This morning we headed to another village called Yandabo where we learned about terracotta pottery making. I loved the village but did not appreciate the lecture. I turned of my quite vox half way through it after the tour guide repeated the process for making clay pots for the fifth time.
I wasn’t the only one, most of the people in the group were doing the same thing. It was fun to interact with the locals and there wasn’t anyone begging or selling t-shirts. These were hard-working people. At one point, I saw a girl turn the corner with a pot on her head and carrying two, one on each hand. A minute later, I saw a man carrying multiple pots.
My pictures weren’t anything inspiring and as I wandered away from the group in hope sof taking some pictures, another woman from the tour group started to talk to me. I am glad she did. Blond haired and blue-eyed, she told me her son lived in Singapore and she moved from Europe to Singapore to be with him. I enjoyed talking to her. How do you go from a cold european country to Singapore? That is a huge transition!
I wonder if they didn’t have a big cart to carry all those pots with. My mom still has and uses a big wok like for cooking big dishes for family get togethers. She likes doing it outside too sitting on a small stool.