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We usually plan trips, look ahead to the day of departure and visualise ourselves in those majestic places. Throughout my travels I’ve learnt that playing these mental movies is not so far from living in the future, just as we do back at home, waiting for Fridays and summers. So I decided to change the script. To skip watching the trailer, and I’ve learnt that the most precious events occur spontaneously. You know the famous world serendipity right? Finding something good without looking for it. This is what Laos was for me. I didn’t really plan to go there anytime soon, to be honest. I didn’t consider it that interesting. You cannot really observe an abundance of “Travel to Laos” ads in social media platforms. For that reason, I knew I should go. I packed my bag. Booked my flight. And researched nothing. Off I went. After a few friendly encounters and some notable advice I attained from local people and charming travellers, I was already on my way to a small village of Muang Noi in the very North of the country, close to the Chinese border. The morning ride with a slow boat on Nam Ou river, surrounded by limestone mountains reminded me again why I started to travel in the first place. Not to “check in” at just another famous sight, which lost its true meaning long ago by the mass of tourists who only care about “getting that photo”, but know nothing about the history. I started traveling due to my urge for discovery of the unknown, due to desire to communicate in means beyond a spoken word. The next morning, I was already trekking with the local guy “Cow” I befriended. Rather funny guy, who couldn’t remember my name, so he called me Spoon. Easy for him, hilarious for me. He taught me a lot about Laos’ diversity and local life around those tiny villages. When I arrived there I wondered how people can spend their whole life in such a small place, but it was all explained to me once I accepted the power of simplicity. The trek was bearable and the day went well, but real school for life was sleeping in a Khmu ethnic village at the top of the mountain, which was probably the poorest place I have stayed at. They sleep on the hard wood and cook on the floor, mostly using feet as a mean of transportation. They have no direct access to drinkable water. There are many kids in the village, aged 2 to 15, but they only have two simple classrooms with one teacher. I guess they take turns in learning. I felt alien there, I knew I didn’t belong there, not even for one night. It was only a night for me, but for them its the only life they know. Yet they were happy to see me. The kids had no toys but couple of burst balloon and a bottle full of smoked cigarette filters, which they were picking up from the ground and collecting together. That was their idea of playing. At first they were scared and took a few steps back if I approached them, but I copied their “cigarette play” and they accepted me with excitement. They were not sure who I am, although not many things make sense to them anyways. One small girl was apparently so shocked by my different appearance that she cried her heart out. It all made it better when her friends came to hug her. They have nothing, but they cherish everything. There was one TV in the village and you can only imagine what an entertainment it is to them. As if a UFO landed to our lands, that is the faces they were making while watching. Nevertheless, they seemed happy and playful, all until they grow up a bit more and face the same life everyday. Lucky ones make it to the city to work or study, and the nearest hospital is miles away. I might not be able to improve their life at the moment, but I hope that my kindness and shared laughter meant something to them. Maybe it gave them hope.