Located in the north of ancient Laos, it still inhabits the area of primitive human civilization, and its name is Phongsali.

On the mountains that are taller than the clouds, in the clouds that stretch longer than the mountains, the quaint cottages follow the slash-and-burn cultivation, and the honest and warm Aka people believe in the animism of all things.

Getting to Phongsali is not easy, although from the map it only exists outside the borders of the South of the Clouds. However, when you want to get close to it, you will find that there are countless mountains and mountains between you. The process of industrialization, modern civilization, is also isolated from the universe by them.

On the way, I met a few explorers from France, and at sunrise I followed the road map drawn by the innkeeper to find the entrance to the Tianshan Mountains, and walked into the jungle where I couldn't see my fingers. You'll be willing to hear the sound of the rubbing between the soles of your shoes and the fallen leaves, and in the infinite darkness, that may be the only perception of the objective world. Try to go up and don't look back so as not to be consumed by loneliness and fear.

The journey of climbing was painful and happy, and the guide introduced various plants to everyone along the way, and at first Johnson was still very interested, but then all the doubts left were to say to himself, and if he persevered, he would come soon.

After four hours, he stopped by a large rock, and the guide took his lunch out of the bag by magic, and then went to the side to chop a banana leaf for a plate, took a small puff of each food, read it in his mouth, and then scattered it to the earth: They are for the spirit.

Until I see a not-so-tall Buddha statue on the top of the mountain in the middle of the morning, the fear will disappear. When you look up at its smiling face in the faint light, you may understand why people need it and rely on it.

The houses in the town had just been clothed in the first rays of the morning sun, and the clouds rushed up from the valley, covering the whole town with a thick white quilt. I don't know if the clouds are playing with the rooftop, or if it's racing against the sun.

Perched on a high mountain at an altitude of 1,700 meters, the clouds slowly dissipate as the temperature rises, revealing the outline of the mountain range at its top, and revealing the true face of the town.

The waves are still raging in the cloud valley, and starting from the highlands of Phongsali Town, going in any direction is like sailing into the sea, going to the depths of the sea to explore the mystery of the seabed.

There are many cottages scattered around, which are hidden deep in the mountains, and there is still no road to drive to connect with the outside world. These villages are called segregated homes. A few years ago, such a word would have been unselling to the Chinese people. However, in today's industrialization, Isolated, isolated, I am afraid that it is not just a road from the city to the countryside, but two eras with completely different ways of existence.

The first section of the road is the waterway. A lonely boat, a few benches, still water on one side, and a few stacks of green mountains. SC Johnson stared blankly at the blue sky in the water, remained silent, and enjoyed the intoxication. It suddenly occurred to me that people need to bathe before many religious ceremonies. Perhaps water not only cleanses people's bodies, but also calms people's minds.

After about half an hour of the journey, the boat docked. The road ahead finally depends on your own footsteps. The first section of the road is flat and wide, just uphill and uncovered, and the three-hour trek requires sufficient physical fitness and a constant struggle with the midday heat.

Encounter a few centipedes and earthworms, and you can hardly see people along the way. When I smelled a trace of fireworks in the world, I had already come to the first small mountain village on the way.

The middle-aged woman and a little girl on the road at the entrance of the village, when they saw us, ran away as fast as they could?

The village is located on a relatively flat plot in the high mountains, and there are about dozens of families, whose costumes suggest that they are the mysterious Akha people.

Although the Lao flag is hung over the house in the middle of the village, it's hard to associate it with a typical village, let alone a city out of reach.

There are only more than 100 people in the village, and the largest house is the patriarch's house. The village lives almost self-sufficiently, growing all its own food. Even the oil is extracted from a plant that is grown by itself.

There are many different branches of the Aka people, and it just so happens that the Aka people from whom the guide comes are the same as this one. Buffalo is an important possession for every family. Each house is elevated on stilts like the Dai people, with people living upstairs, water buffaloes enclosed downstairs, and primitive tools for handling harvested rice and stone mills for grinding cornmeal are stored on the first floor.

When visiting a family, the atmosphere is a little tense, and in this isolated village, the people in the village may not be used to getting along with the outside world. Fortunately, the French woman Judy is a sister with very good communication skills and love, so she quickly changed her image from an intruder to a friend in the eyes of the children.

The sun is about to set, take a tour of the village, and in the dozen or so grass houses halfway up the mountain, there are always children's cute little heads quietly exposed. Finally, a cheerful girl turned on the silence and said to us with body language: Come with me and take you to the hillside to watch the sunset.

As we climbed the hill behind us, the other children quietly followed us, no longer afraid of us, but still a little shy.

The setting sun blurred me and you, and in this moment, we couldn't tell each other, between us, and there was no longer a need for words.

Life in the mountains is simple and boring, monotonous and barren. People are filled with endless toiling all day long. The place where the night was spent was a family from a neighboring village. Of course, the so-called adjacency here still needs to walk the mountain road in the dark for more than an hour, until you hear the sound of the murmuring of the stream, and your heart is steady.

The first time you bathe in the river, you don't have to worry about walking away, you can't see anything but the stars. When you wash away the dust of the day, the last thing you are used to is not the cold river water, but the stars that hang in the night sky instead of the ceiling of the bath.

There was no electricity in the village, and when I woke up in the morning, I could see the house and bed where I slept yesterday.

The older children all went to school, and the remaining little ones played carefree in the village. There is a small fenced house on the hill next to it, which is the only school here.

When I went to the classroom to communicate with the students for a while, I felt that my eyes were moist when I saw the children's innocent eyes and their desire for the future.

Only to be immersed in the scene found that all the assumptions of the previous place of life have been reset to zero here. We who have become accustomed to the rhythm of Laos are no longer surprised by these unexpected accidents.

End the two-day hike. Everyone said goodbye in the moonlight, and the stars in the sky were still numerous, but without the care of darkness, the night sky no longer seemed so bright.

Laotians love noodles. The Lao noodles are the same as the dried rice in Xishuangbanna, Yunnan Province, and the taste is similar, with a large table of seasonings, including rain and dew, shrimp paste, soy sauce, monosodium glutamate, chili powder, and there will always be raw cowpeas, millet peppers, basil, and sometimes bean sprouts or watercress.