Lost World of the Annamites

摘要

The little Laotian boy rubbed the dripping snot from his nose and squatted against my leg, closer to the fire. It was December, the cold season, yet the act of keeping warm in the tropical forests of Indochina seemed strange to me. I took off my sweater and gave it to the boy, knowing I'd never see it again and annoyed at myself for thinking twice about it. Higher peaks in the distance, part of the Annamite Mountains, warned of colder nights to follow.