Fried fiddler crabs, cups of rice wine, straw mats, dirt roads, lightning storms, reservoirs, water buffalo, filthy children, teenage parents, purple sweet potatoes, yellow omelets, green fields, salt and MSG, tea after every meal, frighteningly large spiders, bathroom breaks on the side of the road, lots of “Hellos!” and a 13-hour conversation where I could only understand bits and pieces. I feel schizophrenic now.
The photographs above are from wherever I was today. In Son La Province, though we traveled so far I’m not sure if that was still true when we stopped. The roads here are like if you described roads to an alien race that only had large boulders, soft clay and a funny disposition to work with. I half expected a toy train or someone peddling a cloud to pass by. But that never happened.