Mountains, top, top. Through many hours of climbing and professing principle “pij, while it's hot” finally some village, some shop. Ufff… Zimna Pepsi, make it depend here on sweetened beverages, because the water itself no longer give advice pic. But, but! Small, maybe four- or five-year girl playing something. Something living. Guinea pig? At my request raises the stick and removed from the tin waiderka legs tethered pet.. Marmot. No, is not a toy. Once the child passes a car to pick up sticks and waving dangling felines. Marmot is for sale.
In the Laotian mountains is not too much as to sell. Small fruits of the earth are supported forestry achievements. The stands, that I pass are black or brownish-gray animals with long, fluffy tails. I do not know what started, but it was nice. When you dare to ask, Can I take a picture of a woman nods her head. You can not. Already almost set off, but attracts the attention my big jar.. I'm scared to look up in August, what is there. O mother… interest! Feet were as it turns out to niedwiedzi a tincture of them used to improve the unfailing and vital energy. Surely, how to someone instrumental in this cup is once in his veins the blood of the glass flow.
The contents of the other jars no longer watched.
Laos breeze greets me colder wind. Or is it simply self-persuasion? Shortly after the capital Vientiane, Vang Vieng around the landscape gets extra-terrestrial – Chalk pointed up on the banks of the Mekong form a beautiful, mysterious landscape. Then the road then in August only higher and higher, but podjazdowm accompany many-runs. It is hard, but it is beautifully.
People are my surprise and mystery. After a few months in Asia, where at almost every step greeted me more or less loud “hellos”, and the children almost leaped out of pants and jumped as balls screaming “bye, bye!” I'm invisible in Laos. Well, almost invisible, you can always count on children and their “Sabadee!”- im mlodsze, the more and louder shouts.
Adults do not see me, flitted past scooters, I have a feeling in the villages, that deliberately turn their heads and look sowing drift away. No, do not ask me to develop the red carpet, but rather a distinction here. Sometimes I feel uncomfortable by it. They are proud, but I think, What kind of man that beats through the cold mask it will be very friendly.
For now, still getting used.