Today I went on an excursion with many others. We walked among huts of an ethnic people. Some old ladies of the village wove scarves and clothes quietly. It is a very slow process. A scarf takes one month to make. Thus it is worth one month of life of an old lady. I took many photos of the patterns of scarves as drawing references. A salesperson draped a scarf on me in an elaborate fashion so that my image in the mirror became undoubtedly that of a cowboy... Since it was not of the colour of the football team I support, I didn't buy it. Then we watched a show where many of the villagers danced. The rhythm quickened as the show progressed and they moved between bamboo sticks ever so agilely.

I was still feeling dizzy and totally not myself as I still suffered from jet lag or whatever. When people started talking in French, which is a deed the Francophones easily slip into, I naturally joined the conversation. Thus it turns out that when I am not myself I can speak French too... Not too bad, but I have limited vocabulary. I want to practise French more. For example I should have written this blog in French and shown the world the million mistakes I make.