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.