offer was a couple of books in Lao (which they didn't understand, since they spoke Akha..) and my 'fascinating' bracelets from H&M, which I donated to the girls in the family. (They were six girls, the oldest being 14 and the youngest 2. Their father complained about wanting a son...)


//Sophia & Hanna

Trekking - Day 51, The Physically challenging day

None of us had managed to keep any food in for almost a week and just walking to the morning market was most days too long a walk for at least one of us. But since we hadn't done anything active since Tiger Leaping Gorge, and none of us has ever been trekking for real, we thought we'd at least do something a bit 'sporty' after spendning almost 4 days in Muang Sing doing nothing.

So we signed up for a three day jungle trek, walking uphill 7-8 hours a day, 'moderate to difficult'.

Wait, what?



When we realized that there is no way we will survive the following three days, it was too late, and so we packed our bags, checked out and managed to walm 'all the way' to the morning market to buy snacks for the following day.

After this we met up with our guide, and the real chock hit us. We had no proper gear, and our backpacks being so small, we actually had to carry our water bottles and snacks in a plasic bag and have our sleeping bags hanging from our backpacks. Hysterically laughing (this is how we react when everything goes wrong) we jumped into the minivan, trying to eat as much as possible of our newly bought snacks, so we wouldn't have to carry so much.

It all started innocently enough, when we suddenly had to jump out of the minivan.
Communicating with our guide was a bit difficult, so we didn't know where we were headed, but we were told to leave our stuff. Turned out we were to visit a Akha village close to Muang Sing. The Ahka is a minorty tribe in Laos, although in Muang Sing they seem to be in majority... The women wear colourful clothes and they have their own langauge and religion (animism). The village was huge and we also visited a school, with hundreds of laughing children running around and shouting 'Sabai Dee'. Too bad I also left our camera in the minivan....

After seeing some Akha weaving we jumped back in to the minivan and were all too soon told to get out again. This time for real, and we started laughing hysterially once more. We met our other guide, Sasu, a Akha from the village we just visited, who carried our tent and our food. We felt immensly guilty because of this.



Ruut and Sophia, still happily unaware of what awaits them, just before starting to trek. (You can see the path we followed behind them)

Half an hour later our luaghter had died and we felt guilty no more, only thankful. We started by walking through an extreemly dense sugar cane field, on a 'path' (if you can call the opening Sasu created with his machete a 'path') that felt almost veritcal, with the sun shining in our faces. Luckily the field ended and we enjoyed the shade of the trees, but since we kept walking verically uphill the sweat was flowing and our legs already aching. 7 hours more of this?!

Uphill, constantly uphill...



Sasu watched us basically crawling up hill after hill, and decided to make us walking sticks out of bambu. When it was lunchtime, Sasu prepared a 'table' out of huge banana tree leaves and made us chopsticks out of bambu. As mentioned earlier he also carried our tent and food (not our immense quantites of snacks, of course) and was the one making the 'path' by swinging his machete. Sadly Sasu only spoke Lao and Akha, so during the first day conversations were limited, but we soon learned to understand each other. Sasu was our idol and we were greatly thankful for everything he did.... except his path choices. When walking on a path that would take us slowly up the hill, Sasu would turn around, look at ur red, sweaty faces and laughingly start walking straight up the hill instead of following the path. This meant more vertical uphill walking....
Sasu

Lunch




See the tiny cottage on the hillside? The white dot? That's where we are headed.

 After walking the last hours uphill (surprise) through bushes with thorns so sharp that we left a a trail of blood, hair and thred from our clothes behind us, and wading ancle deep in mud and buffalo excrements (very slippery!), we finally arrived at our 'camp' looking and feeling like we'd been running up stairs in a sauna for 6 hours.

Made it!

Our friendly neighbourhood buffalos.


We washed ourselevs (heaven!) in a cold stream and then crawled up in the buffalo herds' cottage by the fire, listening to Sasu teach Akha to the two buffalo herds who at the moment lived there (they shift, every buffalo owner lives there for a week every 5 weeks) while Keo, our guide made dinner over the fire. We always ate rice, for three days, with different vegetables and tofu.

Our shower. Water, such luxury.

Muang Sing could be seen from our tents, far,far away, down in the valley.

We felt slightly dirty....

The view towards our tents from the cabin

Dinner, the two buffalo herds warming themselves by the fire.


Aftwards we walked back to our tents and sat by the fire, watching the starlit sky above. Never has it looked the same, the whole sky seemed to be covered in stars! Suddenly the extreemly exhausting climb seemed to be worth it all!

We also started to finally understand our guide, and he us. Turns out our guide, Keo, was only 22, and had worked as a guide for one year, also working at his parents farm and rubber tree plantage. Before that he spent 11 years in a monestry. At first he didn't seem to understand what we meant when we asked him about what he did on his spare time, but then he admitted to drinking a little whiskey once in a while and playing soccer everyday at 5 a clock.


Ruut studying Euros with Keo by the fire.

When it got too cold (my shoe started burning since I apparently tried to warm my feet all too eagerly... Luckily they were only cheap, and not very comfortable, Chinese shoes, since I left my amazing Ecco walking shoes in Lijiang... oh well) we crept into our tiny two-person tent, and slept until about 6 a clock. It's not often you wake up to a view quite so awesome.
//H

Muang Sing, Day 47-54

We've started to feel pretty much at home here in the small Lao town of Muang Sing. Though we've only been here a little under a week (which is longer then basically anywhere in China, even though we spent two nights on our trek) we've had time to establish a routine for how we spend our days.

Our street, one of two paved roads in town.


Morning mist over Muang Sing.

In the mornings we usually get up around 8AM. Hanna has, of course, been up for hours before Ruut and myself, reading or listening to the sounds around our cozy little bungalow (the sounds that never seem to bother her fellow companions' sleep; roosters, people moving about/talking...). After getting dressed, quite appropriately (here women should cover their knees and shoulders, a requirement we can't always meet...), we head out for the morning market on the other side of town (about 10min of walking).

Walking to the morning market

Morning market.

Walking home.

There we stroll around buying our breakfast. Always a baguette (Laos used to be a French colony, which has left its mark) or two, either sweet or 'normal', a heap of mini-mandarines, apples and other fruits and vegetables. Sometimes a couple of dumplings, a bag of sweet popcorn, a bowl of noodle soup or a bamboo cane filled with sticky-rice and coconut milk.The early afternoon we spend lying around our bungalow, reading or listening to music. And soon enough it's time for lunch. We wonder what to have today, Curry-vegetable or Tom Yum soup? Fried tofu with noodles or fried rice with vegetables?
The View Restaurant's beautiful view, hence the name.

Waiting for lunch...which in Laos might take a while. So don't let yourself get too hungry before you head for a restaurant!

The rest of the day we do whatever pleases us at the moment. A traditional Lao massage one day and a sarong-hunt the other (women have to wear a sarong when bathing, which is so unfair when men walk around half naked most of the time!).


Our bungalow is the one with the blue roof.
Our guesthouse has two bungalows to offer, each with two separate rooms. All of them are usually filled. We've had a French family, a Spanish couple, two American sisters, a Spaniard (one of the Americans boyfriend) and most recently an old French couple as neighbours. With the three in the middle we went out to a restaurant the other night and swapped travel-stories, experiences and of course had loads of fun. And yesterday night we spent with our Lao guide from the trek, Keo. (Hanna will write more about the trek after this.) First we spent some time at his house, looking at pictures of him while he was a monk (he's spent 11 years in a monestary) and browsing through his copy of 'English for eco-guides', where we could read the phrases he often used on our trek. Such as 'this hill is so-and-so many meters high' and 'the Akha grow rice by the river'.
Keo's house.

Later (around 7:30PM...) we went to a local KTV bar where we politely drank some Beer Lao (none of us enjoy the taste of beer. Especially not me and Ruut, having suffered through a case (that's 12 beers!) already once in Laos.... we tried to be polite) and danced to their limited amount of English songs until it was time to go home. Keo thought that due to the late hour he should follow us to our guest house. The time being 9 in the evening we didn't really understand his thinking. But in Laos all the bars close at 11 so 9 is quite late, and as the sun sets around 5 or 6 PM you really feel tired. But compared to this the bars we visited in China are open late. In Yangshou we stayed in a bar until 3 AM, but then the poor bartender had to come up to us and ask us to leave since he wanted to go home and sleep....

But back to Muang Sing and Laos. We mostly take it easy and enjoy the Lao way of life. And any other way of living would be impossible since everyone else lives according to the 'no rush' policy.

The bus station of Muang Sing.

After the clothes market had been packed away. The Lao people are not any better than the Chinese at using trash bins...

Oh, and in this small town's internet cafe there are chickens running around our legs and 10-year-old Buddhist novises at the next computer. Later they biked away (the boys, not the chickens..), playing serene music from a loudspeaker in their bicycle basket.
We are definitely in the countryside, but after spending a night in the Akha village, Muang Sing, with it's two asphalt roads, feels like a huge city, and we've almost forgotten the skyscrapers of China....

//S