7 hours, Talat Muang Sing
noodle soup with black pudding, blood and blood tofu, decorated with offal, mushrooms that look like jellyfish and shredded cabbage. My vegetarianism is a fatal blow.
Rented a bike from a guy nervous. Direction: China! The saddle is too low, the chain oiled at all. And there must be something gone wrong with the mechanism: each spin wonder an effort to athlete Yet this road flat, smooth and straight. I travel eight kilometers with the only company with a slew of Chinese trucks loaded with sugarcane. I hold Adima - if I had two more miles, it was the border. There is a guesthouse between rice fields and mountains, away from the road. I will return to sleep in a few days.
Around Muang Sing Akha women hide all their traditional headdress in a colored handkerchief, presumably to let us stop to take pictures despite them. Fascination unattractive. Perhaps because they are on their guard and they despise the falanga? Perhaps because they have no material well-being that can laugh? Those selling bracelets in the village are hard in business. They alpaguée me earlier. First, they show trinkets. Then, as I seem skeptical, they unpack gradually worked embroideries. Nothing worked: I decided not to buy. Then one of them offered me his jacket altogether! Without doubt a very beautiful "antique" completely handmade, worn and dirty. It would sell easily two or three hundred euros in France, but there is no question that I leave with! It's like if an Akha, visiting Europe, were generally accepted by his white bra worn a hundred times - but mark. Really not happy, they become spiteful and rude, upset me in gasping, as if I had been very rudely. I try to keep smiling despite their animosity.
down from the mountains to settle around Muang Sing entire villages, Akha often find themselves without land, without money, nothing. The official version is that the government "encouraged" to join the road to "civilize" them, giving them access to drinking water, schools. But when we see hundreds of square miles of mountain forests razed to allow Chinese companies to plant rubber trees, one wonders what kind of incentives it is. I would almost hope that the "green" tourism grows to the point that the government "encourages" the Chinese investors to respect the forest.
Evening
So here I am nailed! At dusk, in a dry rice field away from the village, an orchestra plays loudly Thai pop tunes. The popping sound and high-pitched crackles from the speakers. Meanwhile, hundreds of people dressed very elegantly - pink silk, green or yellow for women, white shirt and black pants for men - a neat dance madison in straw is Soul to Beerlao.
A group of young girls wearing hats cowboys lugging someone on a sedan chair from one end to another field. Accompanied by men playing all kinds of percussion, they shout and laugh. They charge a case of beer between the legs of the tree: it looks to be his tour. U-turn. They bring their cargo at the foot of the orchestra when it opens bottles and when they drink together. When the body is finite, it appoints someone else, and go again.
But the highlight of the show, these are two men who raise a bamboo about fifteen feet long which is moored a giant firecracker. They go around the field and head to a boat launch very small scale. Everyone sings, laughs, screams. Some fall down so they are drunk. One, two, three ... Firing of bamboo!
All for the chance to call and rain. In the dry season.
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