Pink hair is just about the funniest thing everybody has seen, ever. Babies, grandmothers, indigenous people, schoolboys riding dinky on the back of other schoolboys' bicycles...I have sent each of them into paroxysms of laughter, just by existing. It's nice to be the fountain of such joy.
|This is a civet that coffee beans get passed through in order to make what the Vietnamese call "weasel coffee". Nancy and I have decided that "Poop Weasel" will be our next band name.|
|These people on boats also thought my hair was funny.|
Just to be different, this section of canopy was also on fire.
This agriculture is perpetuated mostly by tiny, wiry women wearing traditional hats and as many other clothes as they can possibly manage, in an effort to avoid getting dark skin. Dark skin, as in most cultures that are naturally prone to it, is considered hideous, and only pale skin will do -- to this end, Vietnamese women wear hats, scarves, dust masks, hoodies, long-sleeved shirts, pants, gloves, and boots or flip-flops with "flesh" toned socks underneath them. Sometimes I see a lady on a scooter next to me with armpit-length white gloves, filthy with grime from the air, and wonder what she actually looks like under there. My guess? Paler than me.
|She is probably laughing at me under all those clothes.|
|Other vehicles on the road include ox-carts.|
|These shoes were in a very, very poor M'Nong village.|
|You could also be traveling by impoverished houseboat flotilla.|
|"Hey, is that a glowing LED swastika behind that Buddha?"|
How could the hotel be bad when it has an air-conditioner remote-holder that looks like this?