and we finally caught up. He reached and sank in the hearts of your poisoned claw. Nostalgia. It does not help even that we are in the capital of Laos, Vientiane. The rain knocks on windows, liquid flows through the streets of Cattle of all the houses and bars, where beer after the second world seems to be no more pink and friendly, and coming from the speaker Troubles only intensifies the sense of emptiness. In my head roar, and before the eyes przewiaja August images of the last days. Laos, one of the most beautiful countries which have seen so far. Picturesque scenery, romance of the great Mekong and smiling, at peace with the world and history of the inhabitants. Laos still one of the most mined countries in the world, where he dug up by children and adults bombs (which are still full of the southern and eastern parts of the country), serve as flower pots, bells, fences, or simply sold as the most ordinary piece of iron. Laos, in which a society crippled by bombs, even though the entire dramatic situation in which the not guilty in August found its own, trying to live and enjoy every day niewiniac anyone for anything, strangely stings the heart and makes it such revelations as the phalanx of greater sensitivity (ie foreigner). Finally, Laos, probably the poorest country in which we were so far is also one of the richest.
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