A Family in Every Pot
We made it back to camp after two days of driving a 1985 Hyundai van on steep single-track rock-strewn roads looking down at the tops of banana trees, negotiating with the village elders, hammering stalagmites, sleeping on concrete, crying at the site of someone’s dinner, having a personal moment with a large hog. And then there was the python.
I am so tired right now, this post will have to wait until tomorrow. I actually nodded off with my eyes and mouth half open today precariously seated on a pointy rock at the mouth of Tham Dook.
But first, one very exciting piece of news: When we returned to camp, unfolded ourselves out of the van, and limped over to the camp fire, Souliya said we had to go take a look at the pot. We went into the equipment room where it was still rigged up with rope. As I peaked over the rim, a perfect large skull appeared like something from a Halloween Super Store. Souliya excavated two adult and one baby skulls out of it. Joyce said she’d never seen anything like it. I certainly have never seen anything like it.
Tomorrow is the last day at the camp. I expect a lot more lugging of heavy objects will be involved.