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Vang Vieng Travel Guide

I rode shotgun in the shuttle van that took us to Vang Vieng and sat beside a tall white girl. We hardly spoke, just smiled at each other, her companions, as mine are sitting on the back seats. It’s a shared ride, the driver picked up guests from different hotels. Among them is an old French woman and as soon as my friends learned her nationality, they told her that I can speak French. I cringed at the declaration the way a kid loathes her mother for telling everyone she could sing then forces her to perform in front of her guests. But I indulged and asked the woman, “Vous êtes seule ?” (you’re alone?)

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