Musings of a meanderer

Luang Namtha. Located in far far northern Laos, it's a town of many surprises, including one traffic light. And a roundabout. The main drawcard, the Nam Ha Protected area, is becoming squeezed by rubber plantations, incredibly apparent as one follows the Nam Ha river. To the left, its all gauged hills, (somewhat) paved roads and relentless rubber trees. To the right its all forest, that the 27 different ethnic minorities of the area have inhabited for years; in there somewhere are grandmas nursing opium pipes, four year olds gathering firewood, daughters foraging rattan and brothers sling-shotting squirrels.
?I was drawn here for a number of reasons. I'd made a vow that in my travels I'd settle down in a place for at least a month. That I'd share something I knew about in a meaningful way. That despite my life as a city dweller, I really did like daily adventures in the out-of-doors.

In my first week, I meandered north to the border with China, crashed my motorbike and busted my foot. I proved a terrible kayaking companion, and tore a tendon trying to make up for lack of skill with enthusiasm. I received a crash course in Laos hospitality, which involves 11am beers and a 5 hour marathon in eating drinking laughing and realising just how poor your Lao language skills are. And slowly, very very slowly, I began to understand Laos.
While I may not have created the best baristas in Laos, Luang Namtha now has a 19 year old who knows the difference between an Americano and a cappuccino, (and how to make them!) and can name a fork, spoon, teapot and glass in English. Who would quietly bring me a coffee without asked, and wait for my first sip and proclaimation of "sep lai!" (very delicious.) Who for most of her life has eaten with nothing more than her fingers, off nothing more than a banana leaf or a plastic bag.
In the end, my beautiful 'students' taught me much more than I taught them. I learnt that the word for pig is "moo" and the word for potato is "maan falang" (foreigner vegetable). I learnt that this particular falang would rather eat sour fruits dipped in chilli and salt than banana pancakes, for the explosion of giggles that this causes. ??I learnt that "Lao heart is much smaller and is broken more easily"... in the context of deciding not to stay for another month. To become yet another falang just passing through. And I ended up learning my capacity to love a handful of people I'll most likely never see again was far greater than I thought possible.