Mountain school

North of Laos. While hiking, we had the pleasure to visit a school in a remote mountain area of Laos. It was a wonderful experience.

This is the translation of my answer to Christabell_. She asked me for the story.

Imagine walking about 3 days through valleys, rivers, and jungle and bamboo forests. You will not meet many people and the farthest you go; the stranger people will find you.

A friend of a few days - something very common while travelling - gave us the idea. "Don't go walking where millions of tourists do, there a places that are more real". The public transportation - an overcrowded open van - brought us to a village in the North of Laos. There, local groups were just starting to organize hikes in order to help the region and the indigenous villages. The number of tourist was limited by trip (we were four) and only one group per trimester was allowed. The price was low; the guides did speak almost no English at all (they were learning English and received monetary aid for that from the European Union), etc. The Government of Laos seems to have a policy to protect local ethnicities, this in contrast with the neighbouring countries like Thailand.

The school in the picture was halfway. We did not stay in that village, but went trough (and took the opportunity of visiting the school). Although the village was not used to see people from abroad, people received us with plenty of interest. My girlfriend, a teacher, gave a short class.

Walking for ever, crossing small rivers that left your legs full of leeches, or using "bridges" made of one small trunk that one fall would mean the certainty of a broken leg, at the end we arrived to a village far from everything, without road or any other connections.

Children fled with panic terror, women looked at you like if you were green. We were the second "white" people that they ever saw in their lives. Curiosity defeated fear, and the village got interested in us little by little. Women pulled my beard (I did not shave because I was lazy) and looked into the eyes of my girlfriend (she has blues eyes). The men and the children taught me some of their language and laughed wildly when I pronounced it like a mental patient.

The village chief invited us to celebrate with him with a rise spirit(the kind that burns in the inside) and as a surprise the woman virgins - with naked breasts - entered the room. They gave us a massage as an attention. They laughed from shyness like the girls they still were, and sometimes when you were lying down, they looked under your t-shirt when they thought you were not looking. The really wanted to see the colour of your skin.

I almost forgot the fatigue and the bored that I was of eating rice as breakfast, lunch and diner; but this was the food we carried on our backs. I don't think I will forget the rest.