My first day in Sapa was a total bust. Heavy rain, fog, and cold temperatures in the 40’s do not make for a “chipper jsun” in a hotel room with no heat. I prayed to the rain gods to allow us one non-rainy day to properly see Sapa which is known for it’s breathtaking mountains and endless cascading rice paddy terraces carved into the mountains (pic to come later b/c having issues posting it now). Sapa is also quite commercialized and touristy and every other store sells knock-off Northface parkas for a fraction of the cost. They must make a killing b/c every tourist I know buys these knock offs b/c it is so cold. I was elated to wake up to no rain b/c I signed up for day trek to see the hill tribes and by foot is the best way to see them. The hotel lent me rubber boots which saved me b/c it is muddy trekking and you wade through rice paddies and mud paths. I have conflicting feelings about Sapa. The landscape is gorgeous and the rice paddies delivered in terms of beauty (in the sun they must look stunning) but the trek was hardly a leisurely “one with nature” type of affair. From the start, you are deluged with a group of hill tribe women who follow you the entire trek which is several kilometers. The ratio is about 2:1 hill tribe women to tourist. They are friendly and ask where you are from and your name but you keep waiting for the ball to drop and for the “hard sell.” And believe me, it comes.These women can sell and know every tactic in the book. It is a lose lose situation. You feel like a jerk if you ignore their attempt at engaging you in conversation but you also also are never going to be able to appease all of them in terms of buying. There are just too many of them! We arrived at the first Black Hmong village for lunch and then the very aggressive hard sell kicked in. The woman who had been tracking me the entire time and conversing with me turned to me and said “Now, you buy from me so I can go home with my baby (she had a baby on her back) and eat lunch.” And you feel bad but then you remember you never asked them to follow you the last 6km. I bought a silver bracelet from her for $11 but then you are swarmed by more local women demanding you buy from them and growing indignant when you don’t. You eat lunch and a new group of women follow you until the next Lao Chai village another few km away urging you to buy from them, telling you how far they walked, and I couldn’t help but grow a tad annoyed. I bought a pair of earrings from one for $2 to make her scram but I felt weary when I ended the trek and it had little to do with the actual walking. It was the constant barrage to buy, buy, buy that wore me out. It tests your patience and these vendors are everywhere! In fact, one is staring at me with her forehead pressed against the hotel window as I type this on the computer in the lobby asking me to buy a scarf. I’m glad I got to see Sapa. The surrounding landscape and rice paddies are really amazing. Every tourist who steps foot in Sapa will get the “full Sapa treatment” and it is an inevitable part of coming here. I didn’t find it a very comfortable experience but some people are better humored about these things. I just prefer the hill tribe trekking in Laos where you are mostly left alone and it feels like a more organic experience. I head back to Hanoi tonight by night train and head out to Halong Bay tomorrow morning.

Hanoi weather is quite miserable right now. It is very cold after coming from 85-90 degree weather and I don’t have the clothes for it. It is rainy season and pouring rain and I have put on every layer of clothing I have and look like a cross between a hobo and an Olsen twin and I’m still freezing.

I went to see Ho Chi Minh’s body today. Poor guy wanted a simple cremation but instead was pickled and preserved for millions to gawk at. I always feel oddly sad seeing dead bodies whether it is Ho Chi Minh or Ramses II. I went to the Ho Chi Minh museum which is a little bewildering because the English explanations aren’t exactly clear. I met up with an elephant volunteer friend of mine and we are going to Sapa tonite by night sleeper train and later to Halong Bay together on a 3 day junk ship (those ships with the multi-tiered sails that look like something from the movie The Lover or The Painted Veil) cruise. I just hope I can sleep on this train b/c it is 9 hours and we arrive early in the morning to see more hill tribes. I don’t think I’m going to do any trekking b/c it is rainy and muddy and even colder in Sapa.

I had to check out of my hotel room at 11am this morning and after trudging around town with my Norwegian friend for a couple hours in the freezing rain I decided I had enough. I headed back to my hotel and checked myself into the $6 a nite ladies dorm room b/c I needed a crash pad until 9pm. I was lying on a bunk bed huddled under the covers pulled to my chin for the latter part of the afternoon and started chatting with the 9 other girls in the dorm.They were all college students and didn’t realize in the dim lighting that I was definitely not a college student. They asked me what college I attended so I just told them I was a “recent grad” (what? 11 years isn’t recent?). It was nice to have flashbacks of college dorm life and relive Wellesley days and chat it up with the young kids. They invited me to a water pupper show and asked if I was going to come back and stay there after Sapa and I said “maybe.” I will most definitely not be staying there but it was fun to be a college kid again. But I’m also glad that my 30’s has at least provided me the resources to travel and stay in my own room with my own bathroom.

My cousin asked about the pho in Vietnam because her kids love it. Pho is everywhere and you eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I popped my eyes open this morning and woke up ravenous b/c I didn’t eat yesterday b/c I was feeling ill. I raced outta my hotel and hit the Old Quarter streets and plunked myself down on a tiny plastic stool to eat on a street-side crowded pho stand. You kind of have to turn a blind eye to the sanitation levels of these places and I keep receiving warning emails from my mom about not eating at street stalls or h-pylori? type of bacteria I can contract. The pho is good and I like how it comes with fried donuts which you dip in the broth and why don’t they give you these donuts back in the States? The serving sizes are much smaller so the bowl is 1/2 the size of the bowls of pho served back home. I guess we are piggies. Oh and it cost me about $1.25.

On another note, it is hard for me to identify which places are restaurant stalls and which places are actual private homes. I almost walked into someone’s kitchen the other day and ordered pho. People leave their doors wide open and they look like storefronts. Their kitchens look almost like restaurants to me. They also store their motorbikes in the kitchen.

I was STILL hungry after breakfast so I bought some donuts from a lady walking around selling them from bamboo baskets. What irked me was she was grossly trying to overcharge me as a tourist for them and wanted $3 for 2 tiny balls of fried sesame donuts. These weren’t Donut Planet type of donuts made with Valrona chocolate and lined with gold so I just smiled and offered her $1 instead. I have a feeling there is going to be a lot of patient smiling and re-negotiating in my future even when you are tempted to just shout “stop ripping me off!” 

I landed in Hanoi today sad to bid Laos goodbye. I want to give Hanoi a chance after a good night of rest because so far my impression is I’m not digging it. It is colder and gray and foggy and someone told me it is always covered in fog. I think I’ve turned into a little Laos country bumpkin and when confronted with the hubbub of the big city I am overwhelmed! My senses are short circuiting from sensory overload and I’m ready to have a mini-meltdown.

And holi cannoli is it the land of a million motorcycles. They are everywhere and it is unreal seeing them zip down busy lanes en masse. I half expect to hear an MIA soundtrack going in the background which would certainly be preferable to the constant honking which is putting me on edge. I was petrified to cross the road b/c there is never a time where the crosswalk is clear. I watched what the locals do and you basically have to walk right into the oncoming traffic and just stop and go like a game of frogger (remember atari?) weaving and darting your way through the cars and motorbikes.  It is absolutely nerve-wracking. And the taxi drivers are pretty pushy and all you hear is “Where you go?” over and over again and I try to smile and just say “I don’t need a taxi or I’m walking” but they follow you and keep walking beside you which is such a drastic change from Laos. I admit to being a little prejudiced to Vietnam coming in b/c I’ve heard from several travelers that they just didn’t like it as much as Laos and Thailand.

However, I am staying in a decent hotel in the Old Quarter and if I block out the noise and concentrate on the little romantic alleyways with French colonial architecture, I can see traces of Graham Greene’s The Quiet American. Fine, the book is a faint memory and I can more clearly remember the movie version starring Brendan Frasier and Michael Caine. I am determined to enjoy Vietnam and I just think I need to get out of the touristy large cities and see the countryside. It has all this wonderful coastline so I’ll definitely throw in a beach or two. And I’m sure the food is amazing and fresh and plenty of delicious seafood will be available.

I traveled 6 hours to basically see a cave. That is the only reason tourists come to Ban Khoun Kham which is the base point where you spend the night to see the cave 42 km away the next morning. The local bus from Vientienne to Ban Khoun Kam was a hoot. I was the only tourist and I hate how my guard has to be up and I have to regard someone with suspicion if they descend on me at the bus station and ask where I am going in English and help me buy my ticket. I thought to myself “Oh man, he is going to ask for money, try to steal my bag, or sell my something.” None of the above. I love Laos! I dubbed the bus the “dimsum bus” b/c you never stop for food and the bus stops occasionally through villages and picks up local women who march down the aisles hawking cold drinks and food on trays. Chicken on skewers, beef jerky, sticky rice, etc. They ride with us a couple km and then are dropped off. I bought myself some bamboo sticky rice with coconut. You peel the bamboo like a banana and then eat the rice inside with your hands. I also bought a steamed pork bun with a boiled egg in it and an unripe mango with chili sauce. I don’t like to eat it with the sauce.

I arrived in Khoun Kham 6 hours later and wondered what the heck I got myself into as I walked down the main strip of this tiny, non-descript, mountain town and saw no other tourists. I walked to the end of the strip trying to decide which guest house to stay at when I just decided to try one and I hear my name being called. It is Sophie and Darren! This British couple I keep serendipitously running into in  Vang Vieng, Vientienne, and now middle of nowhere mountain town. I was never so happy to see a familiar face. So I settled in nicely and after perusing the town (it takes 15 minutes tops, it is THAT small) I realized there isn’t a blissed thing to do out here and it lacks the karsts and scenery of Vang Vieng. I just watched Sophie and Darren play monopoly and chatted with them eating chips.

The guesthouse owner, Jimmy, is a spry older gentleman who lived in Canada over 20 yrs. His family was being sent to re-education camps in the 70’s and he escaped by swimming the Mekong to Thailand and hiding in the jungle for 15 days before going to a refugee camp and then Canada. I love stories of adversity and triumph. He arranged for me to take a local bus which is really an open-air truck with 2 benches to the caves and assured me it would only take 45 minutes to travel the 42 km. I learned in Laos you can never believe the travel times quoted to you (always multiply it by 1.5 or 2) and you just can’t be an “anal Annie” about it b/c it won’t do you any good. Over 2 hrs later we get to the cave b/c we picked up 5000 passengers on the way who can’t fit in the truck but are hanging off the outside and we also dropped off bags of mixed cement, gasoline, etc to various villages.

You take a motorized boat into the cave with giant beam lights and the cave is epic as far as caves go. The river goes right into and disappears into the cave entrance and it is massive and goes straight through a mountain. It is over 7km long and over 100m wide and high. Stalagcites, stalagmites, galore. It is spooky and wonderful. It takes almost an hour to get to the other side b/c you have to get out at certain parts where the water is too shallow and you walk in ankle or knee deep in water. It’s cool but humid at the same time and I was appalled by how ghastly I looked in my photos with sweat and matted hair that I decided not to post.

I head back to Vientienne tomorrow and I’m already dreamily planning out the lemon tart I plan to get from my favorite bakery. I also discovered their almond croissants are even better than their chocolate ones. On another note, my mac laptop battery died awhile back and won’t charge anymore and I realized asking folks if there is an apple repair store or “genius bar” in Laos is akin to asking if they also happen to have anal bleaching salons. Totally idiotic and not gonna find it.

I’ve been hanging out in Vientienne which is the capital city of Laos. Quite honestly, I don’t find it as charming as the other parts of Laos and it is a tad on the boring side. Plus, it is more expensive than other parts. Hotels cost more and I followed another German backpacker I made friends with on the bus ride from Vang Vieng to the guesthouse she wanted to stay at and it was a dismal affair. I have been lucky that all the budget type of places I’ve stayed at have been clean but this place was plain vile. I could tell they hadn’t changed the sheets, I won’t even mention the blanket, and the toilet made me prefer squatting in a hole somewhere. I haven’t felt depressed once during my trip until I entered that room. It was affecting my mood and after my German pal nonchalantly told me she once got fleas at one of her hotels and her last guesthouse had wood worms (what the hell IS that?) I started to question her judgement in hotels (I thought Germans had ridiculously high standards for cleanliness? Japanese-like?). I thought I could make it through the night b/c I already paid for 1 night but after lying in the dark a couple minutes with no cover on, my feet started to furiously itch. I don’t know if it was psychosomatic but little bumps started to form so I booked it outta there so fast at 10:30pm that you could practically see a cartoon cut-out of me in the door. I “splurged” and checked myself into a $25 night real hotel and stared in wonder at the bathtub (which I have not seen in the last 5 weeks) and the flatscreen TV. The next day I had to check myself into a clean but less “fancy” guesthouse for $15 a night and I wanted to weep b/c you always want to upgrade vs. downgrade but I convinced myself this new place was much more social. I need to save for Vietnam b/c it appears to be more expensive than Thailand and Laos. And I hear in Hoi An you can have their famous tailors whip up clothes for you by just showing them a magazine picture. You choose the textiles and they measure you and do their sewing magic.

There is little to do in Vientienne in my opinion except see wats and stuff your face with delicious, authentic, french pastries and coffee. I have nearly perfected the latter and just one day noticed my muffin top was creeping back (funny how that happens once you stop doing hard labor). It sneaks up on yah when you are wearing elastic band pants all day and putting condensed milk in and on everything. I demand oodles of it in my heart poundingly strong coffees, I sometimes spread it on giant crusty baguettes in the morning, and I have been sampling chocolate croissants everywhere I can find them. Favorite spot Cafe Croissant d’or! I have also developed a penchant for sickeningly sweet, milky, drinks that come in mysterious plastic bags with thick straws and glass jelly sold on the street.

I decided to take the local bus an hour outside Vientienne to see the very quirky and fun “Buddha Park” built in 1958 by some wacky yogi type that practiced his own form of Buddhism meets Hinduism. I’m sure my explanation is cringe-worthy but let’s just say it’s a great sculpture park of zany, giant Buddhist and Hindu sculptures which reminds me of an “Alice in Wonderland meets Eastern religious dieties” type of affair. It was pretty easy taking the local bus b/c the driver let me sit next to him and told me when to get off. In return, I helped collect the money from each passenger and passed the bus fare to him when he wasn’t busy driving.

I have a few more days to kill before my flight to Hanoi. The earliest flight I could book was for Monday and I really needed a break from the “character-building” long bus rides (24 hrs to Hanoi by bus) b/c I am sure there are many more in my near future in Vietnam considering I need to get from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh. I think I’ve had enough of Vientienne so I plan to take a jaunt (and by jaunt I mean a local bus for 4-5 hours and then hop on a 1 hr tuk tuk ride) to Ban Khoun Kham which is supposed to have amazing scenery of karsts and caves and has one of Laos most famous caves Tham Kong Lo.

Someone please explain to me why I ended up having to parcel home a package of stuff I bought since my bag was too full. In my stopover one night in the lovely Luang Prabang, I got hit with panic shopping mode of “I’m never gonna be here again” and I started buying up a storm at the night market. I grabbed silk scarves which would cost 10-20 times as much back in the States and somehow I went a little too far down the bargaining road for a hand embroidered Hmong blanket to back out. It straddled the fantastic/hideous fence. It was so fantastic in that you know it is all done my hand and must have taken eons to do and you want to cry for the woman who made it that you are only paying $50 for it. But, it also has that slightly odd, homemade look to it, is not particularly soft to the touch or comfy to lie under, is dusty and smells vaguely of farm animals. Actually, I’ve seen the Hmong women sewing and emboridering these blankets sitting in their doorsill under the sun with pigs and chicken circling the house so the smell makes sense.

I marched to the post office where you have to take off your shoes and leave them outside (you do the same at grocery stores) and spent the next hour patiently waiting to ship my blanket home. There are no computers at the post office and the man just writes things on little slips of paper and looks up costs in a stapled booklet he has. He determined it would cost me $100 to ship home by air or $40 by boat which will take 2-3 months to get to NY. I opted for boat and just crossed my fingers that it actually arrives. I’ve spoken to other travelers who said they had no problem receiving their packages.

I have collected an odd assortment of beaded bracelets, a shell belt I will never wear, a tablecloth for a kitchen table I do not have, and scarves. No more shopping! Until Vietnam that is. Chortles.

I spent another day caving in Vang Vieng. I bent my rules a little of doing things in groups and took a bit of a risk going caving. I asked my tubing guide, Seng, who spoke good English if he would be interested in taking me on his motorbike on his day off to a couple caves and I’d pay him. I was dying to see the caves Tham Jang (used as a bunker against the Chinese in the early 19th century) and Tham Phu Kham (Blue Lagoon cave) and big tour groups don’t go there as much b/c it’s easiest to get there by bicycle or motorbike.

The Blue Lagoon cave has a blue lagoon you can swim in at the bottom of the cave. You have to climb steep, jagged, rock “stairs” to get to the entrance of the cave which has a reclining buddha inside. I’ve never gone caving but I had my headtorch and extra back-up batteries and it is so cool and kind of scary exploring caves. There are no clear pathways or markers and it is dark. Once you no longer see the light from the entrance, it is easy to disorient yourself and you are rock scrambling, viewing gorgeous limestone stalagcites, and being extra careful to not fall down deep holes or hit your head, slip on the muddy surfaces. I would have never been able to find my way around alone so there is a lot of trust involved with your guide and if he ditched me I would have been in a big pickle. But I went with my gut and I had such a good time. Afterwards, you are hot and jumping into swim in the clean, clear blue lagoon with locals is heavenly.

The second cave was more sterlile and gentrified aka not as much fun. It had lights set up inside, stairs, and a clear roped off path to walk on so I much preferred the Blue Lagoon cave. It did have a really cool lagoon to swim in as well and you can swim a little to the inside of the cave which was oodles of fun. Seng was very nice but then I got all nervous that maybe he mistook me for some bold, liberal, American hitting on him b/c I did initiate asking him to take me and we were… gasp swimming together! Earlier, I had asked if he was married or had a gf b/c that is one of the first questions locals ask you in Laos. I made up a quick fake boyfriend back home when he asked me but then kept forgetting about said boyfriend when he would ask me about him later “Is he Korean?” Me “Who?” He invited me to meet up later for a Beer Lao and I made up some excuse of needing to go to bed early for my bus to Vientienne. I think it was just a friendly invite and sometimes a Beer Lao is just a Beer Lao (btw Beer Lao is about the only beer you can get in Laos and it tastes great), but I was staying on the other side of the river which was a 15 minute walk to town which I didn’t want to do in the dark. I had such fun caving and swimming but blerg, got a “thai tattoo” which is the name for the ubiquitous burn mark on your right inner calf that you frequently get when riding a motorbike out here and accidentally burn yourself on hot exhaust pipe getting off the bike.

I arrived from a quick stopover 1 nighter in Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng completely put thru the wringer on the bus ride over. The roads are pretty awful in Laos and it is not uncommon for passenger to need to pull over to throw up which I’ve witnessed. You start to appreciate smooth asphalt in ways you’ve never thought before and I arrived at my Vang Vieng guesthouse, Maylin, completely rumpled, exhausted, and immediately ordered a Beer Lao.

Vang Vieng is this peculiar dichotomy of being in the center of some of the most impressive nature you are ever going to lay eyes on and also being druggie central. The Nam Song river splits the town and I am staying on the quiet, tranquil, non-party side in a rustic bungalow at Maylins (every traveler will tell you to stay here if you can deal with no frills lodging) b/c the view will make your jaw drop. I wake up to jagged mountain peaks and limestone karsts that will impress even the most jaded traveler. The town itself is not charming and you can openly order “Happy shakes” which means your fruit shake has marijuana in it or sometimes opium or other drugs. I’ve actually only been offered to buy drugs a low number of times since coming to Laos - just once some opium when visiting the hilltribes up North (the Akha are famous for it) which I refused (Hey, I’ve seen Brokedown Palace).

Vang Vieng is synonymous with tubing. Everyone goes and that is how I found myself booked on a tubing and caving tour yesterday. The first part of the morning was rather lovely b/c you visit the Tham Nam cave which is so cool b/c during dry season you can tube your way thru the entire cave (during rainy season the water levels are too high).They outfit you with a headtorch and inflatable tractor tire and you drag yourself thru the entire cave floating on a tube in the dark and pulling on the fixed rope. Pretty darn fun. The latter half of the day was a tubing disaster.

Now, I don’t want to get on my soapbox but why can’t the achingly beautiful Nam Song River and dramatic, jagged, limestone mountain peaks (some of the best and cheapest rock climbing in all of Asia is right here) be enough for tourists? About 6 years ago, someone got the idea to create this tubing frenzy along the Nam Song river and it’s like “Spring Break Gone Laos.” You get on your tube and there are tiki  type of bars everywhere (over a dozen) on the side of the river blasting rave music with drunken tubers dancing on bamboo platforms and doing free shots. People throw you line and pull your tube in and you just stop off at these tiki bars and booze up and then grab your tube again and float to the next bar.

I didn’t realize how much boozing and how little tubing was involved on these tours and I realized too late I must be 10 years too old for this ruckus. I wanted to strangle the gang I went with. We had to stick together b/c we were all taking the same tuk tuk back to town. We would float maybe 20 meters and they would need to get out and drink giant plastic beach pails of mystery punch, dance in bikinis, scream, write marker slogans like Sex God” on one another’s bodies and hang out for an hour at that bar. Then another 20 meters and the same thing all over agaim. Tourists created a market for this. What kills me is this all takes place against this stunning mountain (think Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon) backdrop which no one is looking at b/c they are too busy going on the giant ropeswing, zip line, electric blue waterslide or dirty dancing. I feel like we plundered nature by installing these eyesore bars and slides. I had a Beer Lao and some mystery punch to loosen up but can you imagine 5 HOURS of this? I’m totally okay with people letting loose and drinking but I was just bummed to hear rave music echoing against the mountains and see the tacky water slides and tiki bars dotting the scenery. As one drunken recent college grad I ran into again (you see the same backpackers all over and keep running into people but in different cities) shouted in my ear “I came from Chiang Mai to this (his hand gestured to guys playing beer pong and 2 girls dancing under a shower) and I am never leaving Vang Vieng.” Don’t get me wrong, Vang Vieng is the most beautiful landscape I’ve seen so far in Laos and it is a climber, spelunker’s delight. But, somehow things seem to have gone astray as more and more tourists descended on this limestone karst gem of a city.

I just spent the last couple of days in Muang Sing which is Northwest Laos and “hilltribe heaven” because it has a very high concentration of various ethnicities. It is achingly close to China and Burma but I couldn’t go b/c it’s not the border crossing foreigners can use even if you have the appropriate visas. I went by bus with a Mexican girl, Mariana, I met on my previous trek and I suggested we stay at the same guesthouse to make coordinating plans easier but she misunderstood my meaning and said what a great idea that we share a room and save money. I decided I should try to work on my loner tendencies and hyper need for personal space so why not? 

Each successive town I arrive in seems to be growing smaller and more remote than the previous one. Muang Sing is a sleepy, dusty, little town of unpaved roads with one small main block. There are next to none touristy restaurants and you won’t find an oreo shake in sight. I think I saw only a dozen or so tourists during the entire time I was there. We stayed at one of the nicest hotels in town which cost us $4.50 each and overlooks rice paddies. I learned a valuable lesson to always withdraw extra cash in the bigger cities. Credit cards are pretty much useless in Laos and Muang Sing has no ATMs for foreign cards. You can exchange US dollars for Lao currency but I happened to be carrying none. I managed to have just enough Lao Kip to squeak by those 2 days but you don’t really want to find yourself in the position of debating if you can really afford that box of soymilk.

Mariana and I signed up for a tuk tuk tour to visit surrounding hilltribes with a local guide even though a couple days ago I vaguely recall declaring what a purist I was and how I only walked to these places. We were going to do the bike tour but both agreed we were still quite sore from our trek. Mariana found 2 others to join our tour to reduce our costs. Kasa was from Japan and studying to be a nuclear physicist and gave ammunition to my theory that booksmart, bright people often lack common sense or have trouble picking up on social cues. Kasa had an annoying tendency to ask really obvious, dumb questions to our guide during our hilltribe village tour “Ah, is that woman breastfeeding?” when a baby was clearly suckling on his mother’s bosom. “Oh, so is that woman showering?” “No, Kasa she is just wearing a sarong and lathering her arms and exposed breasts with a bar of soap under a water faucet as some sort of tribal courting ritual.” I mean seriously?!?

We visited 7-8 tribes…Tai Dam, Tai Lu, Tai Neua, Lolo, Yao, and of course the Akha. I found most of the tribes no longer wear traditional outfits except the elderly/older generation. I did see some some older Akha women with the silver coins on their headdresses and open jackets with exposed bosom. However, they do not like you to take their photograph and they either say no or sometimes you have to pay them which is a policy I have mixed feelings about. I see both sides to it but personally, I usually don’t. Thus, I don’t get the photo. Instead, I used my money to buy some handicrafts they were selling that I didn’t particularly want but I knew it was all handmade. I can tell a lot of time and effort went into making them and these aren’t cranked out by machines in factories. What is surreal is to see satellites outside these modest thatched houses/huts or to actually go inside one and see a dirt floor living room with no furniture and a family sitting on tiny wooden foot stools with their eyes glued to a modern TV/DVD set. 

I’m certainly glad I made the effort to go to Muang Sing because it is this tiny pocket of Laos not too touched by modern times which is soon changing, especially with China so nearby. China has a heavy presence and influence in Laos and is building roads, factories, and investing money. As for hilltribes and my fascination with them, I can’t help but think of a saying stemming from vendors in Thailand (but vendors say it all over Southeast Asia). The expression is “Same Same. But Different” and you hear it a lot. It means things are very similar (actually, sometimes this is not the case at all) but slightly different. For example, if you look at a long sleeve blouse and ask if they have it in a smaller size the vendor might hold up a totally different short sleeve blouse in your size and say “Same same. But different.” And that is how I feel about each tribe which has it’s own language, beliefs, customs, housing styles, skills whether it is weaving or embroidery, but at the end of the day it is all “Same Same. But Different.”