Four leeches and 6 ticks later, we arrived at the village. I still don’t know its name but the six hour hike was the only way in or out. A good guide can make all the difference, and we had a great one. His name was Joy, I am positive that I have misspelled that, a Laos native who worked in the rice fields during the rainy season when there weren’t any tours to guide. He knew our trail like it was his own back yard and in a way it was his backyard…
The preferred method of fishing in the village was diving with a small home-made spear gun.
This was lunch for two days. A fresh banana leaf placed on the ground of the forest was the table. The sticky rice was wrapped in a banana leaf as well. The veggies and fresh fish were delicious.
Cycles of life. The Laotians burn the remnants of the old crop to prepare the soil for growing more corn.
When its over 100 degrees breaks are necessary, so we drew in the sand, talk about getting back to your roots!
While we swam in the river, a small boy from the village collected sea weed. Little did we know that it would be the main ingredient in our soup. Mmmm
Whoever said a watched pot never boils was wrong.
There were holes in the roof, I could see light peaking through during the day but when the rolling thunder and pouring rain came around we were all surprised that not a single drop made its way inside.