There is an interesting (at least to me) anecdote about this.
I was riding in a small
sang thieu (moto-bus) in northern Burma and a little girl next to me was watching as I took pictures (she was probably 10 or 12). Eventually she began 'directing' the subjects - in a very nice way of course. I let her look through the viewfinder and eventually to take a picture. She wouldn't let me take a picture of her.
During a flat-tire break, when my pack was unloaded from the roof, I pulled out a small pair of binoculars from my pack (they had been given to me as a souvenir from some techie company, actually nice finish but not powerful) and showed her how they worked. She had probably never seen binoculars before and was quite entranced with them. When the bus ride ended, I hung the binocular in their case case around her neck and said goodbye.[
Minglaba - the only word I knew] She was struck dumb.
[In a country where the income is maybe $340US per year this was probably the nicest thing she had ever received.]
I walked off to catch another
sang thieu to my destination. She ran after me, grabbed my sleeve and trailed along, talking to everyone. Everyone smiled at me, one old lady came over and patted me on the arm and, when my new ride came, everyone let me clamber on first and she waited until I left and then waved goodbye.
The following are pictures from my squashed place in the 'bus', another little girl on the bus and my ride
after I got off to give you some idea of the space and comfort in local transport. I had a good seat, against the outside, on the shady side and towards the front.
Those of us Westerners who haven't yet visited the third world need to experience it at least once.