This morning we woke to find that the small tree to which we had moored last night was still in place! And we were still firmly tied to it! The story going round says that there had originally been a row of six trees at this spot!
The sun rose out of an early morning mist.
The river here divides and rejoins over and over again. There are little islands and sand banks all over the place. At one point we went gently aground and had to reverse off the sand bar and try a different route. The captain even broke out our own black and white graduated depth measuring poles on the bow… All a bit worrying!
By 9 o’clock we had moored up again near the small village of Nan-gat-gyi. Apparently this village had had to relocate some 750 metres away from the river after a major erosion had washed away a large part of the village. We were met by a reception committee of youngsters from the village. So that solves the problem of the school being shut! We had plenty of willing customers for our notebooks, pencils and crayons!
Lots of corn, bean, chillies and tobacco growing around the village. We were accompanied by an ever-increasing number of youngsters – some apparently dressed in their Sunday best to welcome us. We passed the funeral of one 80 year old resident and met the village elder (93 years). But mostly our entourage were in the 1-7 year age group!
The whole village seemed genuinely pleased to see us. We were given a demonstration of how to separate white beans from their pods – bash them with a lump of wood, manually lift off most of the empty pods, then put the partly separated beans through a bean sieve.
The locals have hand-pumps for water…
… and carry loads in interesting ways…
Think that’s enough for this message. Not sure the local internet can cope!. But before I go…
One of our fellow passengers walked into the ship’s lounge last night and ordered a beer. The barman put it on the bar but a monkey jumped up and drank it. So the guy ordered another but the same thing happened again.
He said to the barman “Your monkey drank my beer!”
“It’s not my monkey – it belongs to the pianist.”
The guy walked up to the pianist and says “Do you know your monkey drank my beer?”
“No, but if you hum the first few bars, I’ll try and pick it up!”
What’s the weather like? Doesn’t look as hot and humid as when we were there in November.