The village nestles in the mountain, houses stepping on tip-toe to shelter the women weaving underneath and the children chasing chickens and the river roaring nearby stamping volume on the voice of all who live in Can-eo.
The village was on mountain top, looking out over the surrounding peaks and other villages in the valley. While the elevation wasn’t high, I felt high in the atmosphere and closer to the sun, and the crystalline bowl of the sky. I can see why the Hmong would want it live here, being closer to the flip life and to their spirits.
The village nestles in the mountain, houses stepping on tip-toe to shelter the women weaving underneath and the children chasing chickens and the river roaring nearby stamping volume on the voice of all who live in Can-eo.
The village was on mountain top, looking out over the surrounding peaks and other villages in the valley. While the elevation wasn’t high, I felt high in the atmosphere and closer to the sun, and the crystalline bowl of the sky. I can see why the Hmong would want it live here, being closer to the flip life and to their spirits.