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When poet Nguyen Quoc Chanh came here for two days, he brought this folding cot to sleep on, although we had an extra bed for him. Carrying this cot, he arrived on the back of a motorbike taxi, then left it behind. The nearest airport is in Buon Ma Thuot, nearly two hours away.

The room on the left is our cooking and eating area, where some of our neighbors' eleven chickens sometimes sneak it, looking for food.

The laundry in the plastic tub is ready to be hung up to dry.



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