In April 2015, I visited for the first time a “BorderTrade and Tourism Fair” in Jinghong. It is annuallyheld on the occasion of the Dai/Tai Lue New Yearfestivities in mid-April. Whereas the exhibitionhall of the “Xishuangbanna International Conventionand Exhibition Center” housed a neatly organizedarray of booths run by an eclectically internationalblend of traders both from the region and from faraway (notably including traders from Ghana andEgypt), the outside square right in front of thehall displayed a rather disordered and crowdedscenery, resembling local fairs (赶摆ganbai) I had visitedthroughout Xishuangbanna. Among the numerous,somewhat haphazardly arranged Chinese stalls mainlyselling food, a cluster of several stalls sellingeveryday consumer goods from Thailand drew thelargest attention of the visitors. Already hearingsome Lao language, I was quickly confirmed in myinitial assumption that they were from Laos when Italked to one vendor in his mid-50s, who was calledAmnuay. He told me that they were from Luang Namthaprovince in northern Laos and regularly came over toChina to attend trade fairs. He also confirmed me inanother assumption—that they were Tai Lue. “Yes, weare all Tai Lue, like the majority of Sipsongpannahere,” he explained to me.

Only after several trips to Luang Namtha did I realize,in subsequent conversations with Amnuay and othertraders, that almost everyone (including Amnuay) whoregularly travel to those Chinese trade fairs was ofTai Dam, and not Tai Lue, ethnicity.