This has been a week of ups and downs. Work on Monday was fantastic as I finally started a project I am actually interested in and was able to make some real progress. However, after work, everything that could go wrong did go wrong. After work I planned to head over to the tailor (to get my skirt made) that Lamnuegn had told me about, which was located a bit far from my apartment, but which appeared manageable by bike on my map.
I set off on my bicycle at 5:35 pm. I noticed almost immediately that biking was more difficult than normal, but put it down to having not ridden over the weekend and being a little out of shape. After fifteen minutes, I could no longer accept this explanation and I had to admit that I had a leaky tire. I kept my eyes peeled for a place to fill the tire with air, but spotted nothing and after five more minutes or so I reached the street where the tailor was located and decided to take care of it later. Well…the tailor was closed. I had biked so far for nothing. Accepting defeat on this point I turned around and began my trip back. Within thirty seconds it became clear I couldn’t ride my bike anymore. The front tire was fully flat and any forward movement resulted in such a tremendous wobble I feared being thrown off completely. I clambered off my bike and began to walk, pushing my bike along the side of the road.
I walked for what felt like hours, but what was, in reality, a mere fifty minutes. The tailor shop was located closer to the outskirts of Vientiane, in a part of town we normally do not go, and I can now say with certainty that I will not return to visit. This tailor shop is evidently located in a very “local” part of town where the falang do not venture. Walking back home through this area was a bit nerve wracking as everyone I passed stared at me, some pointing, simply stopping whatever they were doing to watch the falang girl push her bike down the street. The day was hot, although I was lucky that there was some cloud cover, and by the time I reached home my shirt was soaked with sweat and all I could do was collapse on my bed in exhaustion. My rest was to be brief, however, and soon it was time to leave the house for dinner.
A few weeks ago BABSEA dropped off two bikes at our apartment that we have been using as spares. I decided to use one of these bikes until I could get mine fixed. Unfortunately, some of my housemates used one of the bikes to go to someone’s house and then left there. So, on this day, we were down to one spare. I hopped aboard and was ready to go. I looked down and what should I see, but another flat tire. Yup. The spare bike also had a flat tire and I was now bikeless. Luckily, I have an amazing roommate and she hopped off her bike and insisted we walk into town and that it would be no problem. That night we walked to downtown Vientiane, quite a trek, ate dinner (which was delicious), and then walked home again in the dark. Quite the day.
Tuesday was much better. Work went well once again and after work Lamnuegn drove me to the tailors so that I could get there before it closed and wouldn’t have to make the bike ride again. The tailors took only ten minutes as the woman simply took my measurements, asked a few questions about the style and I was done! It was raining by the time I returned home, so I bundled up in my rain coat, grabbed my bike and set off to get my tire fixed. I only had to walk a few blocks and was able to watch the guy pull my tire apart, find the leak, patch it up, and put the whole thing back together again for only a 5,000 kip! I had been worried about the cost, but it was an easy and cheap fix, and I am now mobile once again! Zenia met me downtown for dinner, where we tried a Turkish restaurant, which was delicious! I had had Turkish food previously, but this tasted especially good for some reason. I ate a mixed chicken plate that gave me chicken kebab, chicken steak, and another type of chicken I can’t remember, all served with buttery rice and a small salad. Yum! If you have not had the pleasure of Turkish food (or Lebanese food or Greek food are supposed to be similar), you are definitely missing out and should correct this oversight immediately! I ended the day with a pineapple smoothie at Fruit Heaven and felt better about my wretched Monday.
Today is now Wednesday and my day has been consumed with plans for my upcoming weekend excursion. Tomorrow morning we fly to Cambodia for six days! Isn’t that exciting? We will be flying into Phnom Penh, the capital, and immediately take a bus south to Siem Reap. The next day we will take a tuk-tuk to Angkor Wat (the Eighth Wonder of the World) for a day from sunrise to sunset among the wats. That night will be spent in Siem Reap as well and on Saturday morning we will head back to Phnom Penh to spend the day and night exploring the capital. On Sunday, Saem will be heading home to Vientiane, while Zenia and I will continue on to Sihanoukville, which is located on the coast of Cambodia. Monday morning we will be touring a shelter in Sihanoukville that Rick (our ultimate boss at VFI) arranged for us to see. We will be taking an afternoon bus back to Phnom Penh on Monday and will be flying home on Tuesday evening (the earliest flight we could get). Phew! I’m tired just writing about this! It will be a crazed and hectic trip, but well worth the effort as Cambodia is not a place you want to miss. Unfortunately, due to the high crime rates in Cambodia, I will not be able to take my computer with me and we will all have to wait for new posts when I get back on Tuesday afternoon (although I probably won’t post until Wednesday morning or Tuesday night for you). I hope you all survive the deprivation! Wish me luck!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Tardy Monks
I am a punctual individual. I like to be on time for meetings, lunches with friends, or even when I’m simply following my own schedule. Some might even say I am a little OCD about this sort of thing. And this trait is emphasized when I haven’t had the proper amount of sleep and my patience is at its lowest point. Now, I know I can’t hold everyone else to these standards. There are people in the world (I just don’t understand them) who don’t worry about time. People who say, “Eh, no worries, I’ll get there and everything will be fine.” My response, “But there’s a plan! There’s a schedule!” To get through moments with these people I take deep breaths and concentrate on remaining calm and accepting that everyone in the world is different and that this is a good thing (although when these tardy people are more than thirty minutes late I start to think the world would be a better place if it was filled with Lauren clones).
In my mind, however, monks cannot be these tardy people. Monks are something so foreign and so monkish that they must be on time. I suppose a response to this statement would run along the lines of, “Whenever you get somewhere you are on time because that is where you are at that moment.” And sure, in the esoteric sense of time and your placement in the cosmos, this might be right. But in the actual civilized world we need to use another measuring bar. It’s called a clock and everyone should invest in one.
On Sunday morning our Luang Prabang Posse awoke early to watch an amazing Luang Prabang only sight - the monks of the city collecting alms. Each morning the monks come out in droves, walk down the main road of town in a long line and collect alms from everyone who comes (alms can be in any form, including rice!). We have heard it is quite an amazing sight and one well worth the effort of arising early to see. Wanting to get the most out of our experience, we naturally made a plan to rise at 5:30 am to go out and watch this procession. So at 5:30 am on Sunday, June 27, 2010 I accepted my alarms blaring tones gracefully, got up, brushed my teeth, changed into a t-shirt and long shorts, and stumbled out of my room with bleary eyes and distinctly slumped shoulders. But does my appearance really matter? No. I was there and I was ready to watch. That is enough. We headed down to the curbside to await the monks. We sat. We waited. No monks. We thought, “Well, this is Laos and everything runs on Laos time [aka late], so we’ll wait longer.”
The monks never showed! We waited for thirty minutes and nothing. I’m not sure if everyone is just having a laugh at the falang’s expense and this event doesn’t really exist or if the monks just decided to sleep in that morning, but they were quite tardy. At 6:15 am, after I had dozed off several times with my head lolling about, we called it quits. If the monks couldn’t come on time, then we wouldn’t watch! That will show them! We stumbled back up to our rooms, flopped down on our beds, and went back to sleep until 8:40 am. :)
Ok, so looking back on it all, I’m sure the monks didn’t care that we weren’t there and it was maybe a little pathetic that we couldn’t wait for them, but I really do like punctuality and it was quite early! Oh well. I would have liked to be able to describe the long line of orange and yellow robed monks with their golden pots collecting alms from the teaming crowds of people. Instead, I am left with only a description of my extreme joy at my first day of sleeping in on my trip to SE Asia. And that was wonderful and a relaxing way to being our day.
We were finally ready to leave our Villa around 10 am that morning in search of breakfast. We walked around town for a while, looking at menus, trying to find a place that would serve hash browns for me. After looking at every restaurant that served breakfast in Luang Prabang I have come to the conclusion that hash browns are the one food that has not made it to Laos. In fact, come to think of it, I don’t think potatoes have made it here. I can’t think of a single Lao dish we have eaten that has included potatoes. Hmm. Maybe that is the problem. I have come to the one country that doesn’t have potatoes. Weird.
Breakfast consisted of a pineapple smoothie, warmed baguette, and fruit salad. It was a good way to start the day and afterwards we set off to explore more of the town. We wandered around the town, enjoying our last morning in Luang Prabang. We stopped at any shop that caught our eye (purchasing some jewelry for Zenia and Saem and a silver dragon for me!), simply meandering the streets we had come to love in Luang Prabang. Our morning seemed to fly by and soon it was early afternoon. We had decided the previous day that we would eat a light breakfast and then eat an early dinner. You see, the food in Luang Prabang is amazing, but our short time in the town meant that we would not get to experience much of it. Therefore, we needed to maximize our eating abilities in Luang Prabang and toward that end we made a plan to eat a 3 pm meal that would be our dinner for the day.
Saem had already chosen our restaurant, L’Elephant aux Jardins, which turned out to be amazing! We each ordered a different meal (I continued my pasta kick) and tried each, including buffalo for Saem! (Quite delicious, by the way.) It was a long and relaxing meal, a perfect end to our time in Luang Prabang. Directly after the meal we headed back to our Villa to collect our bags and head off to the airport for our return to Vientiane. We arrived at the airport an hour and a half before our flight and sat down to wait. And wait. And wait. The time for our departure came and went. And still we waited. Finally a voice came on the loudspeaker and informed us our plane was delayed (not a surprise at this point) and our new departure time would be an hour later. And so, we continued to wait. Our plane did finally arrive, we boarded, and set off for Vientiane. The flight home was beautiful. Although it was night and therefore dark out, the sky was illuminated by lightning flashes allowing brief illumination of the mountains below and the deep black of the clouds surrounding our plane. Our flight home was short and we quickly grabbed a tuk-tuk back to our residence and settled back into life in Vientiane. I felt a decided pang of sadness on our return to Vientiane as our first vacation was over. But soon we are off again, to Cambodia this time, and the Adventures of a Bookworm Abroad shall continue!
In my mind, however, monks cannot be these tardy people. Monks are something so foreign and so monkish that they must be on time. I suppose a response to this statement would run along the lines of, “Whenever you get somewhere you are on time because that is where you are at that moment.” And sure, in the esoteric sense of time and your placement in the cosmos, this might be right. But in the actual civilized world we need to use another measuring bar. It’s called a clock and everyone should invest in one.
On Sunday morning our Luang Prabang Posse awoke early to watch an amazing Luang Prabang only sight - the monks of the city collecting alms. Each morning the monks come out in droves, walk down the main road of town in a long line and collect alms from everyone who comes (alms can be in any form, including rice!). We have heard it is quite an amazing sight and one well worth the effort of arising early to see. Wanting to get the most out of our experience, we naturally made a plan to rise at 5:30 am to go out and watch this procession. So at 5:30 am on Sunday, June 27, 2010 I accepted my alarms blaring tones gracefully, got up, brushed my teeth, changed into a t-shirt and long shorts, and stumbled out of my room with bleary eyes and distinctly slumped shoulders. But does my appearance really matter? No. I was there and I was ready to watch. That is enough. We headed down to the curbside to await the monks. We sat. We waited. No monks. We thought, “Well, this is Laos and everything runs on Laos time [aka late], so we’ll wait longer.”
The monks never showed! We waited for thirty minutes and nothing. I’m not sure if everyone is just having a laugh at the falang’s expense and this event doesn’t really exist or if the monks just decided to sleep in that morning, but they were quite tardy. At 6:15 am, after I had dozed off several times with my head lolling about, we called it quits. If the monks couldn’t come on time, then we wouldn’t watch! That will show them! We stumbled back up to our rooms, flopped down on our beds, and went back to sleep until 8:40 am. :)
Ok, so looking back on it all, I’m sure the monks didn’t care that we weren’t there and it was maybe a little pathetic that we couldn’t wait for them, but I really do like punctuality and it was quite early! Oh well. I would have liked to be able to describe the long line of orange and yellow robed monks with their golden pots collecting alms from the teaming crowds of people. Instead, I am left with only a description of my extreme joy at my first day of sleeping in on my trip to SE Asia. And that was wonderful and a relaxing way to being our day.
We were finally ready to leave our Villa around 10 am that morning in search of breakfast. We walked around town for a while, looking at menus, trying to find a place that would serve hash browns for me. After looking at every restaurant that served breakfast in Luang Prabang I have come to the conclusion that hash browns are the one food that has not made it to Laos. In fact, come to think of it, I don’t think potatoes have made it here. I can’t think of a single Lao dish we have eaten that has included potatoes. Hmm. Maybe that is the problem. I have come to the one country that doesn’t have potatoes. Weird.
Breakfast consisted of a pineapple smoothie, warmed baguette, and fruit salad. It was a good way to start the day and afterwards we set off to explore more of the town. We wandered around the town, enjoying our last morning in Luang Prabang. We stopped at any shop that caught our eye (purchasing some jewelry for Zenia and Saem and a silver dragon for me!), simply meandering the streets we had come to love in Luang Prabang. Our morning seemed to fly by and soon it was early afternoon. We had decided the previous day that we would eat a light breakfast and then eat an early dinner. You see, the food in Luang Prabang is amazing, but our short time in the town meant that we would not get to experience much of it. Therefore, we needed to maximize our eating abilities in Luang Prabang and toward that end we made a plan to eat a 3 pm meal that would be our dinner for the day.
Saem had already chosen our restaurant, L’Elephant aux Jardins, which turned out to be amazing! We each ordered a different meal (I continued my pasta kick) and tried each, including buffalo for Saem! (Quite delicious, by the way.) It was a long and relaxing meal, a perfect end to our time in Luang Prabang. Directly after the meal we headed back to our Villa to collect our bags and head off to the airport for our return to Vientiane. We arrived at the airport an hour and a half before our flight and sat down to wait. And wait. And wait. The time for our departure came and went. And still we waited. Finally a voice came on the loudspeaker and informed us our plane was delayed (not a surprise at this point) and our new departure time would be an hour later. And so, we continued to wait. Our plane did finally arrive, we boarded, and set off for Vientiane. The flight home was beautiful. Although it was night and therefore dark out, the sky was illuminated by lightning flashes allowing brief illumination of the mountains below and the deep black of the clouds surrounding our plane. Our flight home was short and we quickly grabbed a tuk-tuk back to our residence and settled back into life in Vientiane. I felt a decided pang of sadness on our return to Vientiane as our first vacation was over. But soon we are off again, to Cambodia this time, and the Adventures of a Bookworm Abroad shall continue!
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Another Mountain to Climb
Today we woke up early to get started on a fun filled day in Luang Prabang. Breakfast was included in the price of our guesthouses, so I ate warmed baguette with butter and fresh fruit. After our quick start, we set out to explore the sights of Luang Prabang. We began our day at the Royal Palace Museum that was conveniently located directly across the road from our Villa. We walked around the block to the entrance, paid the 30,000 kip fee to enter and went inside.
The Royal Palace at Luang Prabang is probably the least ostentatious palace I have ever visited. It is a relatively new building, built in the early 1900s for some of the last royalty of Laos (I think the last royal died in the 1970s). The compound that houses the Palace also holds a wat, a garage for the royal cars, and a theater center. In the 1970s the Palace was converted to a National Museum and now features historical objects from around Laos, with special focus on items from Luang Prabang. The exhibits were interesting; particularly a series of cases featuring various gifts from foreign countries. On the shelf of US gifts there was a small Laos flag that had been transported to the moon on Apollo 11 and a few small pieces of the moon encased in glass. (Nicely done, America!) Other exhibits included Buddha statues from all over Laos, bronze drums, and golden daises for monks and royalty. We toured the entire Museum in under an hour and a half, not a difficult feat as the Palace is quite small by even Museum standards, let alone palace standards, and moved outside.
We meandered around the Palace grounds after our tour of the Palace, taking a look at the royal cars (mostly Fords that were gifted by the US) and the wat. By the time we were finished with the Royal Palace National Museum grounds it was quite hot and we were ready for a change of clothes. In Laos and many other regions of SE Asia there are very conservative dress codes for major buildings and centers that you may want to visit. When visiting any Wat or temple it is important for the knees and shoulders to be covered and best for women to wear long pants. While some falang do not respect these rules and show up to the wats in shorts and tank tops, it is important to be respectful of the Buddhist culture and conform to their rules when viewing their temples. This is particularly true in these countries where all of the wats are still in use today and are places of worship for the local people, rather than simply being tourist locations. In national buildings, such as museums, the government asks that you also follow these rules of respectful dress in other places as well. Therefore, at the Museum I was dressed in a t-shirt and long skirt. Not an outfit that would immediately make you think, “Wow, she must be dying from the heat,” but in the humidity of SE Asia, any additional length of cloth is too much and I was ready to change into shorts and a tank top for the rest of our day.
We headed back out to visit some more wats (I had changed into longish shorts and a shoulder covering tank top) around the city. We strolled along the riverfront, enjoying the midmorning and the view of the Mekong River. We stopped at any shop that caught our eye, bought some fruit smoothies and made our way to one of the two main wats in the Old City of Luang Prabang. Wat Xieng Thong is located near the end of the peninsula and is quite different from other wats around Laos. Most wats sport a three tiered roofline, nagas (serpent figures that mythology says could turn into humans) on each eave, gold gilding everywhere and scenes from Buddhist writings on every available surface on the interior of the wat. Wat Xieng Thong lived up to this tradition, but added a few quirks that make it particularly unique. The front of the Wat was not gilded with the traditional gold, but covered in beautiful mosaic tiles that glittered like jewels in the sun. Deep blues, greens and reds wink out from every surface, dazzling the eye and enticing the viewer closer. The rest of the Wat appears to conform to the traditional Wat motif, but walking around the Wat reveals more unique sights. Each Wat consists of the main building, several smaller mini-shrines/temples, and a few spires or stupas. In this case, one of the other buildings was painted a brilliant red and was covered in small tiles that depicted various scenes and images. Most wats are not decorated in this manner, featuring either unadorned stone siding or gold gilding. The time and effort it must have taken to mosaic these immense buildings is astounding to ponder and it made the 20,000 kip entrance fee to the wat well worth the price.
We meandered our way away from Wat Xieng Thong and the end of the peninsula, heading back toward our Villa and then turning up a side street to reach the other main road of Luang Prabang (there are three and we had just walked down two). We stopped at a small café we found after a search for another café recommended by Lonely Planet turned up nothing (we suspect the Coulour Café has closed). We ended up choosing Daofa Café, which was delicious. I actually ordered a pasta dish – fresh fettuccini noodles with a Bolognese sauce. Yum! I think that, food wise at the very least, the interns in Laos have it the best. While I adore Laos food and am enjoying my foray into this very secret cuisine (“very secret” as it hasn’t traveled abroad yet and it’s hard to find as a falang even while in this country since they assume you won’t like and therefore order you Thai food instead of Laos food if you ask for a recommendation), it is nice to have a break. In many of the other countries, looking for other types of food can be quite tricky and usually produces very strange results (if you’ve never had a blend of Mexican and Asian cuisines…count yourself lucky and don’t ever try it! Imagine fried rice with red beans thrown in being labeled “Mexican Fried Rice” and you haven’t even scratched the surface of the horrors that await). Here in Laos there are myriad types of food, any food you could possibly want including, Indian, Turkish, American, Thai, French, Italian, and, of course, Laos. When I originally heard I was traveling to Laos I was a little concerned about the food. After all, this is a country that only opened its borders in the 90s, so how much outside influence in food could it possibly have? And, I had never eaten Lao food, so there was no guarantee I would like it. Luckily, Laos has blown me away and each night I go to bed full and happy after having tried a new restaurant and a new type of food.
Our lunch concluded, we needed something to do with our afternoon and while we had originally thought to hire a tuk-tuk to take us outside the city to visit some waterfalls nearby, the day was simply too hot to even consider this plan. Instead, our eyes were caught by a spa sign hanging up across the road from Doafa featuring 40,000 kip ($5) foot massages. Intrigued, we went over for a closer look. In front of the shop was a stand with a binder on it. This binder was the “menu” of massages offered by the spa. We looked closer. A wide array of massages were available for our pleasure: foot massages, head massages, full body massages, back massages, neck massages, etc. We stood in front of the menu, each absorbed in our own thoughts about the possibility of getting a massage during our afternoon. My thoughts went something like this: “Wow. It’s hot. I’m dying. Literally, dying. How can one country be so hot? They’re looking at massages. I’ve never had one. Hot. I don’t know that I want one now. Sweat is so gross. Ooo. Misters inside and reclining chairs. Heat stroke is coming! I’m in! I want a foot massage!” And so, we agreed. The afternoon would be best spent getting a one hour foot massage (although Zenia opted for ½ foot massage and ½ neck/shoulder massage). We went inside.
For those of you who have never seen me receive a foot massage, it is quite a sight and even I must admit it is quite funny to watch. Years of torture from my older sister (not to name names…Raelin!) left me with extremely ticklish feet. Any time Jana, another sister, gives me a pedicure my feet jerk and twitch at even the slightest contact. I sit stiff as a board in my chair, trying not to move a muscle as pain at suppressing my ticklish tendencies fills me. This reaction has gotten slightly better with time – my left eye no longer twitches. :)
As you can see, I was understandably nervous about my imminent HOUR long foot massage. But, that massage was…bliss. I am sitting here, remembering it and I can’t help but feel a little kernel of joy deep within at the thought of my massage. It was incredible! Twenty minutes into the massage I knew that one hour was a perfect length of time. My feet were rubbed, scrubbed, prodded, poked, rotated, etc. It was the most thorough massage I have ever had, with specific pressure points pressed to release tension and stress. The entire massage ended with a brief back, neck, and head massage and a final spinal twist. I left the massage feeling like a puddle of goo. My feet felt reinvented and ready to walk for days, an incredibly welcome feeling as before the massage they were starting to hurt and I had been worried about the amount of walking left to do that day. We were so relaxed by this experience we decided to go back to our Villa for a rest during the hottest part of the day (I know…that heat after lunch wasn’t even the worst of it) and to get a little more energy for hike up the mountain, That Phu Si, to Wat Tham Phu Si.
As I have previously mentioned, Luang Prabang is settled in a basin at the junction of the Mekong and Nam Khan Rivers, surrounded by mountains. While the city itself is quite flat, there is one mountain in the very center of town. It springs up out of nowhere, a single mountain rising out of the ground in the middle of the basin. At the top of this mountain, called That Phu Si, a wat was built…well, more of just a spire than a wat, but they call it a wat and who am I to say different? The only way to reach the wat is to climb a long set of stairs to the top. You start your journey up the mountain feeling pretty good. After all, it’s a good workout and how hard can it be to walk up a few stairs? The answer…pretty hard. We walked up about 130 steps and reached a small plateau where a building had been erected on our left and a tree that had been a gift from India had been planted on the right. By the time we reached this point our thighs were burning and we were huffing and puffing at the exertion. After sever photos of the tree, we were told by the little man sitting in the building that we now needed to pay an entrance fee to see the wat and continue on our journey. At this point I was already tired of the stairs, but I thought it couldn’t be much further and I had already climbed quite a ways and that sort of effort should not be put to waste by climbing down without seeing the actual wat. We paid our fee and turned toward the second set of stairs. As I neared the stairs I stopped in shock. Written on the two short pillars on either side of the stairs were four pithy words and some numbers. On the right, “138 steps down” and on the left, “Still 190 steps up.” What?! 190 steps to go?! I couldn’t believe it. Stairs are horrific and I had 190 left. Nothing was going to stop me from reaching the top, however. I had paid 20,000 kip to see that wat and I would see it! I continued on my journey, therefore, and soon made it up to Wat Tham Phu Si.
It was a beautiful sight from the top of the mountain. Walking around the golden spire at the top you could see every bit of the city and surrounding countryside with a view only occasionally impeded by large trees growing out of the stone top of the mountain (an incredible sight all on its own). We sat at the top of the mountain for a while, simply enjoying the view, and reflecting on the beauty of the land. As you sat and looked out, you could see the Rivers meet and meander away from Luang Prabang and the mountains rising around the city in every direction, seeming to protect the city from anything outside. All too soon it was time to climb back down the mountain so that we could visit the Night Market once again to finish picking up some souvenirs and to enjoy our last Night Market in Luang Prabang.
Before our final shopping/bargaining extravaganza, we bought some smoothies as a refresher after our long and arduous hike (although looking back on it, it is hard to say that was arduous, especially since I hiked Doi Suthep in Thailand, but at the time it seemed quite difficult). Our shakes were as delicious as always, but were presented to us in a new and unusual form. Instead of being poured into a plastic cup, they were deposited into a plastic bag! Yes, our smoothies were poured into a small clear plastic bag and then put into another plastic bag with handles for easy carrying. A straw was inserted into the mixture and voila! One smoothie in a bag! It was a bit of a shock when I was first handed the bag, but it was a lot of fun, walking around with a blue bag full of pineapple goodness. :)
We had an equally good time at the Market on Saturday as we did on Friday, although we shopped with more purpose, having each made a list of items that needed to be bought. We left the Market a bit after 7:30 pm and headed out to the bar district to get some food, a couple cocktails, and watch the football game (Saem wanted to watch badly as it was Korea’s final match). We ate dinner at the Lau Lau Garden, which, it turns out, has abysmal food. (Good cocktails, but terrible food.) We moved on quickly after our meal, of which I didn’t eat much, and went two doors down to the Hive, a more modern, edgy bar where the game was projected onto a large screen. I ordered some bruschetta there, continuing my Italian food trend, which was delicious, and a Hivecocktail, which was less delicious. We had a lovely, relaxing evening, watching the game, sipping cocktails, and enjoying our evening. As we watched, clouds rolled over the moon and lightening began illuminating the sky in quick bursts every 45 seconds or so. It was beautiful and after the game we headed home under the flashes of light. We ended our evening early as we had plans to wake up at 5:30 am for a special activity in the morning, but we’ll talk more about that tomorrow…
The Royal Palace at Luang Prabang is probably the least ostentatious palace I have ever visited. It is a relatively new building, built in the early 1900s for some of the last royalty of Laos (I think the last royal died in the 1970s). The compound that houses the Palace also holds a wat, a garage for the royal cars, and a theater center. In the 1970s the Palace was converted to a National Museum and now features historical objects from around Laos, with special focus on items from Luang Prabang. The exhibits were interesting; particularly a series of cases featuring various gifts from foreign countries. On the shelf of US gifts there was a small Laos flag that had been transported to the moon on Apollo 11 and a few small pieces of the moon encased in glass. (Nicely done, America!) Other exhibits included Buddha statues from all over Laos, bronze drums, and golden daises for monks and royalty. We toured the entire Museum in under an hour and a half, not a difficult feat as the Palace is quite small by even Museum standards, let alone palace standards, and moved outside.
We meandered around the Palace grounds after our tour of the Palace, taking a look at the royal cars (mostly Fords that were gifted by the US) and the wat. By the time we were finished with the Royal Palace National Museum grounds it was quite hot and we were ready for a change of clothes. In Laos and many other regions of SE Asia there are very conservative dress codes for major buildings and centers that you may want to visit. When visiting any Wat or temple it is important for the knees and shoulders to be covered and best for women to wear long pants. While some falang do not respect these rules and show up to the wats in shorts and tank tops, it is important to be respectful of the Buddhist culture and conform to their rules when viewing their temples. This is particularly true in these countries where all of the wats are still in use today and are places of worship for the local people, rather than simply being tourist locations. In national buildings, such as museums, the government asks that you also follow these rules of respectful dress in other places as well. Therefore, at the Museum I was dressed in a t-shirt and long skirt. Not an outfit that would immediately make you think, “Wow, she must be dying from the heat,” but in the humidity of SE Asia, any additional length of cloth is too much and I was ready to change into shorts and a tank top for the rest of our day.
We headed back out to visit some more wats (I had changed into longish shorts and a shoulder covering tank top) around the city. We strolled along the riverfront, enjoying the midmorning and the view of the Mekong River. We stopped at any shop that caught our eye, bought some fruit smoothies and made our way to one of the two main wats in the Old City of Luang Prabang. Wat Xieng Thong is located near the end of the peninsula and is quite different from other wats around Laos. Most wats sport a three tiered roofline, nagas (serpent figures that mythology says could turn into humans) on each eave, gold gilding everywhere and scenes from Buddhist writings on every available surface on the interior of the wat. Wat Xieng Thong lived up to this tradition, but added a few quirks that make it particularly unique. The front of the Wat was not gilded with the traditional gold, but covered in beautiful mosaic tiles that glittered like jewels in the sun. Deep blues, greens and reds wink out from every surface, dazzling the eye and enticing the viewer closer. The rest of the Wat appears to conform to the traditional Wat motif, but walking around the Wat reveals more unique sights. Each Wat consists of the main building, several smaller mini-shrines/temples, and a few spires or stupas. In this case, one of the other buildings was painted a brilliant red and was covered in small tiles that depicted various scenes and images. Most wats are not decorated in this manner, featuring either unadorned stone siding or gold gilding. The time and effort it must have taken to mosaic these immense buildings is astounding to ponder and it made the 20,000 kip entrance fee to the wat well worth the price.
We meandered our way away from Wat Xieng Thong and the end of the peninsula, heading back toward our Villa and then turning up a side street to reach the other main road of Luang Prabang (there are three and we had just walked down two). We stopped at a small café we found after a search for another café recommended by Lonely Planet turned up nothing (we suspect the Coulour Café has closed). We ended up choosing Daofa Café, which was delicious. I actually ordered a pasta dish – fresh fettuccini noodles with a Bolognese sauce. Yum! I think that, food wise at the very least, the interns in Laos have it the best. While I adore Laos food and am enjoying my foray into this very secret cuisine (“very secret” as it hasn’t traveled abroad yet and it’s hard to find as a falang even while in this country since they assume you won’t like and therefore order you Thai food instead of Laos food if you ask for a recommendation), it is nice to have a break. In many of the other countries, looking for other types of food can be quite tricky and usually produces very strange results (if you’ve never had a blend of Mexican and Asian cuisines…count yourself lucky and don’t ever try it! Imagine fried rice with red beans thrown in being labeled “Mexican Fried Rice” and you haven’t even scratched the surface of the horrors that await). Here in Laos there are myriad types of food, any food you could possibly want including, Indian, Turkish, American, Thai, French, Italian, and, of course, Laos. When I originally heard I was traveling to Laos I was a little concerned about the food. After all, this is a country that only opened its borders in the 90s, so how much outside influence in food could it possibly have? And, I had never eaten Lao food, so there was no guarantee I would like it. Luckily, Laos has blown me away and each night I go to bed full and happy after having tried a new restaurant and a new type of food.
Our lunch concluded, we needed something to do with our afternoon and while we had originally thought to hire a tuk-tuk to take us outside the city to visit some waterfalls nearby, the day was simply too hot to even consider this plan. Instead, our eyes were caught by a spa sign hanging up across the road from Doafa featuring 40,000 kip ($5) foot massages. Intrigued, we went over for a closer look. In front of the shop was a stand with a binder on it. This binder was the “menu” of massages offered by the spa. We looked closer. A wide array of massages were available for our pleasure: foot massages, head massages, full body massages, back massages, neck massages, etc. We stood in front of the menu, each absorbed in our own thoughts about the possibility of getting a massage during our afternoon. My thoughts went something like this: “Wow. It’s hot. I’m dying. Literally, dying. How can one country be so hot? They’re looking at massages. I’ve never had one. Hot. I don’t know that I want one now. Sweat is so gross. Ooo. Misters inside and reclining chairs. Heat stroke is coming! I’m in! I want a foot massage!” And so, we agreed. The afternoon would be best spent getting a one hour foot massage (although Zenia opted for ½ foot massage and ½ neck/shoulder massage). We went inside.
For those of you who have never seen me receive a foot massage, it is quite a sight and even I must admit it is quite funny to watch. Years of torture from my older sister (not to name names…Raelin!) left me with extremely ticklish feet. Any time Jana, another sister, gives me a pedicure my feet jerk and twitch at even the slightest contact. I sit stiff as a board in my chair, trying not to move a muscle as pain at suppressing my ticklish tendencies fills me. This reaction has gotten slightly better with time – my left eye no longer twitches. :)
As you can see, I was understandably nervous about my imminent HOUR long foot massage. But, that massage was…bliss. I am sitting here, remembering it and I can’t help but feel a little kernel of joy deep within at the thought of my massage. It was incredible! Twenty minutes into the massage I knew that one hour was a perfect length of time. My feet were rubbed, scrubbed, prodded, poked, rotated, etc. It was the most thorough massage I have ever had, with specific pressure points pressed to release tension and stress. The entire massage ended with a brief back, neck, and head massage and a final spinal twist. I left the massage feeling like a puddle of goo. My feet felt reinvented and ready to walk for days, an incredibly welcome feeling as before the massage they were starting to hurt and I had been worried about the amount of walking left to do that day. We were so relaxed by this experience we decided to go back to our Villa for a rest during the hottest part of the day (I know…that heat after lunch wasn’t even the worst of it) and to get a little more energy for hike up the mountain, That Phu Si, to Wat Tham Phu Si.
As I have previously mentioned, Luang Prabang is settled in a basin at the junction of the Mekong and Nam Khan Rivers, surrounded by mountains. While the city itself is quite flat, there is one mountain in the very center of town. It springs up out of nowhere, a single mountain rising out of the ground in the middle of the basin. At the top of this mountain, called That Phu Si, a wat was built…well, more of just a spire than a wat, but they call it a wat and who am I to say different? The only way to reach the wat is to climb a long set of stairs to the top. You start your journey up the mountain feeling pretty good. After all, it’s a good workout and how hard can it be to walk up a few stairs? The answer…pretty hard. We walked up about 130 steps and reached a small plateau where a building had been erected on our left and a tree that had been a gift from India had been planted on the right. By the time we reached this point our thighs were burning and we were huffing and puffing at the exertion. After sever photos of the tree, we were told by the little man sitting in the building that we now needed to pay an entrance fee to see the wat and continue on our journey. At this point I was already tired of the stairs, but I thought it couldn’t be much further and I had already climbed quite a ways and that sort of effort should not be put to waste by climbing down without seeing the actual wat. We paid our fee and turned toward the second set of stairs. As I neared the stairs I stopped in shock. Written on the two short pillars on either side of the stairs were four pithy words and some numbers. On the right, “138 steps down” and on the left, “Still 190 steps up.” What?! 190 steps to go?! I couldn’t believe it. Stairs are horrific and I had 190 left. Nothing was going to stop me from reaching the top, however. I had paid 20,000 kip to see that wat and I would see it! I continued on my journey, therefore, and soon made it up to Wat Tham Phu Si.
It was a beautiful sight from the top of the mountain. Walking around the golden spire at the top you could see every bit of the city and surrounding countryside with a view only occasionally impeded by large trees growing out of the stone top of the mountain (an incredible sight all on its own). We sat at the top of the mountain for a while, simply enjoying the view, and reflecting on the beauty of the land. As you sat and looked out, you could see the Rivers meet and meander away from Luang Prabang and the mountains rising around the city in every direction, seeming to protect the city from anything outside. All too soon it was time to climb back down the mountain so that we could visit the Night Market once again to finish picking up some souvenirs and to enjoy our last Night Market in Luang Prabang.
Before our final shopping/bargaining extravaganza, we bought some smoothies as a refresher after our long and arduous hike (although looking back on it, it is hard to say that was arduous, especially since I hiked Doi Suthep in Thailand, but at the time it seemed quite difficult). Our shakes were as delicious as always, but were presented to us in a new and unusual form. Instead of being poured into a plastic cup, they were deposited into a plastic bag! Yes, our smoothies were poured into a small clear plastic bag and then put into another plastic bag with handles for easy carrying. A straw was inserted into the mixture and voila! One smoothie in a bag! It was a bit of a shock when I was first handed the bag, but it was a lot of fun, walking around with a blue bag full of pineapple goodness. :)
We had an equally good time at the Market on Saturday as we did on Friday, although we shopped with more purpose, having each made a list of items that needed to be bought. We left the Market a bit after 7:30 pm and headed out to the bar district to get some food, a couple cocktails, and watch the football game (Saem wanted to watch badly as it was Korea’s final match). We ate dinner at the Lau Lau Garden, which, it turns out, has abysmal food. (Good cocktails, but terrible food.) We moved on quickly after our meal, of which I didn’t eat much, and went two doors down to the Hive, a more modern, edgy bar where the game was projected onto a large screen. I ordered some bruschetta there, continuing my Italian food trend, which was delicious, and a Hivecocktail, which was less delicious. We had a lovely, relaxing evening, watching the game, sipping cocktails, and enjoying our evening. As we watched, clouds rolled over the moon and lightening began illuminating the sky in quick bursts every 45 seconds or so. It was beautiful and after the game we headed home under the flashes of light. We ended our evening early as we had plans to wake up at 5:30 am for a special activity in the morning, but we’ll talk more about that tomorrow…
Friday, June 25, 2010
Travels to Luang Prabang
Greetings, faithful followers! I have just returned from a glorious trip to Luang Prabang in Northern Laos and cannot wait to share all of my travel adventures with you all. Over the course of my three days in Luang Prabang I followed the plan I outlined in my last post – hand writing entries and notes in my journal to keep my memory fresh for when I return to write it all up on my computer. I am now working on writing everything out in proper blog-post format, but I have noticed that even the distance from my computer each night is not curtailing the amount I write in each post. Therefore, I will be writing up each day of my journey as a separate post and you will have to wait for a new installment each day. Now, let’s get started…
Luang Prabang is located in Northern Laos and is a registered World Heritage Site (although I’m not quite sure what that designation means, I suspect it has something to do with the rich cultural history found in that region as the city is a religious epicenter and old capital of Indochina). While overnight buses are available to take you from Vientiane to Luang Prabang, this mode of travel uses up way too much time when you only have three days, so Zenia, Saem, and I decided to fly up via Laos Airlines. We left work at noon to return home and finish packing in preparation for our trip and were picked up by the VFI truck at 1 pm, which Talia had arranged to take us to the airport. After dropping Nate, Rachel, and JJ off at the bus depot for their trip to Vang Vieng (a drinking, pot-smoking oasis), we headed toward the airport. Along the way, we bribed our driver for a quick stop at Fruit Heaven (we bought him a mango smoothie) as a farewell to our favorite smoothie place in Laos that we would be bereft of for three whole days. My pineapple-apple smoothie was delicious, as usual, a wonderful blend of flavors that makes my taste buds sing.
We arrived at the airport three hours (!) before our flight, as we had to take the truck at VFIs convenience rather than our own. We were accidentally dropped off at the International Departure Gates, which are fairly nice, but were soon directed toward the Domestic Gates (a two minute or less walk to the building next door), which were considerably less nice. As we were an hour too early even for checking in for our flight, we had to wait in the general lobby of the airport. We sat in uncomfortable blue seats in an area without air conditioning to await our check in time, watching a Thai TV soap opera (which I immediately recognized from an earlier episode we saw in Salavan) and napping. We checked in for our flight at 2 pm and were able to head into the departure area to await our flight, which was, thankfully, air conditioned. To reach this waiting area we had to pass through customs (yes, you must pass through customs even on a domestic flight here, although all they check is your ticket against your passport information). The wait did not feel as bad to me as it did to the others (I had packed a book to read) and at 4:15 pm we had boarded our plane and were ready for our 4:30 pm departure time.
The flight from Vientiane to Luang Prabang is short and easy, a mere forty minutes long. The instant we were airborne I fell asleep and only awakened when we began our descent into Luang Prabang. The city and surrounding countryside looked incredible from the air. The city sits in a basin, bordered by the Mekong River and the Nam Khan River, the land on which the Old City rests forming a peninsula where the two rivers meet. Northern Laos around Luang Prabang is filled with mountains. As you descend out of the cloud cover toward your destination you are confronted with densely forested mountains, tall, craggy and rough. There is something about these mountains that feels jagged and sharp even though they are covered in green and trees occupy every portion of ground that is not cleared into plots for agriculture (and there are very few plots in the mountains). The mountains feel at once old and young as you stare down at them. The peaks are not the smooth sided, gentle slopes of mountains you would associate with age and having been worn down by wind and water, but jagged to such a degree that even the blanket of green forest cannot cover or smooth. The aged feel of the land comes from the knowledge of its history, but the mountains suggest something new and untouched.
We flew over these peaks until we reached a basin and saw the Mekong River cutting a wide swath through the countryside. The basin is the site of Luang Prabang, nestled into this mountainous terrain directly next to the River. Our plane landed at the airport outside of town, although “outside” is a relative term here as it only took ten minutes to reach the city center from the airport. When we stepped off the plane we had expected it to be a bit cooler as we were further North, but it was just as hot and perhaps a bit more humid than Vientiane. Our hotel had sent a driver to meet us at the airport, so we didn’t have to fuss with a tuk-tuk, which can be quite a hassle in these countries as they often have deals with local guesthouses to tell tourists that their intended residence is uninhabitable, closed, or a terrible place to stay in an effort to get you to stay somewhere else. The driver (who we suspect also owns the guesthouse) drove us around town a bit so we could orient ourselves and see some of the sights briefly.
Luang Prabang is quite small, but has an amazing feel and atmosphere. As you walk around town you feel safe, welcome, and relaxed by the aura this place exudes. While we have heard that there is occasionally a purse snatching or some other nefarious occurrence, it is hard to believe when you are standing in downtown Luang Prabang with its sleepy streets and congenial atmosphere. The city was highly influenced by the French (and I can easily see why the colonizing French would prefer to settle in Luang Prabang), so the streets have red brick sidewalks, the houses are very French looking with balconies, French doors, and other foreign quirks. As you walk down the street, it would be easy to imagine you are somewhere in France from the architecture alone.
After our drive, we went to our guesthouse, which was located in the heart of the Old City. It was called Villa Laodeum and it is a beautiful place to stay that I would recommend to anyone coming to Luang Prabang (and quite affordable too at only $22/night for a double occupancy room). Our room was beautiful, located upstairs with hardwood floors, pretty green walls, and an excellent air conditioning system (a must have in any place you stay in SE Asia). We dropped off our belongings after drinking our complimentary orange juice given to us during our check in and then headed out to explore the Luang Prabang Night Market (as it was now 5:30 pm), which was conveniently located just two blocks from Villa Laodeum.
I must say that this was my favorite Night/Day/Local Market I have visited so far (in Thailand or Laos). The Night Market in Chiang Mai was fun, but way too intense and frenzied. The Luang Prabang Night Market is significantly smaller (about 1/10 of the size or so), but more peaceful and relaxing. The Night Market in Chiang Mai was a mass of people, stalls, and activity. There never seemed to be a moment where you could simply breathe in Chiang Mai; even the simple act of walking down the street at the Chiang Mai Market was exhausting. The Luang Prabang Market is quite different. The people in Luang Prabang are quieter, more willing to allow you to look at the goods before attacking you for a sale, they sit on a blanket behind their wares, rather than moving around and getting in your face as they do in Thailand, and they are more willing to bargain here. In addition, the items sold at this Market are almost all (except a very few, aka the BeerLao shirts) local handcrafts, rather than the jumble found in Thailand (where you sometimes wanted to search for the Made in China sticker). At the Luang Prabang Night Market it is easy to stroll through the street, glancing at the silk scarves, wooden bowls, silver jewelry, paintings, and cobra whiskey (literally, a cobra in a bottle of whiskey) for sale at each stall. While the goods may have been slightly more expensive than what could be found in Vientiane or other large cities, I preferred buying my goods there as I know that 100% of the money is going into the hands of the maker as opposed to a good percentage going to a middle man in the other locations.
I went on something of a spending spree while at the Market. My first purchase was a small bottle of rice wine alcohol for my family to try. Our wandering attention at the Market was caught early by a stall covered with bottles of all sizes, some of which were filled with cobras, other types of snakes, and scorpions! Saem wanted to stop to buy a bottle of cobra whiskey that our friend Samir stationed in Bangkok had requested someone buy for him. In Luang Prabang, as soon as you stop at a stall a small stool is offered so you can sit down, examine the wares, and bargain more comfortably. You take the small stool, sit down in front of the stall, and begin the buying process. Bargaining in this country is definitely an art form. You must show interest and admiration for the goods, but not appear too eager. It is best if a white person can be shopping with a non-white person (Asian) as the price for a white falang goes up exponentially when we are alone. Each side of the bargaining group must insist they are doing the other a favor. Protestations of “Good price, just for you” and “Lucky day for you, only for you” are commonly heard and they must be returned with “I only buy from you” and “I only want to buy this from you, out of everyone at the Market.” You must go into the process with a great deal of patience as buying five scarves can take ten minutes of bargaining once they are all picked out. It’s an exhausting process, but can be quite enjoyable if you are in the mood.
We sat down at the cobra whiskey stall and began the process, which involved drinking a shot of 15% rice wine alcohol. As soon as that shot was down we were refilled with a shot of Lao Lao, a 50% alcohol that most of the Lao people drink. It feels like a ball of fire sliding down your throat and I would suggest only consuming it in the form of a mixed drink in the future. I only took a little sip and decided that was enough sampling of strange alcohols and we were ready to bargain. This purchase was acquired quite quickly and we were off once again. Over the course of walking the market for the next couple hours I also purchased a silver ring and necklace for myself, a cute shirt, two Laos silk scarves, and other odds and ends. I don’t know what came over me (perhaps the Lao Lao), but I bought more that night than I had in SE Asia so far. I had a lot of fun trying out my horrendous bargaining skills (I really am terrible at it as I can’t help but feel bad that I am asking for a lower price – something that is fairly taboo in America), which could explain my overzealous purchasing. *See below for an example of my bargaining prowess.
I’m still having some trouble reconciling myself to parting with 40,000 kip on a single purchase and have to keep reminding myself that this is only around $5 and not that much to spend. I suppose I will finally adjust when I’m ready to head back to Thailand. :) The Market was full of colors and people, an oddly beautiful sight to behold if you look at it properly. There is just something quintessentially SE Asian about it (although you never know, it might be a Western construction the people here have simply fallen in line with) that it made me stop and appreciate once again where I was – traveling in SE Asia. After we concluded our business at the market, we dropped our purchases off at our guesthouse, changed clothes, and headed out for dinner and fun.
We ate at a restaurant recommended by everyone (Zenia’s friend, Lonely Planet, Vanessa, and a website on eco-friendly tourism Vanessa recommended to me), called Tamarind. The food was spectacular! The restaurant was a quick walk from our residence (five minutes) and served authentic, traditional Laos cuisine with some modern quirks. We began with a dipping platter that offered four traditional dips served with sticky rice. It featured a smoky eggplant dip, fresh tomato dip, chili paste, and a fiery chili dip. They were all superb and ended up being my entire meal as my main course arrived covered in egg (so Saem ate it for me!). Dessert consisted of a fresh fruit plate with a chili-sugar dipping blend. It was a thoroughly enjoyable meal, which we all consumed in culinary delight. After dinner we headed out to explore the night life, heading toward the one section of town with bars. We decided to go bar hopping on Saturday as it was already quite late (10 pm) and the bars only stay open until 11 pm. After examining the array of bars available (three main bars) we chose the Lao Lao Garden for drinks. This bar/eatery is a fun little place with an ever continuing path behind the main building into gardens with tables here and there among the plants. We sampled some Lao cocktails, which was a bold move on our parts as the main liquor ingredient is Lao Lao. Luckily only about ¼ of a shot is used in a single cocktail, so the fire is muted and the effects aren’t quite as horrendous (it is entirely possible to get drunk on a single shot). We had a lot of fun hanging out until closing time at which point we headed back to our guesthouse. Our plans for Saturday were quite extensive, so we headed off to bed and were asleep when our heads hit the pillows at 12:30.
Lauren Buying Two Silk Scarves-
Lauren- These are very beautiful scarves.
Woman passes Lauren a stool to sit down
Lauren- Are these Laos silk?
Woman- Laos silk. Number One. (Lauren assumes this means they are top quality)
Lauren looks at Laos scarves as the woman unfolds every scarf her eyes pause on
Lauren- How much?
Woman- 120,000 Kip each. Pointing…120,000 kip, 120,000 kip…
Lauren- That’s too much, I can’t afford that.
Woman- Special price just for you. Good deal for you. Lucky day.
Lauren- It would have to be a very good deal.
Lauren Continues looking at scarves; Woman whips out a calculator
Woman- How much you pay?
Lauren types in 40,000
Woman- Ohhh! Too low.
Woman types in 110,000
Lauren- Too much. I buy two. I don’t have much money.
Woman- Silk number one, very good price just for you.
Woman types in 90,000
Lauren- Still too much. I’m buying two, just from you. Out of all these people I only want to buy from you.
Woman- I give you very good deal, but just for you. Lucky day for you.
Woman types in 80,000
Lauren- Still too much. I can’t afford that much. I still have to pay for my guesthouse. I don’t have much money to spend.
Lauren types in 100,000
Lauren- I’ll pay this much for two. I’ll buy two from you for this price.
Woman- Too low.
Woman types in 120,000
Woman- This for two. You buy two for this. Lucky day for you.
Lauren- Too high.
Lauren types in 105,000
Woman- Ok, that is good
Lauren passes over money, woman passes over scarves
Lauren- Kawp Chai
Woman- Kawp Chai lai lai.
End Scene.
Luang Prabang is located in Northern Laos and is a registered World Heritage Site (although I’m not quite sure what that designation means, I suspect it has something to do with the rich cultural history found in that region as the city is a religious epicenter and old capital of Indochina). While overnight buses are available to take you from Vientiane to Luang Prabang, this mode of travel uses up way too much time when you only have three days, so Zenia, Saem, and I decided to fly up via Laos Airlines. We left work at noon to return home and finish packing in preparation for our trip and were picked up by the VFI truck at 1 pm, which Talia had arranged to take us to the airport. After dropping Nate, Rachel, and JJ off at the bus depot for their trip to Vang Vieng (a drinking, pot-smoking oasis), we headed toward the airport. Along the way, we bribed our driver for a quick stop at Fruit Heaven (we bought him a mango smoothie) as a farewell to our favorite smoothie place in Laos that we would be bereft of for three whole days. My pineapple-apple smoothie was delicious, as usual, a wonderful blend of flavors that makes my taste buds sing.
We arrived at the airport three hours (!) before our flight, as we had to take the truck at VFIs convenience rather than our own. We were accidentally dropped off at the International Departure Gates, which are fairly nice, but were soon directed toward the Domestic Gates (a two minute or less walk to the building next door), which were considerably less nice. As we were an hour too early even for checking in for our flight, we had to wait in the general lobby of the airport. We sat in uncomfortable blue seats in an area without air conditioning to await our check in time, watching a Thai TV soap opera (which I immediately recognized from an earlier episode we saw in Salavan) and napping. We checked in for our flight at 2 pm and were able to head into the departure area to await our flight, which was, thankfully, air conditioned. To reach this waiting area we had to pass through customs (yes, you must pass through customs even on a domestic flight here, although all they check is your ticket against your passport information). The wait did not feel as bad to me as it did to the others (I had packed a book to read) and at 4:15 pm we had boarded our plane and were ready for our 4:30 pm departure time.
The flight from Vientiane to Luang Prabang is short and easy, a mere forty minutes long. The instant we were airborne I fell asleep and only awakened when we began our descent into Luang Prabang. The city and surrounding countryside looked incredible from the air. The city sits in a basin, bordered by the Mekong River and the Nam Khan River, the land on which the Old City rests forming a peninsula where the two rivers meet. Northern Laos around Luang Prabang is filled with mountains. As you descend out of the cloud cover toward your destination you are confronted with densely forested mountains, tall, craggy and rough. There is something about these mountains that feels jagged and sharp even though they are covered in green and trees occupy every portion of ground that is not cleared into plots for agriculture (and there are very few plots in the mountains). The mountains feel at once old and young as you stare down at them. The peaks are not the smooth sided, gentle slopes of mountains you would associate with age and having been worn down by wind and water, but jagged to such a degree that even the blanket of green forest cannot cover or smooth. The aged feel of the land comes from the knowledge of its history, but the mountains suggest something new and untouched.
We flew over these peaks until we reached a basin and saw the Mekong River cutting a wide swath through the countryside. The basin is the site of Luang Prabang, nestled into this mountainous terrain directly next to the River. Our plane landed at the airport outside of town, although “outside” is a relative term here as it only took ten minutes to reach the city center from the airport. When we stepped off the plane we had expected it to be a bit cooler as we were further North, but it was just as hot and perhaps a bit more humid than Vientiane. Our hotel had sent a driver to meet us at the airport, so we didn’t have to fuss with a tuk-tuk, which can be quite a hassle in these countries as they often have deals with local guesthouses to tell tourists that their intended residence is uninhabitable, closed, or a terrible place to stay in an effort to get you to stay somewhere else. The driver (who we suspect also owns the guesthouse) drove us around town a bit so we could orient ourselves and see some of the sights briefly.
Luang Prabang is quite small, but has an amazing feel and atmosphere. As you walk around town you feel safe, welcome, and relaxed by the aura this place exudes. While we have heard that there is occasionally a purse snatching or some other nefarious occurrence, it is hard to believe when you are standing in downtown Luang Prabang with its sleepy streets and congenial atmosphere. The city was highly influenced by the French (and I can easily see why the colonizing French would prefer to settle in Luang Prabang), so the streets have red brick sidewalks, the houses are very French looking with balconies, French doors, and other foreign quirks. As you walk down the street, it would be easy to imagine you are somewhere in France from the architecture alone.
After our drive, we went to our guesthouse, which was located in the heart of the Old City. It was called Villa Laodeum and it is a beautiful place to stay that I would recommend to anyone coming to Luang Prabang (and quite affordable too at only $22/night for a double occupancy room). Our room was beautiful, located upstairs with hardwood floors, pretty green walls, and an excellent air conditioning system (a must have in any place you stay in SE Asia). We dropped off our belongings after drinking our complimentary orange juice given to us during our check in and then headed out to explore the Luang Prabang Night Market (as it was now 5:30 pm), which was conveniently located just two blocks from Villa Laodeum.
I must say that this was my favorite Night/Day/Local Market I have visited so far (in Thailand or Laos). The Night Market in Chiang Mai was fun, but way too intense and frenzied. The Luang Prabang Night Market is significantly smaller (about 1/10 of the size or so), but more peaceful and relaxing. The Night Market in Chiang Mai was a mass of people, stalls, and activity. There never seemed to be a moment where you could simply breathe in Chiang Mai; even the simple act of walking down the street at the Chiang Mai Market was exhausting. The Luang Prabang Market is quite different. The people in Luang Prabang are quieter, more willing to allow you to look at the goods before attacking you for a sale, they sit on a blanket behind their wares, rather than moving around and getting in your face as they do in Thailand, and they are more willing to bargain here. In addition, the items sold at this Market are almost all (except a very few, aka the BeerLao shirts) local handcrafts, rather than the jumble found in Thailand (where you sometimes wanted to search for the Made in China sticker). At the Luang Prabang Night Market it is easy to stroll through the street, glancing at the silk scarves, wooden bowls, silver jewelry, paintings, and cobra whiskey (literally, a cobra in a bottle of whiskey) for sale at each stall. While the goods may have been slightly more expensive than what could be found in Vientiane or other large cities, I preferred buying my goods there as I know that 100% of the money is going into the hands of the maker as opposed to a good percentage going to a middle man in the other locations.
I went on something of a spending spree while at the Market. My first purchase was a small bottle of rice wine alcohol for my family to try. Our wandering attention at the Market was caught early by a stall covered with bottles of all sizes, some of which were filled with cobras, other types of snakes, and scorpions! Saem wanted to stop to buy a bottle of cobra whiskey that our friend Samir stationed in Bangkok had requested someone buy for him. In Luang Prabang, as soon as you stop at a stall a small stool is offered so you can sit down, examine the wares, and bargain more comfortably. You take the small stool, sit down in front of the stall, and begin the buying process. Bargaining in this country is definitely an art form. You must show interest and admiration for the goods, but not appear too eager. It is best if a white person can be shopping with a non-white person (Asian) as the price for a white falang goes up exponentially when we are alone. Each side of the bargaining group must insist they are doing the other a favor. Protestations of “Good price, just for you” and “Lucky day for you, only for you” are commonly heard and they must be returned with “I only buy from you” and “I only want to buy this from you, out of everyone at the Market.” You must go into the process with a great deal of patience as buying five scarves can take ten minutes of bargaining once they are all picked out. It’s an exhausting process, but can be quite enjoyable if you are in the mood.
We sat down at the cobra whiskey stall and began the process, which involved drinking a shot of 15% rice wine alcohol. As soon as that shot was down we were refilled with a shot of Lao Lao, a 50% alcohol that most of the Lao people drink. It feels like a ball of fire sliding down your throat and I would suggest only consuming it in the form of a mixed drink in the future. I only took a little sip and decided that was enough sampling of strange alcohols and we were ready to bargain. This purchase was acquired quite quickly and we were off once again. Over the course of walking the market for the next couple hours I also purchased a silver ring and necklace for myself, a cute shirt, two Laos silk scarves, and other odds and ends. I don’t know what came over me (perhaps the Lao Lao), but I bought more that night than I had in SE Asia so far. I had a lot of fun trying out my horrendous bargaining skills (I really am terrible at it as I can’t help but feel bad that I am asking for a lower price – something that is fairly taboo in America), which could explain my overzealous purchasing. *See below for an example of my bargaining prowess.
I’m still having some trouble reconciling myself to parting with 40,000 kip on a single purchase and have to keep reminding myself that this is only around $5 and not that much to spend. I suppose I will finally adjust when I’m ready to head back to Thailand. :) The Market was full of colors and people, an oddly beautiful sight to behold if you look at it properly. There is just something quintessentially SE Asian about it (although you never know, it might be a Western construction the people here have simply fallen in line with) that it made me stop and appreciate once again where I was – traveling in SE Asia. After we concluded our business at the market, we dropped our purchases off at our guesthouse, changed clothes, and headed out for dinner and fun.
We ate at a restaurant recommended by everyone (Zenia’s friend, Lonely Planet, Vanessa, and a website on eco-friendly tourism Vanessa recommended to me), called Tamarind. The food was spectacular! The restaurant was a quick walk from our residence (five minutes) and served authentic, traditional Laos cuisine with some modern quirks. We began with a dipping platter that offered four traditional dips served with sticky rice. It featured a smoky eggplant dip, fresh tomato dip, chili paste, and a fiery chili dip. They were all superb and ended up being my entire meal as my main course arrived covered in egg (so Saem ate it for me!). Dessert consisted of a fresh fruit plate with a chili-sugar dipping blend. It was a thoroughly enjoyable meal, which we all consumed in culinary delight. After dinner we headed out to explore the night life, heading toward the one section of town with bars. We decided to go bar hopping on Saturday as it was already quite late (10 pm) and the bars only stay open until 11 pm. After examining the array of bars available (three main bars) we chose the Lao Lao Garden for drinks. This bar/eatery is a fun little place with an ever continuing path behind the main building into gardens with tables here and there among the plants. We sampled some Lao cocktails, which was a bold move on our parts as the main liquor ingredient is Lao Lao. Luckily only about ¼ of a shot is used in a single cocktail, so the fire is muted and the effects aren’t quite as horrendous (it is entirely possible to get drunk on a single shot). We had a lot of fun hanging out until closing time at which point we headed back to our guesthouse. Our plans for Saturday were quite extensive, so we headed off to bed and were asleep when our heads hit the pillows at 12:30.
Lauren Buying Two Silk Scarves-
Lauren- These are very beautiful scarves.
Woman passes Lauren a stool to sit down
Lauren- Are these Laos silk?
Woman- Laos silk. Number One. (Lauren assumes this means they are top quality)
Lauren looks at Laos scarves as the woman unfolds every scarf her eyes pause on
Lauren- How much?
Woman- 120,000 Kip each. Pointing…120,000 kip, 120,000 kip…
Lauren- That’s too much, I can’t afford that.
Woman- Special price just for you. Good deal for you. Lucky day.
Lauren- It would have to be a very good deal.
Lauren Continues looking at scarves; Woman whips out a calculator
Woman- How much you pay?
Lauren types in 40,000
Woman- Ohhh! Too low.
Woman types in 110,000
Lauren- Too much. I buy two. I don’t have much money.
Woman- Silk number one, very good price just for you.
Woman types in 90,000
Lauren- Still too much. I’m buying two, just from you. Out of all these people I only want to buy from you.
Woman- I give you very good deal, but just for you. Lucky day for you.
Woman types in 80,000
Lauren- Still too much. I can’t afford that much. I still have to pay for my guesthouse. I don’t have much money to spend.
Lauren types in 100,000
Lauren- I’ll pay this much for two. I’ll buy two from you for this price.
Woman- Too low.
Woman types in 120,000
Woman- This for two. You buy two for this. Lucky day for you.
Lauren- Too high.
Lauren types in 105,000
Woman- Ok, that is good
Lauren passes over money, woman passes over scarves
Lauren- Kawp Chai
Woman- Kawp Chai lai lai.
End Scene.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Weekdays
I know what you are all thinking. It wasn’t hard to figure out. “Lauren, where have you been?! We’ve been looking for a new post and there has been nothing!” I will admit: I’ve been very bad. I haven’t written since Monday and I’ve left you all hanging. The truth of the matter is I’ve been trying to figure out what to say and I’ve come up with a few things to describe my current situation…
I’m settled. I’ve built a nest. I have become a stationary traveler. These thoughts boil down to one general idea: my life is not very exciting during the week as I am not traveling anymore, but am living in one location. My days are largely the same as I’m sure you’ve all noticed. I get up in the morning, head off to work, work all day, go home, go out for the evening, and then back home to repeat the process on the next day. Not very interesting fodder for a blog. Therefore, in the interest of saving your sanity (and mine – it is very disheartening to realize I have not done anything of interest to an outsider that day), I am cutting back on my during-the-week blog posts. Although, in actuality, it will be the opposite; but let me explain.
Every weekend I have left in SE Asia is to be spent traveling around the region in an attempt to see something of the bordering countries before I return to the US in August. I will be spending a few of the weekends in various parts of Northern Laos, one weekend in Cambodia, and one weekend in Vietnam. My plan is to blog about these small trips, which will be much more interesting than my daily life here in Vientiane. Unfortunately, I will not be able to take my computer to most of these places as there is a serious threat of theft in most. Therefore, I will be taking notes during my travels, then returning to Vientiane and writing it all up for you during the week. Posts will, therefore, be coming during the weekdays, with no new posts on the weekends. If something interesting happens during the week that I feel should be shared, I will write it up for you, but I will no longer bore you with the day-to-day recap of my life.
I hope this is an arrangement that satisfies everyone’s need for further travel adventures. This weekend (starting tomorrow actually), you will have a trip to look forward to as I am heading off to Luang Prabang in Northern Laos! Saem, Zenia and I will be there for three-ish days (we are heading out Friday afternoon and coming back Sunday evening). Therefore, you can look forward to a new post on Monday morning (Sunday night for you)! I miss you all!
I’m settled. I’ve built a nest. I have become a stationary traveler. These thoughts boil down to one general idea: my life is not very exciting during the week as I am not traveling anymore, but am living in one location. My days are largely the same as I’m sure you’ve all noticed. I get up in the morning, head off to work, work all day, go home, go out for the evening, and then back home to repeat the process on the next day. Not very interesting fodder for a blog. Therefore, in the interest of saving your sanity (and mine – it is very disheartening to realize I have not done anything of interest to an outsider that day), I am cutting back on my during-the-week blog posts. Although, in actuality, it will be the opposite; but let me explain.
Every weekend I have left in SE Asia is to be spent traveling around the region in an attempt to see something of the bordering countries before I return to the US in August. I will be spending a few of the weekends in various parts of Northern Laos, one weekend in Cambodia, and one weekend in Vietnam. My plan is to blog about these small trips, which will be much more interesting than my daily life here in Vientiane. Unfortunately, I will not be able to take my computer to most of these places as there is a serious threat of theft in most. Therefore, I will be taking notes during my travels, then returning to Vientiane and writing it all up for you during the week. Posts will, therefore, be coming during the weekdays, with no new posts on the weekends. If something interesting happens during the week that I feel should be shared, I will write it up for you, but I will no longer bore you with the day-to-day recap of my life.
I hope this is an arrangement that satisfies everyone’s need for further travel adventures. This weekend (starting tomorrow actually), you will have a trip to look forward to as I am heading off to Luang Prabang in Northern Laos! Saem, Zenia and I will be there for three-ish days (we are heading out Friday afternoon and coming back Sunday evening). Therefore, you can look forward to a new post on Monday morning (Sunday night for you)! I miss you all!
Monday, June 21, 2010
Silk Scarves and the Laos Walmart
My approach to the day today was simple: exploration and relaxation. Those were my two guidelines for the day and I must admit I was quite successful. Work ended at a reasonable hour today and after I headed home I changed quickly out of my work attire and into my regular clothes. Continuing with our plan of exploring the back alleys and small shops of downtown Vientiane, Zenia, Saem and I rode our bikes to Fruit Heaven for a little smoothie goodness and then set out on foot to explore.
I can now say with absolute certainty that the only way to explore Vientiane is on foot. People on motorbikes zoom through the city as if they are in a race and those on bicycles must concentrate fiercely on the road to avoid being a casualty of those motorbike drivers. As you whip down the roads, unable to look right or left at the streets and shops, you miss the heart of Vientiane. The only way to see it all is to hop off your mode of transportation and take to the city streets on foot. Knowing this was the case, the three of us did just that.
While drinking delicious watermelon and lemon smoothies, we meandered our way down the road, stopping at any shops that looked good to us. We spent time exploring a silk shop (where we purchased some amazing silk scarves) and two bookstores (at my insistence). Unfortunately, my book loving tendencies ran rampant and I succumbed to a burning desire for books, purchasing two books here, a Terry Pratchett and Bill Bryson. :) It couldn’t be helped! They were each under $10 and were in beautiful condition. *sigh* As I write this I am disgusted with myself. I came to SE Asia and am now dragging home two heavy books I could buy in the states (for a higher price though). I really am an addict.
We continued on our journey once I was dragged out of book-love stupor and we turned down another alley, which led us to a large, brightly lit building. The sight took us by complete surprise as we had become accustomed to the small Mom-and-Pop establishments that liter the streets of SE Asia. In front of us stood a large, multi-storied building that looked similar to any large, cheap Walmart/K-Mart/Target type store you would find in the US. While this was not what we had some downtown to find, we couldn’t resist the pull of the store and our burning desire to see what was inside. Well…it is the Laos Walmart! This is the store no one will tell you about! It was full of everything you would want to buy including groceries, bedding, silverwear, bags, etc. It was amazing and we stood in shock and awe at the array of items available, no longer priced at the exorbitant costs of $3, now only $1.50! It was a revelation that the Lao people do have such a store and felt pretty good. They had tried to hide their Walmart and claimed to be above such things as “superstores,” but we had found it! *evil laugh*
After we left the store it was quite late at night so we headed to our dinner destination, an Indian restaurant called The Taj Mahal. We sat at a small table, surrounded by a surprising number of brown people (Indians). The food took a while to appear (we’re now used to receiving our food in under 10 minutes as is the Asian way), but it was worth the wait. Saem and I requested Zenia order for us and this turned out to be the best practice. The restaurant, a building that opened in the front, but with a closed room in back where we were seated, was covered in bollywood posters, most of which I recognized due to my extreme love of bollywood films. :) We ate family style, ordering dishes for the table and loading up our plates, picking up the food with our naan, and enjoying every bite.
I rode home in perfect contentment, full of good Indian food and happy at my relaxing evening of exploration.
A Few More Observations on SE Asian Culture:
1. It is a perfectly acceptable practice to drive on the wrong side of the road. If the road has a barrier between your lanes that does not allow you to turn where you need to turn, simply drive on the wrong side of the road (on the wrong side of the barrier!) and turn where you will. Don’t worry…others will swerve for you.
2. SE Asians have no filter. It’s amazing. Whatever they are thinking, they will say. For example, if you are a slightly overweight individual, it would not be uncommon for a local to come up, poke you in the stomach, and tell you you’re fat. Store owners will even run you out of their shops if they think you are too big (it happened to a friend in Chiang Mai), insisting that no clothes there would fit you and you must go somewhere else. This candid behavior is not reserved for the falang, but enjoyed by everyone. So when coming to SE Asia, you might want to slim down a bit, because you’re going to be called fat otherwise!
3. The people here think it is hilarious that we don’t understand their language. One girl in the office (I’m not sure what her name is yet) keeps coming up to me, speaking in Lao and then asking, “Do you understand?” My reply of “No.” sends her into gales of laughter, as if she expected it to change overnight. Evidently, my ignorance is a constant source of amusement. I’m not sure how long she will continue this practice (it has been two weeks so far), but as long as it keeps her amused and she later switches to English for the rest of our conversation (she speaks excellent English) we will get along well.
4. There are an astonishing number of falang in Vientiane. It is incredible, but as you walk down the streets of the city, you will pass what feels like hundreds of falant everywhere, tourists, workers for NGOs (there are a LOT of NGOs in Laos), and expats. It seems you can’t take a step here without stumbling over a falang. And if you think about it, I am one of those falang!
I can now say with absolute certainty that the only way to explore Vientiane is on foot. People on motorbikes zoom through the city as if they are in a race and those on bicycles must concentrate fiercely on the road to avoid being a casualty of those motorbike drivers. As you whip down the roads, unable to look right or left at the streets and shops, you miss the heart of Vientiane. The only way to see it all is to hop off your mode of transportation and take to the city streets on foot. Knowing this was the case, the three of us did just that.
While drinking delicious watermelon and lemon smoothies, we meandered our way down the road, stopping at any shops that looked good to us. We spent time exploring a silk shop (where we purchased some amazing silk scarves) and two bookstores (at my insistence). Unfortunately, my book loving tendencies ran rampant and I succumbed to a burning desire for books, purchasing two books here, a Terry Pratchett and Bill Bryson. :) It couldn’t be helped! They were each under $10 and were in beautiful condition. *sigh* As I write this I am disgusted with myself. I came to SE Asia and am now dragging home two heavy books I could buy in the states (for a higher price though). I really am an addict.
We continued on our journey once I was dragged out of book-love stupor and we turned down another alley, which led us to a large, brightly lit building. The sight took us by complete surprise as we had become accustomed to the small Mom-and-Pop establishments that liter the streets of SE Asia. In front of us stood a large, multi-storied building that looked similar to any large, cheap Walmart/K-Mart/Target type store you would find in the US. While this was not what we had some downtown to find, we couldn’t resist the pull of the store and our burning desire to see what was inside. Well…it is the Laos Walmart! This is the store no one will tell you about! It was full of everything you would want to buy including groceries, bedding, silverwear, bags, etc. It was amazing and we stood in shock and awe at the array of items available, no longer priced at the exorbitant costs of $3, now only $1.50! It was a revelation that the Lao people do have such a store and felt pretty good. They had tried to hide their Walmart and claimed to be above such things as “superstores,” but we had found it! *evil laugh*
After we left the store it was quite late at night so we headed to our dinner destination, an Indian restaurant called The Taj Mahal. We sat at a small table, surrounded by a surprising number of brown people (Indians). The food took a while to appear (we’re now used to receiving our food in under 10 minutes as is the Asian way), but it was worth the wait. Saem and I requested Zenia order for us and this turned out to be the best practice. The restaurant, a building that opened in the front, but with a closed room in back where we were seated, was covered in bollywood posters, most of which I recognized due to my extreme love of bollywood films. :) We ate family style, ordering dishes for the table and loading up our plates, picking up the food with our naan, and enjoying every bite.
I rode home in perfect contentment, full of good Indian food and happy at my relaxing evening of exploration.
A Few More Observations on SE Asian Culture:
1. It is a perfectly acceptable practice to drive on the wrong side of the road. If the road has a barrier between your lanes that does not allow you to turn where you need to turn, simply drive on the wrong side of the road (on the wrong side of the barrier!) and turn where you will. Don’t worry…others will swerve for you.
2. SE Asians have no filter. It’s amazing. Whatever they are thinking, they will say. For example, if you are a slightly overweight individual, it would not be uncommon for a local to come up, poke you in the stomach, and tell you you’re fat. Store owners will even run you out of their shops if they think you are too big (it happened to a friend in Chiang Mai), insisting that no clothes there would fit you and you must go somewhere else. This candid behavior is not reserved for the falang, but enjoyed by everyone. So when coming to SE Asia, you might want to slim down a bit, because you’re going to be called fat otherwise!
3. The people here think it is hilarious that we don’t understand their language. One girl in the office (I’m not sure what her name is yet) keeps coming up to me, speaking in Lao and then asking, “Do you understand?” My reply of “No.” sends her into gales of laughter, as if she expected it to change overnight. Evidently, my ignorance is a constant source of amusement. I’m not sure how long she will continue this practice (it has been two weeks so far), but as long as it keeps her amused and she later switches to English for the rest of our conversation (she speaks excellent English) we will get along well.
4. There are an astonishing number of falang in Vientiane. It is incredible, but as you walk down the streets of the city, you will pass what feels like hundreds of falant everywhere, tourists, workers for NGOs (there are a LOT of NGOs in Laos), and expats. It seems you can’t take a step here without stumbling over a falang. And if you think about it, I am one of those falang!
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Bring Back the Rain!
We arrived at the Southern Vientiane Bus Station at 6:30 am this morning. After our night aboard the “Jester’s Bus,” it felt good to be back in our home town. We were picked up and dropped off (at home) by Lamnuegn’s sister, finally arriving back at our residence at 7 am. The first two matters of business taken care of in about an hour and a half (unpacking and showering), Zenia and I headed out to put our sightseeing day plan of action into motion. The lost weekend of fever and pain (aka last weekend) had put us behind in our explorations of the sights of Vientiane and before leaving on our trip last week, we decided to come home on Sunday and make up for lost time by getting in as much sightseeing as possible.
We headed to our favorite smoothie bar for some fruity goodness to start our day off right, and after slurping the smoothies down, we headed over to a Scandinavian Bakery we had been told by everyone (everyone we knew who had visited Vientiane and Lonely Planet) was a must see/eat. While the food was good, I’m not really sure what all the fuss was about. It was good, but not that much better than other cafes/bakeries in this city and certainly not worth all the adulation it has received. In any event, the food was good and it started the day off right. After our delightful breakfast, we met Saem at Monument Books (just around the corner) and then set off on our bikes for Patu Xay. During traditional hours (luckily on weekends too) tourists are permitted to climb the stairs leading to the top of Patu Xay where the sightseer can get a view of the entire city of Vientiane on a clear day.
Today was just such a clear day, clear and hot…no…HOT. Unfortunately, Vientiane is going through something of a drought, currently eight days with no rain. The lack of rain has caused the temperatures to soar to unbelievable highs and it is now so hot that as soon as you leave the comfort of air conditioning a layer of sweat coats your entire body. The city is muggy and oppressive, feeling as if a storm is just around the corner while no clouds are in the sky. As we cycled down the main road in Vientiane, the sun beat down on our heads, seeming to mock our efforts to tour the city, dropping our energy levels to nil and making any exposed skin burn. Saem and Zenia struggled in the heat, growing more tired and heat-hate-filled with every move we made. I can only surmise that my fever immunized me from some of the worst effects of the heat, for though I felt hot and sweaty and uncomfortable, it was not as unbearable to me as it was to them. Perhaps something good came of that wretched fever? Something to consider…perhaps Vientiane likes me after all.
We made it to Patu Xay and even climbed the stairs to the top where we were able to gaze out over the city. It looked very similar to any other rooftop view of a city: a bunch of buildings you could just make out and some roads. However, it was a pretty sight, only slightly marred by the lack of shade. We stayed for only a little while and then made our way back down the five staircases and across the street to our parked bikes.
The second stop on our list was Pha That Luang, a golden stupa located about five minutes from the center of town. The golden spire is a very important religious epicenter for Lao Buddhism and a gorgeous place to visit. Today, we biked to the monument, a distance equal to that of our house to Patu Xay. Unfortunately for us, this portion of our journey was slightly uphill. We rode again under the blazing sun, sweating so profusely it dripped down our faces. By the time we reached the monument, we were so hot it was unbelievable. While I’m sure That Luang would have been impressive under normal circumstances (a giant golden spire against a brilliant blue sky is quite a sight to see), in our heat filled delirium, we could not enjoy it. The most we could bring ourselves to do was walk under the eaves of the wall surrounding the spire where there was shade, admiring from a distance and praying we would survive.
We decided quickly that we had seen enough and left the spire on our bikes to head home. To give you a further example of just how hot it has been here…when we arrived home, I immediately went into our room, switched on the air conditioning, and laid down on my bed to await survival or death. As I am writing this blog, it is clear I survived, but I feel sure it was a near miss. I had fully cooled down and was no longer sweaty when Zenia called me out of our room (the epicenter of all that is wonderful and air conditioned) to help with the laundry. As soon as I stepped out of our room I was once again covered in a layer of sweat. Every inch of my skin glistened with moisture, impossible to dry off in the stunning humidity.
In self defense, Zenia and I stayed in for most of the afternoon, until Lamnuegn came by at 3 pm to take us shopping for silk to make me a traditional Lao skirt. Unfortunately, she came on her motorbike rather than in her car and Zenia and I were forced back onto our bikes to endure another ride downtown in the heat. If the outside was a sauna, it was nothing compared to the inside of the market. We went to the daily market, located across the street from the Morning Market in downtown Vientiane. Imagine a huge warehouse, many blocks long, filled with stalls of cloth, clothes, shoes, purses, etc. Everything you could imagine. Each stall is about a seven foot square, with merchandise (enough for a store) hanging from every available surface in the small space. To find the good silk, you must travel deep into the belly of the beast, heading under fluorescent lights into the deepest recesses of the market, where air is scarce and the heat nearly unbearable. Even for the locals it is almost too much and as we walked, we saw most stall owners lying down on the floors behind their front tables, unmoving, with a fan blowing air directly on their heads.
It took an hour of shopping in this sauna to find the proper silk. The process of buying silk is intense. You must know where you want the silk to be from, what kind of silk you want, what pattern on the silk, etc. We went through each step, finally selecting “ma mon” silk, which is a Lao silk (a good choice as the Lao are famous for their silks) that looks like cotton, breaths better than “ma laan” silk, and is more traditionally worn in the workplace or in everyday situations. I had a good time learning how to choose my silks and seeing the variety available. Sometime this week I will take the silk to a tailor and have it made up into a skirt!
We went across the road to the morning market to check out the scarves, but sellers close early on Sundays and we missed out on our opportunity to buy scarves today (we’ll just have to come back another time!). The rest of the evening was all about relaxing: using the internet at Joma Café, going out to eat, and a leisurely bike ride back to our house. Lack of sleep from last night is now catching up to me and I am ready to rest. Before I go, however, I would like to conclude with: Happy Father’s Day, Dad! I love you! And on that good note, goodnight.
We headed to our favorite smoothie bar for some fruity goodness to start our day off right, and after slurping the smoothies down, we headed over to a Scandinavian Bakery we had been told by everyone (everyone we knew who had visited Vientiane and Lonely Planet) was a must see/eat. While the food was good, I’m not really sure what all the fuss was about. It was good, but not that much better than other cafes/bakeries in this city and certainly not worth all the adulation it has received. In any event, the food was good and it started the day off right. After our delightful breakfast, we met Saem at Monument Books (just around the corner) and then set off on our bikes for Patu Xay. During traditional hours (luckily on weekends too) tourists are permitted to climb the stairs leading to the top of Patu Xay where the sightseer can get a view of the entire city of Vientiane on a clear day.
Today was just such a clear day, clear and hot…no…HOT. Unfortunately, Vientiane is going through something of a drought, currently eight days with no rain. The lack of rain has caused the temperatures to soar to unbelievable highs and it is now so hot that as soon as you leave the comfort of air conditioning a layer of sweat coats your entire body. The city is muggy and oppressive, feeling as if a storm is just around the corner while no clouds are in the sky. As we cycled down the main road in Vientiane, the sun beat down on our heads, seeming to mock our efforts to tour the city, dropping our energy levels to nil and making any exposed skin burn. Saem and Zenia struggled in the heat, growing more tired and heat-hate-filled with every move we made. I can only surmise that my fever immunized me from some of the worst effects of the heat, for though I felt hot and sweaty and uncomfortable, it was not as unbearable to me as it was to them. Perhaps something good came of that wretched fever? Something to consider…perhaps Vientiane likes me after all.
We made it to Patu Xay and even climbed the stairs to the top where we were able to gaze out over the city. It looked very similar to any other rooftop view of a city: a bunch of buildings you could just make out and some roads. However, it was a pretty sight, only slightly marred by the lack of shade. We stayed for only a little while and then made our way back down the five staircases and across the street to our parked bikes.
The second stop on our list was Pha That Luang, a golden stupa located about five minutes from the center of town. The golden spire is a very important religious epicenter for Lao Buddhism and a gorgeous place to visit. Today, we biked to the monument, a distance equal to that of our house to Patu Xay. Unfortunately for us, this portion of our journey was slightly uphill. We rode again under the blazing sun, sweating so profusely it dripped down our faces. By the time we reached the monument, we were so hot it was unbelievable. While I’m sure That Luang would have been impressive under normal circumstances (a giant golden spire against a brilliant blue sky is quite a sight to see), in our heat filled delirium, we could not enjoy it. The most we could bring ourselves to do was walk under the eaves of the wall surrounding the spire where there was shade, admiring from a distance and praying we would survive.
We decided quickly that we had seen enough and left the spire on our bikes to head home. To give you a further example of just how hot it has been here…when we arrived home, I immediately went into our room, switched on the air conditioning, and laid down on my bed to await survival or death. As I am writing this blog, it is clear I survived, but I feel sure it was a near miss. I had fully cooled down and was no longer sweaty when Zenia called me out of our room (the epicenter of all that is wonderful and air conditioned) to help with the laundry. As soon as I stepped out of our room I was once again covered in a layer of sweat. Every inch of my skin glistened with moisture, impossible to dry off in the stunning humidity.
In self defense, Zenia and I stayed in for most of the afternoon, until Lamnuegn came by at 3 pm to take us shopping for silk to make me a traditional Lao skirt. Unfortunately, she came on her motorbike rather than in her car and Zenia and I were forced back onto our bikes to endure another ride downtown in the heat. If the outside was a sauna, it was nothing compared to the inside of the market. We went to the daily market, located across the street from the Morning Market in downtown Vientiane. Imagine a huge warehouse, many blocks long, filled with stalls of cloth, clothes, shoes, purses, etc. Everything you could imagine. Each stall is about a seven foot square, with merchandise (enough for a store) hanging from every available surface in the small space. To find the good silk, you must travel deep into the belly of the beast, heading under fluorescent lights into the deepest recesses of the market, where air is scarce and the heat nearly unbearable. Even for the locals it is almost too much and as we walked, we saw most stall owners lying down on the floors behind their front tables, unmoving, with a fan blowing air directly on their heads.
It took an hour of shopping in this sauna to find the proper silk. The process of buying silk is intense. You must know where you want the silk to be from, what kind of silk you want, what pattern on the silk, etc. We went through each step, finally selecting “ma mon” silk, which is a Lao silk (a good choice as the Lao are famous for their silks) that looks like cotton, breaths better than “ma laan” silk, and is more traditionally worn in the workplace or in everyday situations. I had a good time learning how to choose my silks and seeing the variety available. Sometime this week I will take the silk to a tailor and have it made up into a skirt!
We went across the road to the morning market to check out the scarves, but sellers close early on Sundays and we missed out on our opportunity to buy scarves today (we’ll just have to come back another time!). The rest of the evening was all about relaxing: using the internet at Joma Café, going out to eat, and a leisurely bike ride back to our house. Lack of sleep from last night is now catching up to me and I am ready to rest. Before I go, however, I would like to conclude with: Happy Father’s Day, Dad! I love you! And on that good note, goodnight.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
The Dream House
What an incredible day! We awoke early in Pakse and decided to get some local coffee and lemonade to start the day on the right foot. We were then picked up from our hotel and taken to the local shelter VFI runs, which supports girls who have been trafficked and works to re-assimilate them into their communities. Before we get to that, however, I will tell you a l little more about the human trafficking situation in Laos…
Laos is a very poor country…very poor. At this point, Laos is struggling to bring itself out of the classification of “Poorest 20 Countries in the World.” Unfortunately, there are several problems associated with a government regime that seeks to raise the economy of a country as a whole, when the government is not overly concerned with all of its citizens. The number one problem is that the gap between the rich and the poor grows larger as the economy struggles to grow. Thailand is a perfect example of this problem. Thailand is another poor SE Asian country, but one that has been growing by leaps and bounds in recent years. Unfortunately, this growth has largely been at the expense of the lower classes and as the economy grows, the divide between the rich and poor grows. Currently, in Thailand, there is no middle class. Laos is now following suit. However, as the poor, indigenous people are told by the government that they must become more economically solvent, the people turn to their neighbor (Thailand), see the new prosperity, and think it is available to who comes to Thailand and is willing to work.
The poor of Laos flock to Thailand, often illegally, in search of jobs and prosperity. These people rarely find anything in their new country. Most of the time the people are caught by the police and thrown back across the border (termed a “push back”) as illegal immigrants. In these cases, people are thrown into buses, the doors are locked, they are driven to the Thailand-Laos border near Pakse and forced to leave Thailand. On the Laos side of the border, police await the people and they are taken away to be questioned and made to pay a fee for reentering the country without the proper paperwork. Those who remain in Thailand often become something akin to an indentured servant or are forced to participate in the sex trade industry (most of the sex trade workers in Thailand are from Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, or Burma).
I could go on about this problem, but it is a depressing topic and I’m not sure how much you actually want to hear about it now. Suffice it to say, this is a huge problem in SE Asia and Laos in particular. Young girls who are “pushed back” (often after being forced to take part in the sex trade industry) have a difficult time returning home or being accepted into their home communities (obviously the girls often have a lot of physical and emotional issues). Some lucky cases will be taken in by VFI’s shelter outside of Pakse. Called The Dream Home by its residents, this Shelter houses girls who have been within the trafficking system and teaches them trades and skills that will help them return to their communities.
The Shelter has been in operation for two years now and has helped 47 girls return to their communities so far. About 15 of those girls had been trafficked at some point (the rest were “push backs” as illegal immigrants only). In most cases, the girls stay at the Shelter for around 6 months, going to school, learning trades (hairdressing, cooking, sewing, gardening, etc.), and then return home to their families if the Shelter determines they are not abusive or environments where the girls are likely to be forced to return to the old patter of life.
We spent the morning visiting with the girls (speaking through translators), helping with their activities (I made a silk flower and helped prepare lunch!) and getting a tour of the Shelter. It was a beautiful place and obviously doing a lot of good for these poor girls. The girls even prepared lunch for us, a veritable feast of rice, stir-fried vegetables, fried beef, pork soup, and pork buns (amazingly delicious!). We all sat on the floor, eating in a large group. The Lao way of eating is a lot of fun, although quite a messy experience. Food is placed on small plates and placed in the center of the table, usually at intervals so that three or four people can eat off each plate. With the amount of dishes that are usually made or ordered, this usually means there is not a square inch of table left uncovered by food. You are equipped with a bowl or plate and bowl, a spoon, and sometimes a fork. You then dig in. First, you pile your plate with food. Soup goes in the bowl, laap and the meats onto your plate, although you shouldn’t take too much of any one thing or you will be laughed at. A better practice is to go back for seconds or thirds later. Second, you pull some sticky rice out of a small basket that sits beside your plate and roll the bite sized bit of rice into a ball. Third, you use the sticky rice to dab at your laap or other chopped up food and throw the whole mess into your mouth. Fourth, keep eating. The whole process is messy and delicious. Meat is picked apart by hand and then stuffed into the mouth with another ball of sticky rice. If you like the food, the trick is to have a small ball of sticky rice with each bite. If you don’t like the food, increase the ball of sticky rice exponentially. The rice is delicious and extremely filling (much more so than steamed rice), and very addictive. Once you start eating, it is hard to stop. The food at the Shelter was incredible and once I learned there was no egg in the pork buns (just for me!) I made a total pig of myself and ate four! Even thinking of it now makes me feel a little pang of delight at the remembrance of that good food.
We left the Shelter at 1:30 pm, when the girls had to prepare for their afternoon lessons, and with many thank-yous and see-you-laters (you don’t say goodbye here, you say see you soon or later only), we took our leave. After hopping into our trucks, we headed out of Pakse to the Thailand-Laos border where the “push backs” occur, but we did not get to see one as they usually occur on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. We drove through some beautiful countryside on our trip to the border, getting closer to the mountains and driving through more farming country. We returned to Pakse quite late (around 6 pm) and headed to the Riverside, where we ate food, drank BeerLao, and relaxed during our last few hours in Pakse.
At 8 pm we left to catch our return bus to Vientiane, which turned out to be a bit different than our trip here. The bus we rode on our trip down to Pakse was called the “King of Bus” and I must admit it deserves the label. Now, if that was the “King of Bus,” what we rode tonight was the “King’s Second Cousin Three Times Removed’s Second Sister’s Sons Bus.” Not quite in the same class system if you get my drift. This bus was a different type of animal. While I suppose you could term it a “double-decker,” you could only do so if you use the term very loosely. I entered the bus from the front and was immediately confronted with a single aisle. Making my way down, I had to crouch to waist height (on me!) to see into the bottom bunk. Above each lower bunk (meant for two people once again), was an upper bunk, accessed by a small metal ladder, although most people simple climbed up like monkeys by standing on the bunks below. Above each top bunk, was another bunk at cross angles across the top of those bunks. It’s hard to describe in words, but if you picture a house of cards and imagine every top card is a bunk, you’ve got the general idea.
At first this didn’t seem so bad. I mean sure...it’s not quite as nice, but really, you’re just sleeping through it all, so what does it matter? Well, it matters. You see, as the people above you climb up to their bunks, they are standing on the rails holding you in, and while they are climbing, the bus is swaying, lurching, and bumping, so that you’re sure the person will soon slip and *wham!* there goes your head…crushed by a foot. If you have a girl with a small bladder above you, such as my upper bunk mate, this means you will live in abject terror of death by crushing foot five times during the night. The mattresses were like rocks covered with a sheet, the driver thought it was fun to honk the horn all night, and the people were smellier than the previous bus (I kept looking around for that Romancing the Stone chicken). Luckily, I had a secret weapon…sleeping pills! I popped 1/3 of a pill when I got on the bus and managed to get three hours of uninterrupted sleep! Woo-hoo! And now, we can check another cultural experience off my list. I have now taken an entire trip using only local transportation. In the future…let’s just fly.
A Few Interesting Notes About the South of Laos:
1. The rules of the road here are strictly guidelines. I’m not talking in the sense of “*wink wink*I think the rules of the road are guidelines. Hahaha. *wink wink*.” No. Here, they really are guidelines. For example, there are lines denoting lanes on the road, but if you feel the need to pass someone (a common need as a majority of the population is traveling at a slower speed by motorbike), you can simply pass, and if there is an oncoming car, oh well. Basically, driving is one big game of chicken, and if you’re drunk, you will probably win, although, most of the drivers are drunk, so you should give that some thought.
2. Don’t have enough seats in your vehicle? No problem! Extra passengers simply hop in the back while we drive at 120 km/hour down a highway. There’s no problem with standing up in the back of a fast-moving truck…all the better to feel the wind in your hair! We laugh in the face of death!
3. Everyone on a motorbike “must” wear a helmet (technically adults must wear helmets, but it’s really hit or miss as to the actual wearing), except those hard headed babies. Why would a one year old need protection on a motorbike? That’s just crazy! Instead, strap them on and be on your way! Babies are tough, after all.
4. Families of five or six will fit on one motorbike. There might even be room for a chicken riding in front.
5. When passing someone on the road, honk six, seven, or a hundred times to let them know you’re passing. If you’re in a sleeper bus, honk more. That way all your passengers know you’re passing someone too!
6. The leading cause of death in SE Asia is motorbike accidents. Basically, if you travel by motorbike, you will die. Good luck!
Laos is a very poor country…very poor. At this point, Laos is struggling to bring itself out of the classification of “Poorest 20 Countries in the World.” Unfortunately, there are several problems associated with a government regime that seeks to raise the economy of a country as a whole, when the government is not overly concerned with all of its citizens. The number one problem is that the gap between the rich and the poor grows larger as the economy struggles to grow. Thailand is a perfect example of this problem. Thailand is another poor SE Asian country, but one that has been growing by leaps and bounds in recent years. Unfortunately, this growth has largely been at the expense of the lower classes and as the economy grows, the divide between the rich and poor grows. Currently, in Thailand, there is no middle class. Laos is now following suit. However, as the poor, indigenous people are told by the government that they must become more economically solvent, the people turn to their neighbor (Thailand), see the new prosperity, and think it is available to who comes to Thailand and is willing to work.
The poor of Laos flock to Thailand, often illegally, in search of jobs and prosperity. These people rarely find anything in their new country. Most of the time the people are caught by the police and thrown back across the border (termed a “push back”) as illegal immigrants. In these cases, people are thrown into buses, the doors are locked, they are driven to the Thailand-Laos border near Pakse and forced to leave Thailand. On the Laos side of the border, police await the people and they are taken away to be questioned and made to pay a fee for reentering the country without the proper paperwork. Those who remain in Thailand often become something akin to an indentured servant or are forced to participate in the sex trade industry (most of the sex trade workers in Thailand are from Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, or Burma).
I could go on about this problem, but it is a depressing topic and I’m not sure how much you actually want to hear about it now. Suffice it to say, this is a huge problem in SE Asia and Laos in particular. Young girls who are “pushed back” (often after being forced to take part in the sex trade industry) have a difficult time returning home or being accepted into their home communities (obviously the girls often have a lot of physical and emotional issues). Some lucky cases will be taken in by VFI’s shelter outside of Pakse. Called The Dream Home by its residents, this Shelter houses girls who have been within the trafficking system and teaches them trades and skills that will help them return to their communities.
The Shelter has been in operation for two years now and has helped 47 girls return to their communities so far. About 15 of those girls had been trafficked at some point (the rest were “push backs” as illegal immigrants only). In most cases, the girls stay at the Shelter for around 6 months, going to school, learning trades (hairdressing, cooking, sewing, gardening, etc.), and then return home to their families if the Shelter determines they are not abusive or environments where the girls are likely to be forced to return to the old patter of life.
We spent the morning visiting with the girls (speaking through translators), helping with their activities (I made a silk flower and helped prepare lunch!) and getting a tour of the Shelter. It was a beautiful place and obviously doing a lot of good for these poor girls. The girls even prepared lunch for us, a veritable feast of rice, stir-fried vegetables, fried beef, pork soup, and pork buns (amazingly delicious!). We all sat on the floor, eating in a large group. The Lao way of eating is a lot of fun, although quite a messy experience. Food is placed on small plates and placed in the center of the table, usually at intervals so that three or four people can eat off each plate. With the amount of dishes that are usually made or ordered, this usually means there is not a square inch of table left uncovered by food. You are equipped with a bowl or plate and bowl, a spoon, and sometimes a fork. You then dig in. First, you pile your plate with food. Soup goes in the bowl, laap and the meats onto your plate, although you shouldn’t take too much of any one thing or you will be laughed at. A better practice is to go back for seconds or thirds later. Second, you pull some sticky rice out of a small basket that sits beside your plate and roll the bite sized bit of rice into a ball. Third, you use the sticky rice to dab at your laap or other chopped up food and throw the whole mess into your mouth. Fourth, keep eating. The whole process is messy and delicious. Meat is picked apart by hand and then stuffed into the mouth with another ball of sticky rice. If you like the food, the trick is to have a small ball of sticky rice with each bite. If you don’t like the food, increase the ball of sticky rice exponentially. The rice is delicious and extremely filling (much more so than steamed rice), and very addictive. Once you start eating, it is hard to stop. The food at the Shelter was incredible and once I learned there was no egg in the pork buns (just for me!) I made a total pig of myself and ate four! Even thinking of it now makes me feel a little pang of delight at the remembrance of that good food.
We left the Shelter at 1:30 pm, when the girls had to prepare for their afternoon lessons, and with many thank-yous and see-you-laters (you don’t say goodbye here, you say see you soon or later only), we took our leave. After hopping into our trucks, we headed out of Pakse to the Thailand-Laos border where the “push backs” occur, but we did not get to see one as they usually occur on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. We drove through some beautiful countryside on our trip to the border, getting closer to the mountains and driving through more farming country. We returned to Pakse quite late (around 6 pm) and headed to the Riverside, where we ate food, drank BeerLao, and relaxed during our last few hours in Pakse.
At 8 pm we left to catch our return bus to Vientiane, which turned out to be a bit different than our trip here. The bus we rode on our trip down to Pakse was called the “King of Bus” and I must admit it deserves the label. Now, if that was the “King of Bus,” what we rode tonight was the “King’s Second Cousin Three Times Removed’s Second Sister’s Sons Bus.” Not quite in the same class system if you get my drift. This bus was a different type of animal. While I suppose you could term it a “double-decker,” you could only do so if you use the term very loosely. I entered the bus from the front and was immediately confronted with a single aisle. Making my way down, I had to crouch to waist height (on me!) to see into the bottom bunk. Above each lower bunk (meant for two people once again), was an upper bunk, accessed by a small metal ladder, although most people simple climbed up like monkeys by standing on the bunks below. Above each top bunk, was another bunk at cross angles across the top of those bunks. It’s hard to describe in words, but if you picture a house of cards and imagine every top card is a bunk, you’ve got the general idea.
At first this didn’t seem so bad. I mean sure...it’s not quite as nice, but really, you’re just sleeping through it all, so what does it matter? Well, it matters. You see, as the people above you climb up to their bunks, they are standing on the rails holding you in, and while they are climbing, the bus is swaying, lurching, and bumping, so that you’re sure the person will soon slip and *wham!* there goes your head…crushed by a foot. If you have a girl with a small bladder above you, such as my upper bunk mate, this means you will live in abject terror of death by crushing foot five times during the night. The mattresses were like rocks covered with a sheet, the driver thought it was fun to honk the horn all night, and the people were smellier than the previous bus (I kept looking around for that Romancing the Stone chicken). Luckily, I had a secret weapon…sleeping pills! I popped 1/3 of a pill when I got on the bus and managed to get three hours of uninterrupted sleep! Woo-hoo! And now, we can check another cultural experience off my list. I have now taken an entire trip using only local transportation. In the future…let’s just fly.
A Few Interesting Notes About the South of Laos:
1. The rules of the road here are strictly guidelines. I’m not talking in the sense of “*wink wink*I think the rules of the road are guidelines. Hahaha. *wink wink*.” No. Here, they really are guidelines. For example, there are lines denoting lanes on the road, but if you feel the need to pass someone (a common need as a majority of the population is traveling at a slower speed by motorbike), you can simply pass, and if there is an oncoming car, oh well. Basically, driving is one big game of chicken, and if you’re drunk, you will probably win, although, most of the drivers are drunk, so you should give that some thought.
2. Don’t have enough seats in your vehicle? No problem! Extra passengers simply hop in the back while we drive at 120 km/hour down a highway. There’s no problem with standing up in the back of a fast-moving truck…all the better to feel the wind in your hair! We laugh in the face of death!
3. Everyone on a motorbike “must” wear a helmet (technically adults must wear helmets, but it’s really hit or miss as to the actual wearing), except those hard headed babies. Why would a one year old need protection on a motorbike? That’s just crazy! Instead, strap them on and be on your way! Babies are tough, after all.
4. Families of five or six will fit on one motorbike. There might even be room for a chicken riding in front.
5. When passing someone on the road, honk six, seven, or a hundred times to let them know you’re passing. If you’re in a sleeper bus, honk more. That way all your passengers know you’re passing someone too!
6. The leading cause of death in SE Asia is motorbike accidents. Basically, if you travel by motorbike, you will die. Good luck!
Friday, June 18, 2010
Salavan to Pakse (and everything in between)
We got ready quickly this morning as we were headed to the Green Earth Center at 9 am. The Green Earth Center is a program affiliated with/funded by VFI in the Southern Provinces; a working farm that sponsors local youth volunteers, teaching kids about sustainable farming techniques, human trafficking, and indigenous cultures/dances. It is an amazing place and quite beautiful, a place that would have made the whole trip worth it alone.
The Center is hidden off the main highway, down another long stretch of jarring, unpaved road. The entire property covers around 40 hectares and has several buildings including a meeting house, office, housing structure, caretakers hut, mushroom house, etc. While the Center was started by VFI and still receives funding from them, it now runs in conjunction with the Ministry of Education in Laos, which gives the Center more leeway in how they manage and run their land. The place was gorgeous and amazing to behold. The entire property lining the road is bordered by bamboo/barbed wire fences and each speck of land is utilized with an eye toward mixing beauty and functionality. Trees grow in abundance, hovering over the entire scene, but these are not merely palm trees or indigenous forest trees, but papaya, coffee, and durian trees. The small bushes and plants surrounding the buildings are all edible or fruit bearing of one kind or another (pineapple, rambutan, etc.).
When we first arrived at the Center, we were shown into the meeting hall, just in time to escape a short burst of rain that fell down as soon as we stepped inside. We were greeted by the Center’s staff and some of their youth volunteers and after a brief presentation on the functions and goals of the Center, some of the local kids danced for us. The whole morning was a lot of fun and completely enjoyable, but somewhat hard to endure as the land outside called us to explore. Soon we were set free from the meeting house and allowed to wander around the Center, which is when the real fun began.
Our first stop around the Center was to see some of the other buildings. As we wandered along the small trails, more of the landscaping was explained to us and different species of plant were pointed out, including an incredible weed that curls its leaves up when you touch it (imagine a sea anemone pulling in its tentacles and you’ve got something close). When we arrived at the office, we found fresh fruit from the garden awaiting us: pineapple, rambutan, and durian. As many of you may know, I adore pineapple. It is the king of fruit and will forever be so. That being said, the pineapple here is amazing and completely different from the pineapple we eat at home. Pineapple in the states, even the stuff grown in Hawaii is sweet, but with an undertone of tartness (yum!). The pineapple here, by contrast, is simply sweet, with no hint of tarty goodness. It is still delicious, however, and cannot be beat on a hot, humid day.
As I mentioned, we were also served durian. Durian is a special kind of fruit, a kind that needs to be extinct. I have heard that it smells good to some people, which leads me to believe that those people have serious brain-nose defects. This fruit smells like dead feet. It is HORRIBLE! Nothing could compare to the noxious odor of the durian fruit…and I ate some. Just a small spoonful, but I was told by my dear sister (thank you, Jana) that I HAD to try some while I was in SE Asia. Check and done. To be honest, however, it does not taste nearly as bad as it smells. It has a savory flavor, a strange taste of lightly sautéed garlic and onions. The flavor makes you want to cut the fruit up and eat it with some meat or use it as a primary ingredient instead of onions. Very strange.
After our fruit extravaganza, we were led back outside to tour a little more of the Center, which led us just a quarter mile down the road to a small pond. Next to the pond was a small building where mushrooms were cultivated by the Center. The main mushroom grown in these countries is a large, flat, white mushroom about the size of my palm that is cut up and put in most soups. The stems of the mushrooms are saved, stuffed by the thousands into plastic bottles, placed in a hot and humid building, and left for 28 days, over the course of which they will sprout out the top of the bottle. Incredible.
After touring the mushroom hut, we were allowed to walk down towards the pond and along the embankment surrounding two sides. As we walked across the berm bordering one side of the pond, we saw three women standing hip deep in the water using nets to scoop something out of the reeds, which was then deposited in small bags tied around their waists. Upon our inquiry about what they were doing, we were informed they were using the nets to collect tadpoles and frog eggs, which were evidently viewed as some sort of culinary treat (is it possible I’ve eaten them?). The women worked diligently, scooping the nets through the water, just skimming the bottom of the pond, to collect their bounty. We quickly passed this scene, which had now become somewhat freakish (there was a lot of excitement when the tadpoles were caught), and made our way to the end of the property.
The sight was incredible. As far as the eye could see were rice paddies. Beautiful fields of green fronds, gently blowing in the breeze, standing in small plots of water about 20 feet by 15 feet. The rice in the distance looked solid green, bright against the water beneath, but up close you could see that each rice plant was separated by about four-five inches from its neighbor. As I stood, gazing out over the fields of rice, I could just picture Jean Paget and the other women of A Town Like Alice, planting and tending the rice in the fields of Malaya. The scene was mesmerizing, making you want to take off your shoes and wade in amongst the rice, tending to the small shoots that stood so determined in the water. But all too soon we were called back to our trucks as it was time to leave.
I left the Center a little sad, but happy that I had seen so much, including my first rice paddies in SE Asia! We ate lunch family style at a local restaurant in Salavan with good, local food, including duck, laap, sticky rice, and soup. After our meal was finished, our group split up into two teams, with human trafficking interns heading to the Ministry of Education for a meeting and the Rights-LINK team heading to the Ministry of Land Management (NLMA – National Land Management Authority) for a meeting. Upon our arrival at our meeting, precisely on time, we were shown into the office of the local District Manager, who greeted us through our translator, Lah. After introductions were concluded, the Manager received a phone call on his cell phone. I’m not sure if this is a traditional way Laos business is conducted or if he just really didn’t care that we were supposed to be in a meeting, but he spent the next fifteen minutes chatting on his phone as we sat awkwardly around the table…waiting. Amazingly enough, this was the highlight of the meeting; when we finally got around to actually discussing land and land rights in Laos, it rapidly became apparent that we were not going to learn anything. We began with easy questions concerning non-Laos land concession holders (non-Laos corporations granted the use of land by the Laos government) and were told at each inquiry that everything was good and there were no problems. After only ten more minutes of questions we gave up entirely, much to the relief of Lah, who was having a hard time of it, asking our questions in a diplomatic manner so that his relationship with the NLMA was not harmed in any way (Rights-LINK must get permission from the NLMA to even speak with the local village people, so their relationship must be maintained if they are to continue to work in Salavan). We drove away in a hurry and began our journey back to Pakse.
About halfway back we pulled off the side of the highway and were told by Lah and our driver, Dewy, that we were stopping to see some waterfalls. This reinvigorated our energy level that had been considerably lowered by our meeting, but it was not quite the experience that wehoped for. We paid our requisite 5000 kip to enter (about 75 cents) as foreigners (locals get in for about 2000 kip) and entered a parking lot where signs in Lao directed us towards the “Local Ethnic Village,” the “Elephant Rides,” and the “Waterfall.” Deciding to walk in a circle so we could see it all, we headed toward the Ethnic Village first. The buildings that comprised this area were recreations of buildings that would have existed in this tribe’s traditional village. In front of each building, a local, ethnic individual sat: weaving, playing an instrument, or merely sitting in full ethnic dress for tourists to gawk at. There was something horribly depressing about watching these people stand and smile as tourists (Asians this time and not the stereotypical Americans) poked at them (sometimes literally), disrespected their beliefs, and messed with their tools and instruments. Coming on the heels of our meeting, where we saw first-hand the stonewalling tendencies of the government, it felt degrading and depressing to watch these poor people put on a show of their culture for the masses.
Heading away from the “Village,” we stumbled upon an elephant. This compounded our depression to new lows. The poor creature was tied by a chain around one foot to a tree and was enduring several children run around it in circles and darting under it as if the elephant was a statue rather than a living creature. Each appeal to the elephant’s face and every overture of friendship were met with the same response: a turned back and lowered head. While I would assume this elephant has a pretty good life generally (it was not standing in its own filth and food was available for it whenever it was hungry), the sight of the elephant chained to the tree somehow mirrored how the people looked at the “Village” and made the whole place a little sadder. We moved away from the elephant quickly, allowing the poor thing to enjoy a few moments of peace before it was bombarded by the next group. The sight of the waterfall did some good as it was incredible. We stood on a wooden structure, built along an outcropping of rock high above the plunge of the water. At this waterfall, the river wound lazily through the gorge and forest until it reached a sudden drop off, where water poured down at the centermost portion of the river, and along the edges in a gentler fashion. It was beautiful and quite soothing after the sights we had seen just moments before.
The heat drove us back to the truck, an oppressive, humid heat that drained our energy and left our entire bodies damp with sweat. Only the air conditioning of the truck saved our sanity and we were soon off, heading toward Pakse once again. We only managed to drive another ten minutes, however, before Dewy (our driver) expressed a deep desire for fruit. We darted off the road, parked alongside the highway, and bought pineapple and durian from one of the many roadside fruit stands dotting the road. The pineapple was delicious and incredibly refreshing after our hot afternoon. The pineapples sat in huge mountains on the stand and were either purchased whole and taken away or cut in front of you and eaten there. In our case, we ate four pineapples and one durian between the five of us, unable to stop until we were all so stuffed we were nearly unable to move, sitting on the back portion of the stand while we ate. Full to the gills, we got back in the truck, this time not stopping until we reached the guesthouse where we were staying for the night.
Our guesthouse, the Royal Pakse Hotel (I’m not sure why it was “royal”), was another nice place to stay, even offering a working TV in each room. The other team arrived about fifteen minutes after us, and after a quick stop at an internet café and then a refreshing shower, we were ready to head out for the evening. Pakse is an incredibly small city, confined in its size by both the rural nature of Southern Laos and by geography. Pakse is bordered on one side by the wide expanse of the Mekong River (here in the South it darts away from the Thailand-Laos border and enters the central portion of Laos) and on two other sides by another river, the De Kon. Our guesthouse was located in the center of Pakse, just a few blocks from the bus station, but in a city this size, almost everything was located that close to the bus station. Therefore, it was a simple matter of walking four blocks to the Hotel Pakse for dinner, where we relaxed on the rooftop restaurant the Hotel offers. It was beautiful to be so high in the city, affording us a view of the city lit up at night and lightening flashing in the distance. We ate decent food and spent a long time just enjoying the cooler temperatures of the night and the lightly chilled breeze that came off the Mekong.
After dinner was over, some of us headed out to a night club with Lah and some of the others we had met at the VFI office here in Pakse, which meant we had another night of drinking while standing awkwardly around a table. I was bored out of my mind and the only thing that made the first hour and a half bearable was the football game playing on a giant screen (no sound as we were listening to American rap songs mixed with Thai power ballads) at the front of the club (America v. Slovenia). After we had been there for almost two hours, I escaped outside to chat with my Mom and waste as much time as possible until everyone was ready to leave (I needed a ride home). As we were driving home (only about thirty minutes later), Lah developed a craving for noodles and we made a pit stop at a late-night noodle place (another restaurant/street-side stand), which put us back at the guesthouse at 1 am, way past my Laos bedtime.
While it was a long day, with a lot of driving and too much BeerLao (although I once again didn’t drink much), it was a lot of fun and a very successful second day in Southern Laos. This is a beautiful country and the South is well worth a visit, although I doubt I will be returning to the South anytime soon. The South of Laos is almost like a different country and while it is incredible to see and visit for a short period of time, I will admit that I am still enough of a city flower to want my comforts of Vientiane.
The Center is hidden off the main highway, down another long stretch of jarring, unpaved road. The entire property covers around 40 hectares and has several buildings including a meeting house, office, housing structure, caretakers hut, mushroom house, etc. While the Center was started by VFI and still receives funding from them, it now runs in conjunction with the Ministry of Education in Laos, which gives the Center more leeway in how they manage and run their land. The place was gorgeous and amazing to behold. The entire property lining the road is bordered by bamboo/barbed wire fences and each speck of land is utilized with an eye toward mixing beauty and functionality. Trees grow in abundance, hovering over the entire scene, but these are not merely palm trees or indigenous forest trees, but papaya, coffee, and durian trees. The small bushes and plants surrounding the buildings are all edible or fruit bearing of one kind or another (pineapple, rambutan, etc.).
When we first arrived at the Center, we were shown into the meeting hall, just in time to escape a short burst of rain that fell down as soon as we stepped inside. We were greeted by the Center’s staff and some of their youth volunteers and after a brief presentation on the functions and goals of the Center, some of the local kids danced for us. The whole morning was a lot of fun and completely enjoyable, but somewhat hard to endure as the land outside called us to explore. Soon we were set free from the meeting house and allowed to wander around the Center, which is when the real fun began.
Our first stop around the Center was to see some of the other buildings. As we wandered along the small trails, more of the landscaping was explained to us and different species of plant were pointed out, including an incredible weed that curls its leaves up when you touch it (imagine a sea anemone pulling in its tentacles and you’ve got something close). When we arrived at the office, we found fresh fruit from the garden awaiting us: pineapple, rambutan, and durian. As many of you may know, I adore pineapple. It is the king of fruit and will forever be so. That being said, the pineapple here is amazing and completely different from the pineapple we eat at home. Pineapple in the states, even the stuff grown in Hawaii is sweet, but with an undertone of tartness (yum!). The pineapple here, by contrast, is simply sweet, with no hint of tarty goodness. It is still delicious, however, and cannot be beat on a hot, humid day.
As I mentioned, we were also served durian. Durian is a special kind of fruit, a kind that needs to be extinct. I have heard that it smells good to some people, which leads me to believe that those people have serious brain-nose defects. This fruit smells like dead feet. It is HORRIBLE! Nothing could compare to the noxious odor of the durian fruit…and I ate some. Just a small spoonful, but I was told by my dear sister (thank you, Jana) that I HAD to try some while I was in SE Asia. Check and done. To be honest, however, it does not taste nearly as bad as it smells. It has a savory flavor, a strange taste of lightly sautéed garlic and onions. The flavor makes you want to cut the fruit up and eat it with some meat or use it as a primary ingredient instead of onions. Very strange.
After our fruit extravaganza, we were led back outside to tour a little more of the Center, which led us just a quarter mile down the road to a small pond. Next to the pond was a small building where mushrooms were cultivated by the Center. The main mushroom grown in these countries is a large, flat, white mushroom about the size of my palm that is cut up and put in most soups. The stems of the mushrooms are saved, stuffed by the thousands into plastic bottles, placed in a hot and humid building, and left for 28 days, over the course of which they will sprout out the top of the bottle. Incredible.
After touring the mushroom hut, we were allowed to walk down towards the pond and along the embankment surrounding two sides. As we walked across the berm bordering one side of the pond, we saw three women standing hip deep in the water using nets to scoop something out of the reeds, which was then deposited in small bags tied around their waists. Upon our inquiry about what they were doing, we were informed they were using the nets to collect tadpoles and frog eggs, which were evidently viewed as some sort of culinary treat (is it possible I’ve eaten them?). The women worked diligently, scooping the nets through the water, just skimming the bottom of the pond, to collect their bounty. We quickly passed this scene, which had now become somewhat freakish (there was a lot of excitement when the tadpoles were caught), and made our way to the end of the property.
The sight was incredible. As far as the eye could see were rice paddies. Beautiful fields of green fronds, gently blowing in the breeze, standing in small plots of water about 20 feet by 15 feet. The rice in the distance looked solid green, bright against the water beneath, but up close you could see that each rice plant was separated by about four-five inches from its neighbor. As I stood, gazing out over the fields of rice, I could just picture Jean Paget and the other women of A Town Like Alice, planting and tending the rice in the fields of Malaya. The scene was mesmerizing, making you want to take off your shoes and wade in amongst the rice, tending to the small shoots that stood so determined in the water. But all too soon we were called back to our trucks as it was time to leave.
I left the Center a little sad, but happy that I had seen so much, including my first rice paddies in SE Asia! We ate lunch family style at a local restaurant in Salavan with good, local food, including duck, laap, sticky rice, and soup. After our meal was finished, our group split up into two teams, with human trafficking interns heading to the Ministry of Education for a meeting and the Rights-LINK team heading to the Ministry of Land Management (NLMA – National Land Management Authority) for a meeting. Upon our arrival at our meeting, precisely on time, we were shown into the office of the local District Manager, who greeted us through our translator, Lah. After introductions were concluded, the Manager received a phone call on his cell phone. I’m not sure if this is a traditional way Laos business is conducted or if he just really didn’t care that we were supposed to be in a meeting, but he spent the next fifteen minutes chatting on his phone as we sat awkwardly around the table…waiting. Amazingly enough, this was the highlight of the meeting; when we finally got around to actually discussing land and land rights in Laos, it rapidly became apparent that we were not going to learn anything. We began with easy questions concerning non-Laos land concession holders (non-Laos corporations granted the use of land by the Laos government) and were told at each inquiry that everything was good and there were no problems. After only ten more minutes of questions we gave up entirely, much to the relief of Lah, who was having a hard time of it, asking our questions in a diplomatic manner so that his relationship with the NLMA was not harmed in any way (Rights-LINK must get permission from the NLMA to even speak with the local village people, so their relationship must be maintained if they are to continue to work in Salavan). We drove away in a hurry and began our journey back to Pakse.
About halfway back we pulled off the side of the highway and were told by Lah and our driver, Dewy, that we were stopping to see some waterfalls. This reinvigorated our energy level that had been considerably lowered by our meeting, but it was not quite the experience that wehoped for. We paid our requisite 5000 kip to enter (about 75 cents) as foreigners (locals get in for about 2000 kip) and entered a parking lot where signs in Lao directed us towards the “Local Ethnic Village,” the “Elephant Rides,” and the “Waterfall.” Deciding to walk in a circle so we could see it all, we headed toward the Ethnic Village first. The buildings that comprised this area were recreations of buildings that would have existed in this tribe’s traditional village. In front of each building, a local, ethnic individual sat: weaving, playing an instrument, or merely sitting in full ethnic dress for tourists to gawk at. There was something horribly depressing about watching these people stand and smile as tourists (Asians this time and not the stereotypical Americans) poked at them (sometimes literally), disrespected their beliefs, and messed with their tools and instruments. Coming on the heels of our meeting, where we saw first-hand the stonewalling tendencies of the government, it felt degrading and depressing to watch these poor people put on a show of their culture for the masses.
Heading away from the “Village,” we stumbled upon an elephant. This compounded our depression to new lows. The poor creature was tied by a chain around one foot to a tree and was enduring several children run around it in circles and darting under it as if the elephant was a statue rather than a living creature. Each appeal to the elephant’s face and every overture of friendship were met with the same response: a turned back and lowered head. While I would assume this elephant has a pretty good life generally (it was not standing in its own filth and food was available for it whenever it was hungry), the sight of the elephant chained to the tree somehow mirrored how the people looked at the “Village” and made the whole place a little sadder. We moved away from the elephant quickly, allowing the poor thing to enjoy a few moments of peace before it was bombarded by the next group. The sight of the waterfall did some good as it was incredible. We stood on a wooden structure, built along an outcropping of rock high above the plunge of the water. At this waterfall, the river wound lazily through the gorge and forest until it reached a sudden drop off, where water poured down at the centermost portion of the river, and along the edges in a gentler fashion. It was beautiful and quite soothing after the sights we had seen just moments before.
The heat drove us back to the truck, an oppressive, humid heat that drained our energy and left our entire bodies damp with sweat. Only the air conditioning of the truck saved our sanity and we were soon off, heading toward Pakse once again. We only managed to drive another ten minutes, however, before Dewy (our driver) expressed a deep desire for fruit. We darted off the road, parked alongside the highway, and bought pineapple and durian from one of the many roadside fruit stands dotting the road. The pineapple was delicious and incredibly refreshing after our hot afternoon. The pineapples sat in huge mountains on the stand and were either purchased whole and taken away or cut in front of you and eaten there. In our case, we ate four pineapples and one durian between the five of us, unable to stop until we were all so stuffed we were nearly unable to move, sitting on the back portion of the stand while we ate. Full to the gills, we got back in the truck, this time not stopping until we reached the guesthouse where we were staying for the night.
Our guesthouse, the Royal Pakse Hotel (I’m not sure why it was “royal”), was another nice place to stay, even offering a working TV in each room. The other team arrived about fifteen minutes after us, and after a quick stop at an internet café and then a refreshing shower, we were ready to head out for the evening. Pakse is an incredibly small city, confined in its size by both the rural nature of Southern Laos and by geography. Pakse is bordered on one side by the wide expanse of the Mekong River (here in the South it darts away from the Thailand-Laos border and enters the central portion of Laos) and on two other sides by another river, the De Kon. Our guesthouse was located in the center of Pakse, just a few blocks from the bus station, but in a city this size, almost everything was located that close to the bus station. Therefore, it was a simple matter of walking four blocks to the Hotel Pakse for dinner, where we relaxed on the rooftop restaurant the Hotel offers. It was beautiful to be so high in the city, affording us a view of the city lit up at night and lightening flashing in the distance. We ate decent food and spent a long time just enjoying the cooler temperatures of the night and the lightly chilled breeze that came off the Mekong.
After dinner was over, some of us headed out to a night club with Lah and some of the others we had met at the VFI office here in Pakse, which meant we had another night of drinking while standing awkwardly around a table. I was bored out of my mind and the only thing that made the first hour and a half bearable was the football game playing on a giant screen (no sound as we were listening to American rap songs mixed with Thai power ballads) at the front of the club (America v. Slovenia). After we had been there for almost two hours, I escaped outside to chat with my Mom and waste as much time as possible until everyone was ready to leave (I needed a ride home). As we were driving home (only about thirty minutes later), Lah developed a craving for noodles and we made a pit stop at a late-night noodle place (another restaurant/street-side stand), which put us back at the guesthouse at 1 am, way past my Laos bedtime.
While it was a long day, with a lot of driving and too much BeerLao (although I once again didn’t drink much), it was a lot of fun and a very successful second day in Southern Laos. This is a beautiful country and the South is well worth a visit, although I doubt I will be returning to the South anytime soon. The South of Laos is almost like a different country and while it is incredible to see and visit for a short period of time, I will admit that I am still enough of a city flower to want my comforts of Vientiane.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Salavan Province
We arrived in Pakse, the major city of Southern Laos, at 6:30 am, although I awoke earlier than that on the bus. We were picked up from the bus station by some VFI workers in company trucks and driven over the office. Two trucks were needed to pick us up from the station and when the second truck arrived, after a five minute wait, we loaded our bags into the back of one truck, which had a tarp over the back to protect the contents from rain. It took about six minutes to take the tarp off the back, load our bags, and retie the tarp across the load. Our drive to the office took less than four minutes. It seems the further you go into the heart of Laos, the less people are willing to walk. It would have literally taken us three minutes to walk to the office and yet we waited for five minutes for a second truck and over five to load our baggage. So strange. The office was opened for us, which is located in a building in the heart of Pakse, three stories tall. Each floor of the building sported a bathroom with a “shower” (a nozzle attached to the wall that will spray you and everything else in the bathroom – very typical shower in Laos) and we were given as much time as we wanted to shower and freshen up after our long bus ride.
Freshly cleaned and clothed, we set off in the trucks again for breakfast, eating at a coffee shop that sported a continental breakfast. This turned out to be fantastic as the French influence of baguettes stretched into Southern Laos and we were able to order fresh juice and a warmed/toasted baguette with butter and jam. It was a light and refreshing breakfast and soon we were on the road again, this time heading east toward Salavan Province. After a forty minute drive into the countryside, we arrived at our residence for the evening, a guesthouse (motel) in a small roadside community where we dropped our bags off. We then headed out one final time to the village in Salavan Province where Rights-LINK was holding a legal information session.
The landscape and vegetation of Southern Laos is very different from what I have seen of Northern Laos so far. As we drove out of the city toward the countryside, concrete gave way to natural vegetation and the two lane road was replaced by a one and a half lane road shared by all. It seems that everywhere you look here you can see some mountains in the far distance covered in forests. As you head down the road, small houses dot the sides, but different from the French influenced abodes of the North. Here, the houses are much more native, standing on stilts high above the ground, constructed of thin wooden planks or bamboo slats. The houses vary widely from well kept and neat houses to decrepit messes. Some families have obviously made the most of their small areas, growing gardens and flowers in front of their structures, and keeping the space below the house clear and neat. Families set up stands by the roadside in front of their homes and sell fruit collected from the forests behind the homes or cooked food. Behind the houses, the forests are somewhat managed, presumably by the families using the natural products of the forest for food (banana trees and other native fruits) and other resources, but soon this gives way into an impenetrable wall of forest, so thick and lush it puts the viewer in mind of a rainforest. Adding to this impression, the sky in the South remains shrouded in clouds, a beautiful array of near black, glowing white, and every shade of grey.
Everywhere you look the forest seems to be trying to reclaim the land. Plots of land cleared by families to be used for farming are quickly dotted with banana trees, palm trees, and other vegetation, making it nearly impossible to hold back the ever encroaching tide of green. There is something incredibly beautiful about this powerful forest and something almost menacing. The forest is a brilliant green, seeming to almost stare malevolently at the outside viewer, at once inviting you inside and daring you to try to enter the realm of the forest. The earth shines below the green of the trees and plants a fiery red. As you look out over the land from the car, the red of the land can be seen first, rising up in great tides from where the farmers have tilled it, the green of the forest laying vibrant behind, and in the distance, mountains rising above the scene, looking down on it all. Above the entire picture is the brilliant, cloudy sky, ready to dump its load of water at any moment, fat dime, quarter, and dollar sized drops that fall in a torrent all at once as if someone has turned on a faucet.
We drove on a paved road through this area for about twenty minutes, until we turned onto a red, unpaved road. This was the most uncomfortable experience of my life. We were squished like sardines into the back of a small pickup truck and this road was ROUGH. It was not the teeth rattling jarring of a bad road you normally find in the US, but a lurching, pounding, breath stealing jarring road that will never be smooth and never has been smooth. For thirty minutes I endured the pain of elbows, shoulders, and an unfortunately placed metal bar in the seat, stabbing at various parts of my body until the feeling was all I knew. The trip felt endless, but we did finally arrive at our destination, a small village of 1,700 people that grows coffee beans for its livelihood in the heart of Salavan Province. Upon our arrival, we were invited into the temporary temple/meeting house, a large wooden structure where Rights-LINK was holding a legal advice session that allowed villagers to come and speak to lawyers and paralegals about legal land issues they may have. We sat on mats on the floor and watched, asking questions through a translator of the chief of the village, and then speaking with the lawyers and representatives from the Laos Bar Association and local government.
It was interesting observing the interactions of the people and the lawyers, but this was not quite the experience I had expected as this was a village where Rights-LINK had done some previous work (training some of the locals as paralegals), it was a wealthier village than Rights-LINK typically works with, and the entire village spoke Laos. It was still incredibly fascinating to see and it was wonderful to be welcomed as a visitor. During our stay the skies opened up to pour buckets of rain, which hit the metal roof like gunshots, making any form of speech or communication impossible. As we sat in the meeting house with the elders and Village Chief, the locals were all smiles and it was explained that rain falling during a visit by the falang is a lucky sign for the village and that we must be very lucky, as it rained twice. An interesting notion to be sure and while it might make you feel good to hear it, keep in mind that it rains every day here without fail…they must have a LOT of luck. :) We stayed for a couple hours, until it was well past lunch time and our party expressed a desire for food. We left the village after many thanks and goodbyes, and traveled on that terrible road again (this time I was against the door, with the handle and other door bits stabbing into me) to a guesthouse that served some non-local food that our guide, Lah, knew about.
It took almost an hour to get to the guesthouse and the food was terrible. On a scale of 10, this food rated a 2. I simply didn’t eat my lunch, although I did order two lemon juices (still lime), and donated the “chicken salad” to Saem and Nate, who mixed it with Saem’s meal, creating “Chicken Salad Fried Rice with Hot Sauce,” which they claim was better than any of the items alone. After struggling through the meal, we walked just down the road (we were actually permitted to walk!) to a waterfall! The waterfall was beautiful, a rampaging flow of water coming out of the depths of the forest, looking mysterious and dangerous. Still tired from our long journey and now our long day, we did not go climbing on the rocks near the base, but stayed on the wooden outlook structure. We were permitted about twenty minutes to enjoy the beauty of the water and were then shepherded back into the trucks for our quick trip back to our guesthouses, where we were deposited for a few hours, left to our own devises. Zenia and I opted to use that time to rest as there is nothing to see in this area (the guesthouse is simply off the side of the road in what appears to be a small community without any real center, besides the road). I ended up falling asleep, only awakening upon the knocking of Lamnuegn and one of our morning drivers, Paht. We were invited outside where we assembled tables, chairs, and a TV and settled in to watch one of the World Cup football matches, Argentina v. Korea.
Before the game started we drove down the road and bought sticky rice and fried chicken (whole chickens stuck on a skewer, spread eagled, with all the bones and head, fried until the entire thing is crispy and almost no meat is left) from some of the roadside stands selling food, which we ate picnic style while drinking BeerLao (the drink of choice in this country), and watching the football match. It was a fun evening, with everyone getting into the match and REALLY getting into the drinking. In SE Asia there are two alcoholic beverages you can drink: 1) BeerLao – generally touted as the #1 beer in all of Asia, it is consumed in massive quantities, chilled and then served on the rocks in small juice glasses; 2) whiskey and soda – we’ve already discussed this one. Tonight we consumed about 15+ bottles of BeerLao, although I stopped quickly as I am not a beer fan. The match ended with a win for Argentina, much to Saem’s consternation, and with it the evening for me and Zenia as we were exhausted. As I write this post, however, the party outside continues to go strong with more BeerLao, football, and karaoke (Asians LOVE karaoke to an obsessive degree. Never give an Asian a karaoke mike as they will not stop and will not give the mike back.).
Tomorrow promises to be another long and amazing day. I can’t wait to see more of this country, although I hope it will be with a little more elbow room in the backseat this time.
Freshly cleaned and clothed, we set off in the trucks again for breakfast, eating at a coffee shop that sported a continental breakfast. This turned out to be fantastic as the French influence of baguettes stretched into Southern Laos and we were able to order fresh juice and a warmed/toasted baguette with butter and jam. It was a light and refreshing breakfast and soon we were on the road again, this time heading east toward Salavan Province. After a forty minute drive into the countryside, we arrived at our residence for the evening, a guesthouse (motel) in a small roadside community where we dropped our bags off. We then headed out one final time to the village in Salavan Province where Rights-LINK was holding a legal information session.
The landscape and vegetation of Southern Laos is very different from what I have seen of Northern Laos so far. As we drove out of the city toward the countryside, concrete gave way to natural vegetation and the two lane road was replaced by a one and a half lane road shared by all. It seems that everywhere you look here you can see some mountains in the far distance covered in forests. As you head down the road, small houses dot the sides, but different from the French influenced abodes of the North. Here, the houses are much more native, standing on stilts high above the ground, constructed of thin wooden planks or bamboo slats. The houses vary widely from well kept and neat houses to decrepit messes. Some families have obviously made the most of their small areas, growing gardens and flowers in front of their structures, and keeping the space below the house clear and neat. Families set up stands by the roadside in front of their homes and sell fruit collected from the forests behind the homes or cooked food. Behind the houses, the forests are somewhat managed, presumably by the families using the natural products of the forest for food (banana trees and other native fruits) and other resources, but soon this gives way into an impenetrable wall of forest, so thick and lush it puts the viewer in mind of a rainforest. Adding to this impression, the sky in the South remains shrouded in clouds, a beautiful array of near black, glowing white, and every shade of grey.
Everywhere you look the forest seems to be trying to reclaim the land. Plots of land cleared by families to be used for farming are quickly dotted with banana trees, palm trees, and other vegetation, making it nearly impossible to hold back the ever encroaching tide of green. There is something incredibly beautiful about this powerful forest and something almost menacing. The forest is a brilliant green, seeming to almost stare malevolently at the outside viewer, at once inviting you inside and daring you to try to enter the realm of the forest. The earth shines below the green of the trees and plants a fiery red. As you look out over the land from the car, the red of the land can be seen first, rising up in great tides from where the farmers have tilled it, the green of the forest laying vibrant behind, and in the distance, mountains rising above the scene, looking down on it all. Above the entire picture is the brilliant, cloudy sky, ready to dump its load of water at any moment, fat dime, quarter, and dollar sized drops that fall in a torrent all at once as if someone has turned on a faucet.
We drove on a paved road through this area for about twenty minutes, until we turned onto a red, unpaved road. This was the most uncomfortable experience of my life. We were squished like sardines into the back of a small pickup truck and this road was ROUGH. It was not the teeth rattling jarring of a bad road you normally find in the US, but a lurching, pounding, breath stealing jarring road that will never be smooth and never has been smooth. For thirty minutes I endured the pain of elbows, shoulders, and an unfortunately placed metal bar in the seat, stabbing at various parts of my body until the feeling was all I knew. The trip felt endless, but we did finally arrive at our destination, a small village of 1,700 people that grows coffee beans for its livelihood in the heart of Salavan Province. Upon our arrival, we were invited into the temporary temple/meeting house, a large wooden structure where Rights-LINK was holding a legal advice session that allowed villagers to come and speak to lawyers and paralegals about legal land issues they may have. We sat on mats on the floor and watched, asking questions through a translator of the chief of the village, and then speaking with the lawyers and representatives from the Laos Bar Association and local government.
It was interesting observing the interactions of the people and the lawyers, but this was not quite the experience I had expected as this was a village where Rights-LINK had done some previous work (training some of the locals as paralegals), it was a wealthier village than Rights-LINK typically works with, and the entire village spoke Laos. It was still incredibly fascinating to see and it was wonderful to be welcomed as a visitor. During our stay the skies opened up to pour buckets of rain, which hit the metal roof like gunshots, making any form of speech or communication impossible. As we sat in the meeting house with the elders and Village Chief, the locals were all smiles and it was explained that rain falling during a visit by the falang is a lucky sign for the village and that we must be very lucky, as it rained twice. An interesting notion to be sure and while it might make you feel good to hear it, keep in mind that it rains every day here without fail…they must have a LOT of luck. :) We stayed for a couple hours, until it was well past lunch time and our party expressed a desire for food. We left the village after many thanks and goodbyes, and traveled on that terrible road again (this time I was against the door, with the handle and other door bits stabbing into me) to a guesthouse that served some non-local food that our guide, Lah, knew about.
It took almost an hour to get to the guesthouse and the food was terrible. On a scale of 10, this food rated a 2. I simply didn’t eat my lunch, although I did order two lemon juices (still lime), and donated the “chicken salad” to Saem and Nate, who mixed it with Saem’s meal, creating “Chicken Salad Fried Rice with Hot Sauce,” which they claim was better than any of the items alone. After struggling through the meal, we walked just down the road (we were actually permitted to walk!) to a waterfall! The waterfall was beautiful, a rampaging flow of water coming out of the depths of the forest, looking mysterious and dangerous. Still tired from our long journey and now our long day, we did not go climbing on the rocks near the base, but stayed on the wooden outlook structure. We were permitted about twenty minutes to enjoy the beauty of the water and were then shepherded back into the trucks for our quick trip back to our guesthouses, where we were deposited for a few hours, left to our own devises. Zenia and I opted to use that time to rest as there is nothing to see in this area (the guesthouse is simply off the side of the road in what appears to be a small community without any real center, besides the road). I ended up falling asleep, only awakening upon the knocking of Lamnuegn and one of our morning drivers, Paht. We were invited outside where we assembled tables, chairs, and a TV and settled in to watch one of the World Cup football matches, Argentina v. Korea.
Before the game started we drove down the road and bought sticky rice and fried chicken (whole chickens stuck on a skewer, spread eagled, with all the bones and head, fried until the entire thing is crispy and almost no meat is left) from some of the roadside stands selling food, which we ate picnic style while drinking BeerLao (the drink of choice in this country), and watching the football match. It was a fun evening, with everyone getting into the match and REALLY getting into the drinking. In SE Asia there are two alcoholic beverages you can drink: 1) BeerLao – generally touted as the #1 beer in all of Asia, it is consumed in massive quantities, chilled and then served on the rocks in small juice glasses; 2) whiskey and soda – we’ve already discussed this one. Tonight we consumed about 15+ bottles of BeerLao, although I stopped quickly as I am not a beer fan. The match ended with a win for Argentina, much to Saem’s consternation, and with it the evening for me and Zenia as we were exhausted. As I write this post, however, the party outside continues to go strong with more BeerLao, football, and karaoke (Asians LOVE karaoke to an obsessive degree. Never give an Asian a karaoke mike as they will not stop and will not give the mike back.).
Tomorrow promises to be another long and amazing day. I can’t wait to see more of this country, although I hope it will be with a little more elbow room in the backseat this time.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Traveling to Southern Laos
We got off work early today so that we would have some time to prepare for our trip to Salavan Province in Southern Laos. Our preparation consisted of packing for our four day journey (Wednesday night to Sunday morning), getting some snacks for the trip, and eating dinner before Lamnuegn came to the house to pick us up for the bus station.
I packed quickly, accumulated my leftover granola bars and water bottles from my journey to Laos from Chiang Mai and then Zenia and I set off to Fruit Heaven on our bikes to enjoy one last fruit smoothie and sandwich before heading into the more rural and gastronomically restricted South. Once again the food lived up to its “Heavenly” claim and we felt good as we headed back to our house to await the start of our journey.
Lamnuegn arrived at our house at around 7:30 pm and we piled our belongings into the back of her truck, climbed in and set off for the bus station. Vientiane sports three bus stations located across the entire city (a vast expanse if you include the outlying non-downtown portions) and, in this case, we headed to one of the outlying bus stations, located about thirty minutes from our house. We arrived at the station in plenty of time, before even our bus was there, and spent some time sitting in the station, which felt hot enough to fry an egg on the floor. VFI was good enough not to send us poor interns to the South alone and Lamnuegn is our official chaperone for this expedition. Our bus was once again classified as a “VIP” night bus, but this time it was VIP in truth. These were not your typical buses…
The bus we rode from Chiang Mai was a very typical double decker bus: each person was assigned a seat that reclined a bit, had decent legroom, and no lumbar support. When I climbed onto the Laos bus I was expecting a similar situation, but I got something very different. You enter the bus from the side at the middle and are immediately confronted with a set of steep steps to the right and the entrance to the bottom level on the left. On both trips, my seat has been located on the upper level, and so I made my way slowly up the steps to the upper level. I turned left toward the front of the bus, slowly walking down the center aisle. Instead of the usual seats, however, I was confronted with small cubbyholes about five and a half feet in length and four feet wide. Each cubbyhole was outfitted with two pillows, two small blankets in plastic wrap, a small open area underneath, a similar space above, and a long wire basket attached to the wall at the foot of the entire thing. These were our “seats”; two per cubbyhole, perfectly equipped for sleeping through a night bus trip. It was incredible looking and I couldn’t stifle a small squeal of excitement at the sight. Zenia and I immediately clambered into our cubbyhole (A19 and A20), stashed our shoes and personal belongings into the wire basket. As the bus finished loading, we set ourselves up in style, outfitting our cubbyhole with our iPods, sweaters, water bottles, etc. A wonderfully helpful woman across the aisle told us our shoes should go in the space below our beds and packs above, which lessened the burden on our basket and allowed room for the small food packets of fried rice that were distributed as soon as we set out on our journey.
The space was quite comfortable and it was a truly unique way of traveling. The cubbyhole was perfectly fitted to my size, so that when I reclined my head touched one wall and my feet the other. Obviously this bus was designed for the shorter Asian population, the limits of which I just fit. For the taller guys, two tickets had to be purchased so that they could have a bunk all to themselves, which allowed them to curl up in a fetal position throughout the night. Travel in this mode was more restful than the upright seats we endured during our trip from Chiang Mai, but the bouncy motion of the bus and unfamiliar surroundings did not lend themselves to restful sleep. The night passed slowly once again and I again missed the countryside, seeing only darkness out my window.
I packed quickly, accumulated my leftover granola bars and water bottles from my journey to Laos from Chiang Mai and then Zenia and I set off to Fruit Heaven on our bikes to enjoy one last fruit smoothie and sandwich before heading into the more rural and gastronomically restricted South. Once again the food lived up to its “Heavenly” claim and we felt good as we headed back to our house to await the start of our journey.
Lamnuegn arrived at our house at around 7:30 pm and we piled our belongings into the back of her truck, climbed in and set off for the bus station. Vientiane sports three bus stations located across the entire city (a vast expanse if you include the outlying non-downtown portions) and, in this case, we headed to one of the outlying bus stations, located about thirty minutes from our house. We arrived at the station in plenty of time, before even our bus was there, and spent some time sitting in the station, which felt hot enough to fry an egg on the floor. VFI was good enough not to send us poor interns to the South alone and Lamnuegn is our official chaperone for this expedition. Our bus was once again classified as a “VIP” night bus, but this time it was VIP in truth. These were not your typical buses…
The bus we rode from Chiang Mai was a very typical double decker bus: each person was assigned a seat that reclined a bit, had decent legroom, and no lumbar support. When I climbed onto the Laos bus I was expecting a similar situation, but I got something very different. You enter the bus from the side at the middle and are immediately confronted with a set of steep steps to the right and the entrance to the bottom level on the left. On both trips, my seat has been located on the upper level, and so I made my way slowly up the steps to the upper level. I turned left toward the front of the bus, slowly walking down the center aisle. Instead of the usual seats, however, I was confronted with small cubbyholes about five and a half feet in length and four feet wide. Each cubbyhole was outfitted with two pillows, two small blankets in plastic wrap, a small open area underneath, a similar space above, and a long wire basket attached to the wall at the foot of the entire thing. These were our “seats”; two per cubbyhole, perfectly equipped for sleeping through a night bus trip. It was incredible looking and I couldn’t stifle a small squeal of excitement at the sight. Zenia and I immediately clambered into our cubbyhole (A19 and A20), stashed our shoes and personal belongings into the wire basket. As the bus finished loading, we set ourselves up in style, outfitting our cubbyhole with our iPods, sweaters, water bottles, etc. A wonderfully helpful woman across the aisle told us our shoes should go in the space below our beds and packs above, which lessened the burden on our basket and allowed room for the small food packets of fried rice that were distributed as soon as we set out on our journey.
The space was quite comfortable and it was a truly unique way of traveling. The cubbyhole was perfectly fitted to my size, so that when I reclined my head touched one wall and my feet the other. Obviously this bus was designed for the shorter Asian population, the limits of which I just fit. For the taller guys, two tickets had to be purchased so that they could have a bunk all to themselves, which allowed them to curl up in a fetal position throughout the night. Travel in this mode was more restful than the upright seats we endured during our trip from Chiang Mai, but the bouncy motion of the bus and unfamiliar surroundings did not lend themselves to restful sleep. The night passed slowly once again and I again missed the countryside, seeing only darkness out my window.
A Brief Sojourn
I hate to disappoint you, dear readers, but I am leaving for a few days and will be unable to update my beloved blog. I know, I know. It is a disappointment to us all, but the gods (aka my bosses) have spoken and we are off to Salavan Province tonight until Sunday morning. I will be taking my computer on this trip and will write a post for each night, which I will upload upon my return to Vientiane on Sunday morning, but until then…nothing (although I will look for an internet café in the largest town we are visiting). I will tell you more about my trip on Sunday. Until then, adieu!
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Je t’aime Vientiane!
It has happened. After all this time, I have finally fallen in love. It was unexpected, we’ve had a rocky history, and while I’ve tried to remain positive this day would come, I was afraid it never would…I’ve fallen in love with Vientiane. L’amour set in at approximately 6:17 pm Tuesday, June 15, 2010. I know people can’t usually pinpoint the time at which they fall in love so specifically, but it was easy in this case. Before we get to that though, we need to discuss what happened before 6:17 pm.
The morning routine complete by 8 am, I was working at my desk when I was told we had a meeting for the Rights-LINK interns at 9 am. While this notification would traditionally inspire panic and abject misery (meetings are typically not a good thing after all, bringing either a reprimand or more work), I was mildly excited this morning as I was ready to work on something besides reading introductory materials. As luck would have it, this meeting gave us a chance to speak with the supervisor for each project we will be working on over the summer and discuss particular jobs and tasks. I am now assigned to work with Na, who is in charge of promotion of the Rights-LINK Center to local NGOs, student bodies, general populace, etc. We’ll be working together two times a week and during the other times I will be working on synthesizing land rights case studies (first they need to be translated though), the guidebook, a specific legal question policy paper, and researching a few FAQs for the Rights-LINK website. Sound like a lot? It does to me too. We won’t be able to get through all the work they have for us in the next six weeks (particularly as they are having us leave tomorrow after work for the Salavan Province, so the rest of this week is gone), but we will try to put a substantial dent in it all, leaving them with a decent amount of work accomplished.
I worked the day away until lunch. Today I opted to eat lunch at the office, which has a wonderful program where a woman on the staff takes your order and money, buys your lunch from a group of restaurants nearby, and brings it back to the office. All the staff then eats their lunches together. We ended up feasting outside in the coffee center, which was a lot of fun. In addition, this way of procuring food is much cheaper than going out as the staff knows where to find the cheapest food close by. After lunch, it was back to the salt mines to finish our day of work. Although, it’s not truly a “salt mine” (which I have to imagine is a horrible place to work since the expression has negative connotations), the office in which I work is actually a very fun place to be. My bosses are busy getting paperwork and yearly forecasts/proposals ready for a major Swiss donor, which means people are in and out, loud conversations run rampant, and periodically they turn to me to question how to phrase something in English. Every once in a while we all take a break and talk together. This morning our conversations ranged from my discovery of a delicious Chiang Mai, Thailand candy in Laos (I ate it for the first time this morning and they thought it was hilarious that I had been in Chiang Mai for three weeks, but was just now eating them for the first time in Laos where they have technically been “imported” through the suitcase of one of their staff who just returned from Chiang Mai), the fact that Italian spaghetti recipes cooked by a Lao person are called “Laos Spaghetti” even though it is Italian food, and the US creates its own sports so that it can dominate in some sport over the world as it sucks at the true world sports (American football, basketball, or baseball anyone?). Our conversations only last for about five minutes, but they are filled with laughter, cultural revelations on both sides, and fun. It works to break up the day and gives me a breather from the heavy reading I have been doing.
There are a few more interesting things to note about Thai offices and the country/SE Asia in general.
1. There are no trash cans in this country and all of SE Asia! This is the land of take away food and endless wrappers (take away food you immediately eat is more true of Thailand than Laos), but for some reason there are no trash cans anywhere! If you happen to find a Western toilet you might find a trash can there, but otherwise you are simply out of luck. I’m not sure if it some great SE Asian joke on us falang (pronounced “faa-long,” by the way) since the locals never seem to be carrying around garbage, but I can’t find them anywhere. In our entire two story office I have managed to locate two non-bathroom garbage cans, one of which is located behind a desk and the other in a kitchenette area upstairs. I’m not sure where the trash cans are hiding, but I vow to find them before my time here is through.
2. Cleaning supplies are also scarce in this country. I’m not really sure why people hide the cleaning supplies from me. I have two main theories. 1) There is a great class divide in SE Asia and only the janitorial staff is supposed to clean and they all fear I will take over from them. 2) They want to see what we will do without cleaning supplies and think it is funny to hide them from me. Hmm…
3. No towels. This is a country/region without towels. I’m talking hand towels, paper towels, dish drying towels. All of them. Gone. Nowhere to be found. I have searched high and low and cannot produce a single towel for my efforts that could be used in any capacity. Are these being hidden too?!
4. The women at the office often wear traditional Lao skirts to work and most women in town wear traditional Lao skirts too. The Lao skirt is a thing of beauty. It is somehow tied at the waist (I’m not sure how yet) and falls to mid-calf. The entire thing is made out of a piece of silk with a design running horizontally at the bottom and either a plain skirt or small random flowers/prints on the body of the skirt. There really isn’t a way to adequately describe these incredible skirts. They are simply beautiful; always elegant and appropriate. I plan to buy one, although I’m sure it won’t have the same effect on me. :)
After work, we dropped our office things off at home, changed clothes, and set off for downtown Vientiane. While chatting earlier in the morning with my mom, I had gotten the idea in my head that I needed a fruit smoothie. Zenia instantly agreed that this was an absolute necessity and we headed off with Saem in search of a smoothie shop Zenia’s Lonely Planet guidebook recommended. A leisurely ride led us to Fruit Heaven and at 6:17 pm I ordered my smoothie. Before we get to l’amour, however, I must just say that the smoothies in this country are vastly superior to any others. Here, nothing interferes with the fruity goodness the way it does in the states. When you walk into a Jamba Juice in the US, you peruse a board of options that are the same all over the country and during all times of the year, never dependent on local or seasonal fruit. As the team behind the counter moves to assemble your drink, you can see various odds and ends dumped into the blender, some identifiable and others not. Ice enters first, then a strange powder, frozen fruit, unidentifiable liquids, a glob of something semi-frozen and with the push of a button it is melded together into a think gooey mass. This description is not meant to turn anyone away from Jamba Juice; I myself am a fan of the institution. But here, a smoothie is a completely different experience.
We walked up to Fruit Heaven, a small hole-in-the-wall establishment with a fruit stand in front (behind which stood a small counter space with two blenders) and a long list of smoothies, hand-written, in front. A traditional greeting of Sabai dee was given upon our approach and then we had to decide: a single fruit smoothie (dragon fruit, star fruit, mangostein, pineapple, mango, coconut, lemon – which is actually lime, but these people are convinced limes are lemons - etc.) or multi-fruit smoothie (mango-apple, pineapple-apple, carrot, mango, coconut, mangostein-lemon, mango-lemon, etc.)? Once our decision was made, the process began. The man behind the counter selected our fruit of choice from the stand, discarding all those deemed not fresh, until a suitable array was available. Pineapples were cut, mangos sliced, carrots shredded, etc. Once the fruit was prepared, it entered the blender with a bit of ice, some water, and a dash of sugar. The ingredients added, the button was pushed, and with a loud *whir* our smoothies were off. In only three minutes time a large glass with a slightly bent straw was presented for my enjoyment. The freshness is indescribable and the pleasure of the pureness of the fruit after a warm bike ride was nirvana. No place has been as truly named as Fruit Heaven.
We sat outside the shop, quietly sipping our fruit, lost in awe of the perfection of the moment for almost ten minutes. Content to let the fruit soothe us, I realized in that moment I was in love. It was a perfect moment. I finished my pineapple-apple smoothie with a touch of sadness that such gloriousness was gone, but pure happiness at the thought that I had just enjoyed it. I looked around the city with new eyes, able to appreciate everything like new. We began to meander down the roads nearby and discovered a pivotal fact about Vientiane: this city is deceptive. Look on any map of Vientiane and you will see what appears to be six main roads (once again, “main” by Vientiane standards). The rest of the roads and streets appear to be nothing more than alleyways and, in fact, that is exactly what they are. But just as Vientiane has not yet fully developed itself for tourists and has hidden many of its main “tourist sites” from prying eyes (example, hiding the Wats behind large walls and planted vegetation), the true glories of Vientiane are hidden on these small roads and alleys. To truly experience the goodness and richness of Vientiane, you must travel off the main paths. Don’t stick with the traditional roads, turn down a side-street and then another. There is no way to get lost in this town and there are a thousand little gems waiting to be discovered. As we walked around the streets surrounding Fruit Heaven we found a roadway of bakeries, bookstores, the most famous artisan silk factory in Vientiane, and dozens of amazing looking restaurants.
It was quite late at night by this point, so we headed into a bookstore, Monument Books, which had also been recommended by Lonely Planet. I found many treasures inside, including a Laos cuisine cookbook (something that is VERY hard to find), a Thai cookbook with a pad see ew recipe, and an amazing pamphlet on how to find and eat true Laos cuisine in Laos. It’s amazing, but here in Laos, local people are convinced the falang do not like and cannot eat true Laos food. When you request a recommendation for a local restaurant, they will immediately suggest a falang restaurant or will suggest a falang meal. It is quite odd. To get real Laos food (local fare) you must insist you want Laos food and then insist that it be truly Laos (add the spice please!). If you can actually get real Laos food, it is all worth the effort as their cuisine is divine! I have described it before and am continuing to experience delicious dishes all the time. My adoration has not abated (despite a brief sojourn during my illness when no food sounded good).
We left the bookstore, wandered around a bit more, and then headed back to Fruit Heaven where we ordered sandwiches off their menus. If I hadn’t fallen in love with the smoothies earlier, this would have captured my heart. An amazing freshly grilled chicken sandwich with watercress, cucumber, lettuce, tomato, dill, green onion, cilantro, etc., all piled high on a fresh baguette. It was incredible, a perfect meld of flavors and textures, a symphony for the mouth. I ate with gusto and was still unable to finish it all. Replete after this divine meal, we slowly biked our way home, going slowly enough to enjoy the city at night and for me to send my newly discovered love out to Vientiane.
The morning routine complete by 8 am, I was working at my desk when I was told we had a meeting for the Rights-LINK interns at 9 am. While this notification would traditionally inspire panic and abject misery (meetings are typically not a good thing after all, bringing either a reprimand or more work), I was mildly excited this morning as I was ready to work on something besides reading introductory materials. As luck would have it, this meeting gave us a chance to speak with the supervisor for each project we will be working on over the summer and discuss particular jobs and tasks. I am now assigned to work with Na, who is in charge of promotion of the Rights-LINK Center to local NGOs, student bodies, general populace, etc. We’ll be working together two times a week and during the other times I will be working on synthesizing land rights case studies (first they need to be translated though), the guidebook, a specific legal question policy paper, and researching a few FAQs for the Rights-LINK website. Sound like a lot? It does to me too. We won’t be able to get through all the work they have for us in the next six weeks (particularly as they are having us leave tomorrow after work for the Salavan Province, so the rest of this week is gone), but we will try to put a substantial dent in it all, leaving them with a decent amount of work accomplished.
I worked the day away until lunch. Today I opted to eat lunch at the office, which has a wonderful program where a woman on the staff takes your order and money, buys your lunch from a group of restaurants nearby, and brings it back to the office. All the staff then eats their lunches together. We ended up feasting outside in the coffee center, which was a lot of fun. In addition, this way of procuring food is much cheaper than going out as the staff knows where to find the cheapest food close by. After lunch, it was back to the salt mines to finish our day of work. Although, it’s not truly a “salt mine” (which I have to imagine is a horrible place to work since the expression has negative connotations), the office in which I work is actually a very fun place to be. My bosses are busy getting paperwork and yearly forecasts/proposals ready for a major Swiss donor, which means people are in and out, loud conversations run rampant, and periodically they turn to me to question how to phrase something in English. Every once in a while we all take a break and talk together. This morning our conversations ranged from my discovery of a delicious Chiang Mai, Thailand candy in Laos (I ate it for the first time this morning and they thought it was hilarious that I had been in Chiang Mai for three weeks, but was just now eating them for the first time in Laos where they have technically been “imported” through the suitcase of one of their staff who just returned from Chiang Mai), the fact that Italian spaghetti recipes cooked by a Lao person are called “Laos Spaghetti” even though it is Italian food, and the US creates its own sports so that it can dominate in some sport over the world as it sucks at the true world sports (American football, basketball, or baseball anyone?). Our conversations only last for about five minutes, but they are filled with laughter, cultural revelations on both sides, and fun. It works to break up the day and gives me a breather from the heavy reading I have been doing.
There are a few more interesting things to note about Thai offices and the country/SE Asia in general.
1. There are no trash cans in this country and all of SE Asia! This is the land of take away food and endless wrappers (take away food you immediately eat is more true of Thailand than Laos), but for some reason there are no trash cans anywhere! If you happen to find a Western toilet you might find a trash can there, but otherwise you are simply out of luck. I’m not sure if it some great SE Asian joke on us falang (pronounced “faa-long,” by the way) since the locals never seem to be carrying around garbage, but I can’t find them anywhere. In our entire two story office I have managed to locate two non-bathroom garbage cans, one of which is located behind a desk and the other in a kitchenette area upstairs. I’m not sure where the trash cans are hiding, but I vow to find them before my time here is through.
2. Cleaning supplies are also scarce in this country. I’m not really sure why people hide the cleaning supplies from me. I have two main theories. 1) There is a great class divide in SE Asia and only the janitorial staff is supposed to clean and they all fear I will take over from them. 2) They want to see what we will do without cleaning supplies and think it is funny to hide them from me. Hmm…
3. No towels. This is a country/region without towels. I’m talking hand towels, paper towels, dish drying towels. All of them. Gone. Nowhere to be found. I have searched high and low and cannot produce a single towel for my efforts that could be used in any capacity. Are these being hidden too?!
4. The women at the office often wear traditional Lao skirts to work and most women in town wear traditional Lao skirts too. The Lao skirt is a thing of beauty. It is somehow tied at the waist (I’m not sure how yet) and falls to mid-calf. The entire thing is made out of a piece of silk with a design running horizontally at the bottom and either a plain skirt or small random flowers/prints on the body of the skirt. There really isn’t a way to adequately describe these incredible skirts. They are simply beautiful; always elegant and appropriate. I plan to buy one, although I’m sure it won’t have the same effect on me. :)
After work, we dropped our office things off at home, changed clothes, and set off for downtown Vientiane. While chatting earlier in the morning with my mom, I had gotten the idea in my head that I needed a fruit smoothie. Zenia instantly agreed that this was an absolute necessity and we headed off with Saem in search of a smoothie shop Zenia’s Lonely Planet guidebook recommended. A leisurely ride led us to Fruit Heaven and at 6:17 pm I ordered my smoothie. Before we get to l’amour, however, I must just say that the smoothies in this country are vastly superior to any others. Here, nothing interferes with the fruity goodness the way it does in the states. When you walk into a Jamba Juice in the US, you peruse a board of options that are the same all over the country and during all times of the year, never dependent on local or seasonal fruit. As the team behind the counter moves to assemble your drink, you can see various odds and ends dumped into the blender, some identifiable and others not. Ice enters first, then a strange powder, frozen fruit, unidentifiable liquids, a glob of something semi-frozen and with the push of a button it is melded together into a think gooey mass. This description is not meant to turn anyone away from Jamba Juice; I myself am a fan of the institution. But here, a smoothie is a completely different experience.
We walked up to Fruit Heaven, a small hole-in-the-wall establishment with a fruit stand in front (behind which stood a small counter space with two blenders) and a long list of smoothies, hand-written, in front. A traditional greeting of Sabai dee was given upon our approach and then we had to decide: a single fruit smoothie (dragon fruit, star fruit, mangostein, pineapple, mango, coconut, lemon – which is actually lime, but these people are convinced limes are lemons - etc.) or multi-fruit smoothie (mango-apple, pineapple-apple, carrot, mango, coconut, mangostein-lemon, mango-lemon, etc.)? Once our decision was made, the process began. The man behind the counter selected our fruit of choice from the stand, discarding all those deemed not fresh, until a suitable array was available. Pineapples were cut, mangos sliced, carrots shredded, etc. Once the fruit was prepared, it entered the blender with a bit of ice, some water, and a dash of sugar. The ingredients added, the button was pushed, and with a loud *whir* our smoothies were off. In only three minutes time a large glass with a slightly bent straw was presented for my enjoyment. The freshness is indescribable and the pleasure of the pureness of the fruit after a warm bike ride was nirvana. No place has been as truly named as Fruit Heaven.
We sat outside the shop, quietly sipping our fruit, lost in awe of the perfection of the moment for almost ten minutes. Content to let the fruit soothe us, I realized in that moment I was in love. It was a perfect moment. I finished my pineapple-apple smoothie with a touch of sadness that such gloriousness was gone, but pure happiness at the thought that I had just enjoyed it. I looked around the city with new eyes, able to appreciate everything like new. We began to meander down the roads nearby and discovered a pivotal fact about Vientiane: this city is deceptive. Look on any map of Vientiane and you will see what appears to be six main roads (once again, “main” by Vientiane standards). The rest of the roads and streets appear to be nothing more than alleyways and, in fact, that is exactly what they are. But just as Vientiane has not yet fully developed itself for tourists and has hidden many of its main “tourist sites” from prying eyes (example, hiding the Wats behind large walls and planted vegetation), the true glories of Vientiane are hidden on these small roads and alleys. To truly experience the goodness and richness of Vientiane, you must travel off the main paths. Don’t stick with the traditional roads, turn down a side-street and then another. There is no way to get lost in this town and there are a thousand little gems waiting to be discovered. As we walked around the streets surrounding Fruit Heaven we found a roadway of bakeries, bookstores, the most famous artisan silk factory in Vientiane, and dozens of amazing looking restaurants.
It was quite late at night by this point, so we headed into a bookstore, Monument Books, which had also been recommended by Lonely Planet. I found many treasures inside, including a Laos cuisine cookbook (something that is VERY hard to find), a Thai cookbook with a pad see ew recipe, and an amazing pamphlet on how to find and eat true Laos cuisine in Laos. It’s amazing, but here in Laos, local people are convinced the falang do not like and cannot eat true Laos food. When you request a recommendation for a local restaurant, they will immediately suggest a falang restaurant or will suggest a falang meal. It is quite odd. To get real Laos food (local fare) you must insist you want Laos food and then insist that it be truly Laos (add the spice please!). If you can actually get real Laos food, it is all worth the effort as their cuisine is divine! I have described it before and am continuing to experience delicious dishes all the time. My adoration has not abated (despite a brief sojourn during my illness when no food sounded good).
We left the bookstore, wandered around a bit more, and then headed back to Fruit Heaven where we ordered sandwiches off their menus. If I hadn’t fallen in love with the smoothies earlier, this would have captured my heart. An amazing freshly grilled chicken sandwich with watercress, cucumber, lettuce, tomato, dill, green onion, cilantro, etc., all piled high on a fresh baguette. It was incredible, a perfect meld of flavors and textures, a symphony for the mouth. I ate with gusto and was still unable to finish it all. Replete after this divine meal, we slowly biked our way home, going slowly enough to enjoy the city at night and for me to send my newly discovered love out to Vientiane.
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