Reviving this puppy one year later. Between the iCloud doing it's job and taking photos off my phone and then the Blogger app going out of service, blogging at the time was a headache and a half, and I wasn't interested. But now, I figure my slightly stale memory is better than trying to recall these experiences many years from now, so let's do this. July 18 -20, 2016 Allow me to bring you back: One year ago, we were in northern Laos. I recently recovered from jungle fever and we did small hikes and day trips to test me out. I'm feeling good so we're gearing up for a trek into the Nam Ha National Protected Area and away we go... Since tour pricing is contingent on the number of people participating, we hunt down a group to join us for a two-day hike and kayak through Nam Ha. We were psyched to arrange a group of four but by morning we end up with nine... Now nine is a big group for this kind of thing; it's tough to hear your guide to learn anything and it's easy to overwhelm the small villages that host us. Though this may not be the cultural exchange we originally set out to have, everyone is hilarious so regardless it should be fun! Our new friends are Ana and Andres, Jon and Kristie, Jessica and Cheryl, and a young German guy who was frustrated with the rest of us and our loud English speaking. After the shortest and easiest beginning to a hike, apparently it's time to start making lunch and our guide heads into the jungle to gather supplies. He chops down bamboo tubes to use as pots to boil soup, as serving dishes, a fine dining picnic setup and even makeshift spoons. Wish lunch was as tasty as it was fun to make... but this is Laos. Over the river and through the deep dark jungle to a small Ahka village we go. There are directional markers in the trees and we listen for barking deer. We indeed overwhelm the village and they stick us on the far side in a big guest house, and our sleepover silliness begins. We have help achieving optimum silliness levels with the home brewed Lao Lao rice wine, served from a lovely petrol container and poured into a beer bottle. With mixers of Coke and Orange Fanta, we hang out in the river, get showered and giggle the night away playing The Game. I never sleep well when drinking so I’m up first and tour the village on my own. Everyone is headed to work in the fields, crossing the river on a less than reliable foot bridge. A momma dog crosses, leaving her four pups behind and they are in such a panic trying to follow her. Some villagers help them out. Walking around, last night’s cooking fires are extinguished and take note of how wood is used here. As Americans, we’re used to bonfires, the bigger the better. I'm a self-proclaimed bonfire queen and use it purely for entertainment and ambiance. Here (and really everywhere) wood is too precious of a resource that Ahka people hike miles to forage through the jungle for it. They build fires where only the ends of the logs overlap, leaving the rest of the logs sticking out from the fire. They tend to it as they need it but the fire should also be able to extinguish itself quite quickly to save wood and make sure the village and jungle don’t go up in flames. This mindful use of materials is something I will carry with me. At breakfast, Ana recounts her crazy dream where a giant rolls onto her, causing the mosquito net tucked under her mat to move, simulating a snake under her mat, leading to a total freak out!! The giant was real and his name is Ryan... Haha! The second day is a rafting/kayaking trip down one of the many rivers that feeds into the mighty Mekong. Naturally, the kayaks don't hold their air very well making for many more giggles and wet bums. We visit another Ahka village that branched off from the first due to crowding. Unfortunately the sun and soil on this side of the mountain make life more difficult. This village is close to a new dirt road that the Chinese are carving through the jungle. There were several comments made by our guides about their feelings towards their neighbors to the north. The guides warn not to play too rough with our kayak paddles because they're from China and will break easily. They called the tractors "Chinese buffalo" which is a big insult against the industrialization that's infiltrating their lives in the jungle that they don't have any means to prevent. The village chief shares lunch with us and we check out their barrels of indigo dye while Ryan animal whispers a cow calf. How does he do that?! I have tried to touch a cow for six months and they all turn away from me... I'll keep trying; it will happen.
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Enjoy the sights and stories of our first six months of travel:
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