Thursday, November 25, 2010 village in a valley in the far north of Laos, a few kilometers from the Chinese border, Muang Sing after all, is composed of little more than four roads crossed. The surrounding area is a great puzzle, however small indigenous villages and ethnic groups are relatively independent, surrounded by beautiful landscapes spledini country. The perfect place then, to escape the most renowned tourist resorts in order to know a little 'better the profound reality of this country. However small, however, Muang Sing is the principal point of commercial harvesting of the zone, since, every morning at 6.00, in the central market are to gather all the different groups what they have to trade: all kinds of vegetables, meat and fish.
People here know that there are three words in English with one hand, and mostly interacts with gestures. A bit 'limited effects, but when the base is well received in Eastern Europe and the mutual interest to know, everything becomes easier and respect, learn about the only profession Ingels language of the country, was almost automatic . Prof. has been insisted on us to attend his classes in the afternoon, as the kids had a great need to hear a cleaner and less emphasis orietale and pleased that my English, not at all excellent in these areas is also considered too refined ...  |
| transport fish .. :) |
Frame the situation in the country, and thus begins the exploration in outer bicycle. The road that leads to the Chinese border, as I said is totally surrounded by a myriad of small scale farmers, including their sometimes very different in the way of being towards the tourist-traveler. The simple fact of the matter is now well known: for better or for worse, tourism, over time, is to transform the habit and behavior of indigenous peoples, in direct proportion to its density. Seems almost a mathematical formula and human nature would say that their stuff is not converted to numbers, however, say that in general the theory the idea.
The villages in question are usually assembling of wooden stilts, focused around a central square type, which is the only direct water fountain, the context is Dry and dusty, as though, coming from the villages, fresh campaigns can be seen by huge submerged rice paddies. Life inside is undoubtedly primitive modern standards, but not very poor, meaning that water and food in general and there is almost always possible to find a room for primary education of children. Put simply, living more or less as they have always lived, unlike the case with some .... The first village meeting, just one kilometer away from the road to the Chinese border (and well marked), so give us a good reception overall, but at the same time a continuous and relentless "money ... money ... money. .. "" by children. They knew the tourists are likely to have also had some organized tour bus and were therefore well trained for their part of the game. Humanly speaking, a situation quite embarrassing and possibilmete not to be repeated, since, after all, in their eyes, unfortunately, we were just "walking money".
while continuing on the road to China, we learn of another village not reported and much more distant. After I do not know how many miles of dirt road cycling under the hot sun, with ups and downs and half a mind to give up more and more increased, there appears the goal. At first glance the village amounted to much earlier, as however, later proved to be a much more positive and interesting for the simple fact that this village the tourists I doubt they've ever hosted, except on rare occasions . With our arrival at the village entrance, a large group of men silences, embarrassment ... difficult to understand if we are welcome, so inziamo to rattle off those few words we know in Lao, they counter, smiling, but since the cartridges are finite language, gestures 
passim, but things are not far away. Magically pops out a child with a top, a manna from heaven, everyone laughs, the atmosphere then relax, we make a picture that is appreciated, with more laughter and seeing that the ice is broken, greeting continue into the village. Children of course only the most uninhibited and amused by our presence. Quickly surround us, laughing, playing and extremely curious about the hair on our legs and arms (in the East really do not have). 
However, women are more timid and occupied housework on their bowers of piles, it seemed they would not give much confindeza and almost were not sure I understood, when one of them waved us up. After making us sit on stools, we see it come back with three glasses of hot tea, and then resumes his work as a texture, which then tries to teach us. Thus, after greeting everyone, left the village, well rewarded by the splendid, however simple, Experience: came as extra terrestrial unable to communicate, we left with new acquaintances.
To close, perhaps hypocritically, perhaps wrongly, I hope that this village continues to be a special experience for the lucky few . What today has been a valuable cultural exchange designed to meet, and in other places, too often tends to turn into a cold and fake relationship, which sees the one hand the "tourist-money-than-walking," almost exclusively concerned to be a long collection of postcards from the beautiful but empty frame of reality, and second, the human zoo, crowded by people eager for money, often by following the instructions of the tourist agencies domesticated tend to change their costumes well before the audience arrives, as the latter could remain disappointed at being in front of human beings just like them, with t- shirt and jeans, instead, indigenous people with the conditions and imagined bygone era clothing. Sure as criticizing both sides? After all since everyone is happy. But sad though! 
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