While we were photographing in the market, I spotted the old woman, pictured above, curiously watching us. While she is Flower H'mong, I tried a few words we had learned from our Black H'mong friends. It seems that their languages are quite similar, and she was delighted to have her picture taken. When she saw her picture on the back of the camera, she was completely tickled. This is a far cry from the many people in touristed areas who now ask you to take their picture and then demand money. Homie don't play that.
Another thing that I love about this region are the ponies that the people here use to transport their goods. I am also enamored of the woven bridles and wooden saddles that adorn them.
Outskirts of a Flower H'mong Village
Several years ago we visited a remote market in this region. From the looks of astonishment we received, we might as well have been landing in a spaceship, rather than creaking into the market in a Toyota minivan. We had a fascinating visit while it lasted, but it was not long before some police appeared and told us that we had to leave. If only my phrasebook had a translation from, "We mean no harm to your planet."
Several years ago we visited a remote market in this region. From the looks of astonishment we received, we might as well have been landing in a spaceship, rather than creaking into the market in a Toyota minivan. We had a fascinating visit while it lasted, but it was not long before some police appeared and told us that we had to leave. If only my phrasebook had a translation from, "We mean no harm to your planet."
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