My Final Week in Laos

I have begun writing this entry and the ones that will follow in my mind a thousand times (not surprising since I finished my trip and left SE Asia over two years ago now), but something has always stopped me. Initially, I was simply too tired. Travelling away from home for three straight months can be rather draining regardless of how wonderful and exciting your trip. I had been living out of a backpack for three months, eating out for every meal, and constantly trying to adapt to new and very different cultures. I was, frankly, exhausted by the end of my trip. Additionally, returning home was more than slightly depressing. Going back to the same old routine of school – without pause from my travel – and trying to reintegrate into American culture brought on a serious case of the blues, preventing me from even considering finishing my blog for some time. Eventually, however, I realized that I needed to provide a conclusion to my trip and give my time in SE Asia its final pages. And so, here we are – the final stories of this bookworm’s adventures in SE Asia.

My last week in Laos was understandably nostalgic and more than a little sad. I had been living in this remarkable country for two full months now, had made friends in the local community, and learned the streets of Vientiane almost by heart. Zenia and I were putting the finishing touches on all our projects at work during the day and we spent each evening making the rounds of the city, saying goodbye to our favorite places and our new friends.

So Long, Noy’s Fruit Heaven

One of our first and most important goodbyes was made to our friends at Noy’s Fruit Heaven. You will all recall that Noy’s became one of our favorite spots in all of Vientiane, home to the most delicious pineapple-apple smoothies in the entire world. In fact, Zenia and I stopped there every single day after work to enjoy a fresh and refreshing drink. Over the course of our two months of daily visits we had come to know the two girls who ran the stand very well. Neither girl spoke any English and my Lao was extremely limited (basically: hello, how are you, I’m well, counting to ten, and “no egg” in that language, but that was the extent), so our friendship was built on the unique form of communication that crops up when people don’t speak the same language, but really want to communicate.

Each evening Zenia and I would ride our bikes up to the stand and begin our ritual. We would each look briefly at the stand to see which fruits were available that day and then would point to the fruit that caught our eye. Upon saying the names in English, the two girls would look at the fruit to which we were pointing and would then say the name back to us in Lao. After two months we had learned most of the names and could order our drinks in Lao, my favorite being a combo of mac-nat and mac-apun (“mac” is the word for fruit, while “nat” or “apun” describes the type of fruit), or pineapple and apple. Zenia and I would then sit at one of the tables outside and wait for our drinks. Once the girls finished, they would bring over the smoothies and sit at the table next to us and our conversation for the evening would begin. First, the girls would say something in Lao, pointing emphatically to us, our bikes, or random objects and making hand gestures in order to explain their comments or questions. Next, Zenia and I would attempt to discern what they were talking about and would respond in English, using similar gestures and pointing motions. This would continue until it became clear that we were talking about the same thing or not, usually with a 50/50 rate of correct guessing. After our conversation was concluded, Zenia and I would take our leave with much smiling and waving on all sides and assurances, in both languages, that we would return the next day.

And so, over time, we developed a friendship with these two young girls. (Names were never successfully exchanged as Lauren was too hard for most Lao people to say – the l’s and the r’s were problematic, so problematic in fact that one man I worked with at VFI called me Flower – and Zenia was equally confusing. Thus, as we couldn’t really understand what their names were either, Zenia and I referred to them as “the Noy’s girls” and I assume we were “the bike girls”.)  Zenia and I managed to explain that we were visiting from America and Canada for the summer and working in the city and they managed to tell us that they were from southern Laos, but had moved to Vientiane and were now working and living in the city. We all looked forward to our visits each evening and it was with heavy hearts that Zenia and I contemplated saying goodbye. We both realized that something more was needed than our customary communication process to properly say goodbye to these girls and so we wrote out a note in English saying how much we appreciated their friendship, how we were returning home in just one week, and how much we would miss them both. I then asked Chinda to translate the note into Lao for me and that evening we took it to our favorite place in all of Laos.

We arrived at the stand at our customary time, but were surprised to see only one of our friends there. We produced the note, however, to the one remaining and, with the help of some Lao men sitting at one of the tables, the note was read aloud and we finally held a more usual conversation with our Noy’s friend. One of the Lao men spoke some English and was able to translate. It turns out the other girl was called away home to southern Laos, but we were assured she would be read our note as well. We all exchanged hugs, well wishes for the future, and assured each other we would always remember our time and friendship. And thus, we said goodbye to our friends at Noy’s Fruit Heaven.

Farwell, VFI.

Our last week in Laos was also our last week at VFI. Naturally we had become good friends with all of the people there, making friends with nearly all of the staff and the locals who came by each day for English lessons in the afternoon. In the middle of our last week at VFI we were told that the we would be ending early on Wednesday for a lunch and party in the seating  and coffee area in front of the VFI office. Mid-morning a group of the women of the office and I went out to buy some traditional Laos food for our party. We went to some local stands just a few blocks away from the office and bought bags and bags of various meats, laap, kebabs, chicken-foot soup (ew!), and sticky rice. We set up a buffet table of food, the men brought out two cases of Singha Thai beer and everyone was invited outside to enjoy the festivities.

Before we began gorging ourselves on the bounty of Laos food spread before us, my supervisor, Na, gave a brief speech about the important work we had all accomplished at VFI during our summer and what it meant to them all to have us there. It was extremely touching to hear her speak about us in such glowing terms and how much they enjoyed our time at VFI. However, upon her conclusion, she clearly expected one of our group to give a similar speech about our feelings on our time in Laos and at VFI. The six of us looked at each other and waited for someone to step up to the plate and give a speech that we clearly had not prepared for. As I looked around, I could see the hesitancy on each face and as I had become the closest with our Lao friends of the entire group, I took it upon myself to say a few words. My speech went a little something like this:

Thank you all for this wonderful party. I have had the best time of my life here in Laos. Thank you for welcoming us all to VFI, into your country and into your lives. We have all made friendships here that will last us our lifetime and we will never forget you or the time we have spent in Laos. We have learned so much from all of you and you have made our lives better by being in them. I can’t speak for everyone, but I know I speak for both Zenia and myself when I say that we wouldn’t have wanted to be placed anywhere but Laos. Zenia and I have been doing a lot of travelling around SE Asia in the past three months and have visited Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam and I can tell you that Laos is by far our favorite. Not only in terms of food and sights to see, but also in terms of people. The Laos people are the friendliest and nicest people in all of SE Asia and it has been a privilege getting to know you all and becoming friends with you all. So thank you. We will miss you all terribly.

It was a speech given from the heart and I meant every word. I was hugged by all my new friends and then we began feasting and it was clear how well my new Laos friends had gotten to know me as they each drank Singha Thai beer, but gave me my very own large bottle of Orange Mirinda (orange soda) to drink instead. (Of course, they were all laughing at my distaste for alcoholic beverages during that time, but I chose to take that as a little friendly ribbing.)

Alveterzane, Vientiane.

Each evening of our last week in Vientiane was spent riding our bikes around the city and eating at our favorite restaurants. We also made time to visit some of the sites we had yet to see, stopping at a local temple and receiving a fortune (I still have it, but have no idea what it says), and simply riding around streets we had yet to see.

On one of these outings Zenia and I came across a strange rock creation we had never seen before. A simple spire built from old stone, it stood in the center of the street and had been simply built around, creating a roundabout on the road. Grass was growing up the sides and when we consulted our maps of Vientiane, we realized it was not even labeled. The structure seemed noteworthy, however, and as we found it terribly amusing that we had managed to miss this fairly massive structure during our two months of living in and riding around the city, we stopped our bikes to take some pictures. We were standing a good deal away from the structure and alternating poses in front of it when a man with a very large rifle came out of an entryway to our house and began to yell at us in Lao and motion us to leave with his gun. Zenia and I froze on the spot, unsure what we had done wrong, but as he continued toward us with the very daunting weapon, we decided that retreating was our best option. We put our cameras away, got on our bikes, and continued toward the structure and away from the guard. As we rode past the man, we saw a sign on the wall surrounding the house in front of which the guard was standing and realized it was an ambassador’s residence. Evidently, two foreigners taking photos in front of an ambassador’s home was a little suspicious and the guard had simply been ensuring we were not taking photos of the house, but it was a fairly terrifying event nonetheless.

The rest of our goodbye to Vientiane and Laos was less eventful. Our time in Laos was wonderful, but after returning our bikes and saying our final goodbyes, we were ready to leave for the last leg of our SE Asia journey, a quick trip to Phuket, an island in southern Thailand, and then a final week of de-orientation in Thailand with BABSEA.

Goodbye, Laos.

Having said goodbye to all of our new friends and favorite haunts in Vientiane, we were ready to actually take our leave. But that is the beginning of our Phuket story…

Vang Vieng Part 2 – Caving & Tubing

Our second cave of the day was called Cave Hoi and was quite different from our first cave explorations. This cave was formed by water running through the mountain, from the very pinnacle to the base. The water formed a huge tunnel through the base of mountain where 50 years ago (before deforestation in the region changed the water route) water flowed in a river. Now the cave system is almost completely without water except where it is bisected by a small stream running almost perpendicular to the old river path. We were unable to explore the entire thing as it is 2 km long, but what we did see was amazing. This cave is another limestone feature, but in this case, the river that used to run through it left something behind. Embedded within the limestone, projecting out into the main portion of the cave are huge clumps of small pebbles lodged within hardened earth and rock, reminiscent of a dried riverbed. In addition, the ceiling of the cave is composed of similar material, but with larger rounded river stones. We meandered our way through the cave, slogging through the crisscrossing stream at one point until we came to a bend in the cave where the stone floor changed to a stone strewn mess that we had no desire to navigate.

It was around noon when we emerged from this cave, so our guide led us about 1 km back down the path we had already trekked until we reached a small river where a bamboo structure was built extending over the rushing water. Lunch was provided with our tour, fried rice, kebabs, baguette, and fresh pineapple. We tried to take our time eating, but were actually famished from our trekking and caving adventures and fell on our lunch like ravenous wolves. As soon as we were done eating our guide came over and informed us that it was time to “swim to the water cave.” My eyes darted to the river that was rushing by at a very fast pace. I was sure I had misheard him. We looked at our guide again and asked, “Uh, swim to the cave? Not tube to the cave?” “No. Swim.” Okay…That seemed a bit extreme, so I was sure it was simply a language problem. Soon, however, he returned with a headlamp attached to a large battery that is worn around the neck, which he informed us was waterproof. It became obvious. We were going to swim through the river to the cave, which would be filled with water. Talk about an adventure!

Zenia decided swimming through a cave was just too much, so she stayed behind on dry land, while Kevin and I got loaded up with headlamps and proceeded to enter the rampaging river. To assist with our battle against the river currents we had a rope that we used to pull ourselves across the worst portion of the river. Our guide was quite emphatic about holding onto the rope with two hands or death would surely follow as we were swept downstream. He constantly shouted, “Two hands! Safety first!” As we moved away from the shore into the cold water I understood his instructions and grabbed onto the rope with no thoughts of letting go even if aliens came down in a spaceship over my head. My feet were immediately swept behind my body so that I lay horizontally along the top of the water, dragging myself sideways to the opposite side. The force of the water was incredible. It felt as if a thousand hands were dragging against every inch of my skin and clothing, trying to pull me away from the relative safety of the rope. We expected to reach the other side, but the rope did not reach the other shore, instead coming to an end about 10 feet away where it ducked into a crevice in the rock, leading to the interior of the cave.

The cave itself was filled with water (indeed, it’s called the Water Cave) and due to the high water level, which pushed us up toward the narrow top, only about as wide as twice the distance of my shoulders. We swam sideways through the cave, carefully holding on to the rock walls with one hand, while looking out for spiders and other creatures with our eyes in the handholds. The cave was very similar to the others we had seen, but made more interesting, perhaps, by the fact that we were swimming to see it. We only swam inside for about 5 minutes until we were forced to turn around and return to shore due to an increase in currents in the cave, which made swimming inside too treacherous for my state of mind. It was a difficult process as the cave was so narrow and you could only kick your feet in a small area directly under your body or else you would be kicking the rock walls. Standing back on the shore felt exhilarating, as if we had truly conquered something by swimming in that cave and it only occurred to me at that moment how truly stupid it was to swim into a flooded cave. Now that I look back on the experience I’m glad I did it, but probably won’t be doing it again for fear of death. :)

After we all emerged unscathed from river, we set off on a return journey to the Nam Song River where we would begin our tubing. As we walked down the path Zenia and I took stock of our appearance and were amazed to see that even though I had just been thoroughly drenched in the river I was still just as muddy and Zenia was only slightly more so. Evidently the water here is less powerful than the mud. We walked through muddy fields until we reached the river where we viewed one more cave (more of a cavernous room cut out of the side of the mountain) and then loaded into a wooden boat for a quick trip across the river. The river was so powerful at this point that the only way to get a boat across was to aim it upstream, run the motor as hard as possible, and drift to the other bank where you will arrive in a relatively straight line across the river from where you started. It’s quite an amazing current and a bit disconcerting when we considered the fact that we were expected to sit on a small tube and float downstream for 4 km or so.

We managed to make it safely to the opposite side, however, and got a tuk-tuk ride downstream to the area where the tubing starts. We were outfitted with lifejackets, handed a tube, and told to get moving. The process of entering your tube on the water is an interesting one and worth noting. It’s a very awkward process getting into an inner tube at first. You must start by finding a fairly calm area of the river where you tube will not be pulled away by the current immediately. Then, you drop the tube into the water, turn around so your back faces it, and allow yourself to fall backwards, hopefully aiming with enough precision that your butt falls into the center, legs across the edge of the tube and back propped against the other side. While this does not sound like a difficult process, it can be quite tricky and I can now attest from personal experience that there is simply no graceful way to do it. Once you are in the tube, your next job is to get yourself out into the current so you can begin your trip downstream. This involves paddling yourself backwards, arms restrained to a large extent by your lifejacket and the edges of the tube so that you look like a beached whale. As soon as the river catches your tube it is simply a matter of not running into the shore and enjoying the scenery. Luckily our guide was in a kayak with us and able to take care of the first requirement, which meant that we were free to enjoy our surroundings, which were incredible – mountains rising on either side of the river to soar majestically overhead.

We stopped at one bar along the side of the river, a process that involved catching a rope thrown out to us from the shoreline by locals and then waiting to be hauled in against the current. Zenia and I enjoyed our time relaxing and people watching before we set out on the river once again, this time finishing our trip down the river at Vang Vieng where we returned our tubes, said goodbye to our guide, and set off for our hotel for a much needed shower. At this point I had accumulated enough mud to appear the color of milk chocolate and was in desperate need of shower. Nothing has ever felt quite as good as that shower after our long day as rivers of mud washed off my skin and clothing. We spent the remainder of the evening exploring the town of Vang Vieng more and watching Friends while eating dinner with our reunited party (Vanessa, Ellie, Chris, and Lorena). It was an early night that evening as we were all quite tired from our long days.

This final trip was undoubtedly a success and I believe it was the best way to spend our final weekend in Laos.

Vang Vieng Part 1 – Trekking & Caving

Zenia and I awoke early, excited for our big day in Vang Vieng. We ate breakfast at a small café near our guesthouse and then set off to the travel agency (a 1 minute walk around the block) to await our ride. One of the brilliant things about using a tour is that all the little details are taken care of for you, such as arranging transportation. After planning so many vacations and trips over the past few months, we were very happy to allow someone else take care of all the details for us. So we waited at the travel agency for our tour to begin at 9:30 am, excited at the prospect of having no worries for an entire day.

Our tuk tuk arrived loaded down with kayaks strapped to the roof and a large group of people in the back. We joined the mob in the back of the tuk-tuk and set off on a road leading us about 15 km upriver. One of the options for these tours is kayaking on the Nam Song River, but Zenia and I had opted not to kayak as I have never done it before and it seemed like a pretty bad idea to learn on a rampaging river during monsoon season in SE Asia. Instead, we opted for a slightly easier tour package that included trekking, caving, and tubing. We arrived at the riverside in a small village (where the inhabitants don’t speak Lao, but a local language) and unloaded almost all the people from the back of the tuk tuk and the kayaks from the top of the vehicle. Zenia and I then loaded back into the tuk tuk and we set off again, going further upriver to another small village where we unloaded at our starting location.

It turns out our tour was much less popular than the kayaking option and in the end there were only three of us taking a tour with our guide, me, Zenia, and a man named Kevin (from England). This turned out to be one of the best things that could have happened. I mean, we received an almost private tour for the price of a group tour. :) We began our tour in earnest by trekking across a long valley towards the base of some tall mountains where quite a few caves are located. We hiked along a trail that led from the main paved road to a small village and the caves beyond. We walked beside canals and rice paddies that created a lovely escape from the horror of the road itself. You see, it rained in Laos a LOT in the last few days. In fact, it poured. The result of this downpour of water was a muddy, soupy mess of a roadway. The unpaved road was a muddy swamp that sucked your feet down into the morass of reddish-brown goo. Having come ready for some “easy trekking” and our tubing adventure later in the day, our feet were incased in flip flops. It wasn’t long before Zenia and I were splattered all over with mud, front and back, due to the flip of our flops. Each step sucked our feet down into the mud (unless we were lucky and there was a raised, drier patch of ground), forcing us to yank our feet out, which shot mud up into the air in all directions (mostly in the direction of a clean spot on clothing).

Luckily, we had also come prepared to get very dirty. During our walk around town on Saturday afternoon we had seen several people return from tubing on the river and had noticed that they all returned extraordinarily filthy. Therefore, I had purchased shorts, a tank top, and some sandals simply to ruin during our long day on the river and was prepared. So, the mud did not really bother me and as soon as I pointed out to Zenia that in the US and Canada we would pay hundreds of dollars for a Local Laos Mud Skin Rejuvenating Treatment, we agreed that we didn’t mind getting a bit dirty.

So, we trekked through the mud, tramping along the Laos countryside for about 4 km until we arrived at the first set of caves. The mountains in Northern Laos are astounding sights, imposing crags that are carpeted green at the base and along the top, but look as if someone took a cheese grater to the sides of the top, shredding off patches of forest and revealing the jagged stone beneath. The caves that riddle the base of these mountains were formed from the water that runs down through the mountain, causing huge caverns to be cut out of the limestone sides. There are four main caves that tours in Vang Vieng visit and the first stop covers two of them. The first cave is located a few hundred feet up the side of the mountain, requiring a short hike through some woods to reach the entrance. Unfortunately, I don’t know the local name for the cave, so we will have to call it the Buddha Cave. The cave system is comprised of three main large chambers with some small tunnels connecting each of the chambers to the others.

We entered the cave with only a single, small headlamp each to illuminate our way, which meant that we were unable to see much without some concentrated head angling and that looking at each other caused blindness as we flashed each other with our lights. :) The slight illumination made the caves even more mysterious and interesting, however. The first room was a fairly plain chamber, although huge, with a slanting floor that seemed to push the visitor from the entrance further into the depths of the dark. Once again the rain struck a vicious blow, having run into the cave and turned the floor into one slick mass of mud. Zenia and I relinquished our sandals at the entrance to the cave and proceeded inside barefoot. Simply making it 20 feet past the entrance was a test of strength, agility, and balance. We must have made a hilarious sight, slipping and sliding our way across the floors, legs randomly sprawling out to the sides and us catching our balance with our hands on the floor in the mud, just in time to prevent a disastrous fall on our butts that would have left us sliding across the floor with no real way to stop. It took us about 10 minutes to navigate our way inside the entrance to the first cave and even more time to make our way to some drier ground off to the side of the cavern.

Funny Story-
As we neared the bottom of the first chambers’ initial slope, Zenia let out a gasp and grabbed my shoulders, shifting me in my precarious position so that I was between her and some unknown object within the cave. Swaying in my spot, trying desperately not to lose my balance and plunge down into the mud where I was sure to slide across the floor of the cave to the far wall, I asked what was wrong. In reply, a shaky arm came up next to my shoulder, pointed into the distance and Zenia said, “I saw eyes!” At this moment I could just imagine what she was thinking, “A bear is here in the cave with us!” but I was thinking something more along the lines of, “Ooo! A dragon?” Excitement laced through me, mixed with a heavy dose of trepidation at the thought of a wild Laos beast in our cave. Fortunately and unfortunately, it was neither a bear nor a dragon. As I looked in the direction of her pointing finger, my headlamp illuminated the head and body of a black dog, the same dog that had been following us from the local village and through the mountains, into the cave. Yes, indeed. Zenia had seen the reflective eyes of the vicious cave dog – complete with wagging tail and smiling face. With a quick laugh by me, and a reassurance that there were no bears from our guide, we set off again.

The cave itself was beautiful and we enjoyed our periodic looks around, when our balance was enough secured to allow us to break from our extreme concentration on our feet. When it came time to move into the next two chambers Zenia opted to remain behind, tired of the arduous caving and already feeling some cramping in her legs and feet from the exertion. Keven, our guide, and I pushed on, however, and went deeper into the pits. Each room was more stunning than the last. The second was a large, plain chamber where, we were informed, local kids often liked to come to play a game of football in the dark. But the third was the best. This cave sported a pool of water at the far end where it collected from a continuous stream feeding down from the ceiling. It also had what was called a “snake rock.” This was a bit of limestone on the floor of the cave where the water had dissolved some of the rock, creating small channels on the floor where the water would run back and forth in serpentine streams, separated by thin rock walls. Once you stand below this series of switchbacks you can see a snake formed in the walls that jut out of the floor.

We spent quite a while exploring these caves, about 30 minutes in rapt fascination with our surroundings, before finally returning to the main cave and Zenia and then slowly making our way across the floor towards the entrance once again. In the end I gave up the fight of keeping any bit of myself clean and bent over to use my hands to assist hauling me up the slope while my feet kept trying to slide away from me. When we reached the outside world again it was something of a relief, if only to not be struggling against the slick mud. After a quick hike back down the hillside, we took another trail across the base of the mountain to our second cave of the day.

***I am now getting ready to leave Vientiane for Thailand by bus and cannot finish this day’s adventures at this time. Tune in tomorrow for the amazing conclusion to my Vang Vieng fun and some news about my travels back to Thailand and to the island of Phuket, the next stop in my journey.

Last Weekend in Laos – Vang Vieng

Our final weekend in Laos. How could it have come to the end so soon? Oh wait…it didn’t. In fact, I have been counting down to this period for a while. I am ready to come home! But that is not the only reason I was looking forward to our final weekend in Laos. Our friends who were visiting from Chiang Mai left Vientiane on Wednesday to spend a few days in Luang Prabang and would then be meeting us in Vang VIeng on Saturday! Zenia and I had been planning this weekend for months and our trip to Vang Vieng signified the end of our travels around Laos as it was the last major place to go in this country.

Vang Vieng is located about 3 ½ hours North of Vientiane and can only be described as the party town of Laos. It is a place of drunkenness and revelry where people go to enjoy caving, kayaking, tubing on Nam Song River with frequent stops at riverside bars for bucket drinking (literally a bucket of an alcoholic beverage), mud volleyball, tug of war, etc. It’s filled with falang, being the place to go for serious drinking (and pot smoking – I do not partake) fun in SE Asia. Zenia and I decided we had to go as it was the last place for us to visit in Laos and would make our travels in this country complete. So when Ellie and Vanessa expressed an interest in going and meeting us there we jumped on the band wagon and headed out.

We decided early on, based on the activities available in Vang Vieng (as we all know, I’m not a drinker, so the alcohol held no appeal for me), we would only spend two days and one night in Vang Vieng, heading back to Vientiane on Sunday afternoon. However, we learned at work on Thursday that we would have Monday off as it was a major Buddhist holiday and we decided to extend our stay one extra night and come home on Monday morning instead. So, we spent our weekend in Vang Vieng, making the 3 ½ trip by bus on Saturday morning and the trip home via minivan on Monday morning.

Zenia and I had packed for our weekend on Friday evening and simply got up on Saturday morning, caught a tuk-tuk to downtown and went to Fruit Heaven for some breakfast. Our breakfast was amazing although a bit of a mistake as the shakes were so good that I drank two! Think about two large fruit shakes and then a 3 ½ hour bus ride. See the problem? Our bus was scheduled to leave for Vang Vieng at 10 am, but in typical Asian-time fashion, didn’t depart until around 11 am. We set out with a bus full of people, mostly European students who just got released for their summer holiday.

The bus ride itself was fairly uneventful. The first half of the trip was an easy drive through the Vientiane valley toward the mountains in the North. At the base of the mountains we made a pit stop for toilets and beverages – a blessing as I was in dire need of a restroom. Well, I have now learned that the further north you go in Laos, the fewer Western toilets you will find. At this particular rest stop we were each charged 1,000 kip to use the facilities which consisted of squatter toilets! I know you have all been waiting for the day when I finally use the more “native toilets” and that day has finally come. On Saturday afternoon at approximately 12:43 pm yours truly used a squatter toilet and I have to say…it wasn’t so bad.

The restrooms consisted of a dozen small rooms housing individual toilets within a large warehouse type structure. Each room was formed of plywood thrown up to form three walls and a door to cover the fourth wall. I walked into the “restroom,” closed the door behind me and surveyed the scene. I was standing in a small space with a garbage can to my right and a bucket filled with water on my left. I hung my backpack on a nail next to the door and contemplated my options. There was no way to avoid using the bathroom here (I did have TWO shakes earlier after all), so I would just have to suck it up. The “toilet” was set into the floor so that it was flush with the ground level. It is a roundish oval shape with places for your feet on either side that have grippers for the soles of your shoes. After using the “toilet” (I’ll leave that to your imagination), you use the bucket of water to “flush.” You simply continue to fill up the bowl of the toilet with water, which flushes the toilet. It’s all very interesting…and something I don’t really want to do again. I think I’ll just stick with my western toilets in the future. :)

Meanwhile in Luang Prabang…Our friends had departed Luang Prabang at 7 am to begin the 6 hour drive south to Vang VIeng. At the halfway point of their trip they ran into their first landslide. Laos had seen a huge deluge of water for the past week and a half and the result was horrendous landslides in the mountains. While on the bus we received a text update informing us that they planned to “wait it out” and in 3 hours or so it had been cleared by some locals and the long stream of traffic was back on their way. Ten minutes later they ran into their second landslide. And in this way their day continued…an unending series of landslides on the road to Vang Vieng.

Back on the Road from Vientiane…We got back on the road and began our ascent into the mountains. The road was a vicious serpentine that slithered through the mountains and induced many to sickness as the bus drivers are insane and take curves at a disastrous rate, passing other vehicles on blind turns, etc. The mountains more than made up for this, however. It was stunning. Every available inch of land was covered with thick forests except near the road where small villages sprang out of the landscape. Rice fields cultivated by the local farmers surrounded the immediate roadside, curving and turning into the base of the hillside, no longer the perfectly formed rectangular patches that can be found in the valleys of Laos, but odd triangular, curving shapes. The forests were a thick jungle, deserving of the title of rain forest, which made our drive beautiful and made the time pass more quickly.

Our bus arrived in Vang Vieng at around 2:30 pm. For each of our previous trips Zenia and I planned everything out, having our guesthouses booked ahead of time, a car/tuk-tuk ready to get us at the bus station, and activities planned for every moment of our trip, but this is not possible or advisable for Vang Vieng. Instead, going with the flow and figuring it out once you arrive is the suggested method of travel to this party town. Therefore, when we stepped off the bus in Vang Vieng we were without housing and without a clue. Luckily this was not a problem. The true town (for locals) is located at a bit of a distance from what is considered Vang Vieng today and the modern falang city center of Vang Vieng is covered in tourists, guesthouses, restaurants, and bars, a haven for the cheap backpacker. Zenia and I began to walk around the town in search for a guesthouse and after 10 minutes of walking had seen the entire town. Yup. It’s smaller than Luang Prabang.

On the Road From LP…The *ahem* interesting travel day continued for our beleaguered friends. At each landslide they were forced to get out of the bus and walk across the landslide so as not to weigh the bus down further during its crossing of the half cleared soil on the road. At one point they even had to push the bus across the landslide.

Now in Vang Vieng…We finally settled on a guesthouse that had air-conditioned rooms with two beds for 80,000 kip per night ($5 per person per night!), the average rate for an average room. After dropping off our bags in our room, we set out to take a closer look at the town and explore before our friends arrived. As I mentioned, the town is very small, consisting of about four blocks square. One of the highlights of the town is the cafes and restaurants. All open to the air, they consist of raised cubbies where patrons recline against pillows and cushions with tables over their legs and watch TVs that are mounted on the walls. These TVs play a continuous stream of Friends reruns (a very popular American TV show for those of you who aren’t up on pop culture) giving us our first taste of American TV in almost three months! Zenia and I were hooked (and hungry). We curled up in one of the booths, ordered some lemon juice and food and proceeded to watch a couple hours of Friends.

Meanwhile, three hours from Vang Vieng…A final landslide on the road from LP had proved too much for the bus and it was unable to go on. Our friends, not to be deterred, bargained with a van driver at the scene to drive them the rest of the way and for a mere 100,000 kip ($12) they were once again on the road to VV at 6 pm.

Back in VV…After the latest update from our LP crew, Zenia and I decided to head back to our guesthouse, clean up a bit, and then go out for some dinner. We ate at a bakery restaurant that was recommended by Lonely Planet and quite good. After dinner, while waiting for our group to arrive, we wasted time watching more Friends and relaxing. At 9:45 pm we began heading back to our guesthouse to continue the wait when a green shape ahead of us began to scream and then became a blur as it ran towards us. The green blob threw itself into our arms and we realized it was Vanessa who was nearly crying with her relief at being in Vang Vieng, almost 15 hours after she had set out from LP.

Our group was reunited and it felt good. Added to the four of us was Chris, also an intern in Chiang Mai, and a friend of his traveling in SE Asia, Lorena. I don’t think I have ever seen a more bedraggled and tired bunch. We collected our group and set off for our guesthouse so they could rent two rooms and shower. At 10:30 pm we set off again to find food for the LP group. The evening ended early as we were all quite tired and Zenia and I had a big day planned for Sunday. During our walk around the city earlier in the day we had stopped at a travel agency and booked a tour of caving, trekking and tubing for the next day, which would start at 9:30 am Sunday morning. Now prepare yourselves for some fun times tomorrow, because that is when the real adventures started!

Notes & Anecdotes

My dearest readers,

Another trip is soon coming our way. This very evening I am flying away from my beloved Laos to Vietnam for a weekend of touring Hanoi and Halang Bay! Zenia and I are very excited about our new trip, although we are a little nervous as we have heard that Vietnam is even hotter than Laos! Yes, indeed. The interns from Vietnam visited Laos last week and told us that the weather here was so much cooler than Vietnam that they actually felt comfortable standing outside at midday. Oh my…I am going to die from heat stroke. Luckily, Zenia and I have planned two wonderful days in Halong Bay, living on a “junk boat,” a traditional looking Chinese boat that is good for Bay cruising, and swimming all day long. I will come back with amazing new adventures to relate and another SE Asian country explored.

Before I leave for Vietnam, however, I want to relay a few notes and anecdotes from my previous travels that I think you will appreciate and that I forgot to include earlier…

1. SE Asia is the perfect land for the cheapskate. Not only is everything here cheap by American/Canadian/European standards, but this is a land without tipping. Yes, my friends. When you receive your bill in Thailand, leave the amount shown. When you go to pay in Laos, leave the extra behind in your wallet. Every meal costs just what the bill says and there is no need to pay any more. If you are cheap and don’t understand why tips are now required whenever you order food at home, come to SE Asia. *15% gratuity added to your bill for this information.

2. Stairs in SE Asia are a serious problem. Climbing any set of stairs in Thailand, Laos, or Cambodia is a test of ingenuity, strength, and balance. You see, in SE Asia, stairs are built without plan or design. Treads (the area where your foot is placed) may only have room to accommodate a child’s foot, forcing any normal adult to turn sideways to walk up and down the stairs. Stairs will vary in height, leading you to lunge up “one” step, a distance that would normally require three, on hands and knees, while taking a normal step up and skipping two in the next batch. And all the stairs are painted a dark color so that it is impossible to tell how steep the next step is going to be. Handrails are thought to be for wimps in this country and completely unnecessary. At the end of the day, if you can walk up and down a single set of stairs and not injure yourself in any major or permanent fashion, you’ve had a pretty good day.

3. Saem and Zenia are cover hogs. They steal the blankets and leave you to freeze. During our stay in Luang Prabang we discovered that the beds in Laos are HUGE. A “double bed” could easily fit all three of us. So, we determined that in Cambodia, we would just share a double and not spend the extra money on a “spare bed,” which turned out to be a sleeping pad for the floor. Therefore, Phnom Penh found the three of us sharing, Zenia and me on the outsides and Saem in middle. The night started out fine, each of us with plenty of space, able to roll over at will without bumping into the others. However, at around 2 am I awoke when my covers were being slowly tugged away from me. I grabbed the top sheet. It continued to slide out of my grip. I pulled harder and rolled myself over it. Slowly, I unrolled. I grabbed with all my might, yanked, and lost the sheet. Yes, I was sleeping with two blanket hogs. I rolled over and managed to sleep for another hour until the cold awoke me again. I cautiously leaned over, grabbed the edge of the sheet near Saem, and pulled. Simultaneously, Zenia and Saem growled at me in their sleep! I was so shocked I let go of the blanket and slid to the edge of the bed and out of, what I now called, the danger zone. At that point I gave up. I got out of bed, went over to the counter, grabbed a spare, dry towel from the stack for the next morning, and used that as a “blanket” for the rest of the night. My advice to you all when traveling in the future? Don’t sleep with a blanket hog unless you have a backup cover plan!

Look Below

Hello, faithful readers! I have been informed by one among your rank that some of you may have been confused about my "apparent" lack of blogging recently. I assure you, this is not the case! In fact, I have been blogging, but I have been attaching the proper date to the blogs so they are being filed below the post on Vientiane's sandstorm. To find the "old posts," which document my trip to Cambodia, simply look at the list of posts on the left hand side of the page and click on the post you wish to read.

I hope this helps any who have been confused when their page opens to an old post. I simply thought it would be easier to understand what I was writing about if the post had the correct date. :) (Another idea from that delightful reader I previously mentioned.) So, have no fear! I have been posting and more are to come!

Sandstorm

It has not rained in Vientiane in four or more days. As you may have guessed, since we’ve seen this before, it is now incredibly hot here. But last night, something new happened. We were out with our fellow interns from Vietnam last night (they are visiting Laos and working here for the week), sitting at some tables outside. I was facing the street and after a while, I began to notice a hazy appearance to the street, similar to fog slowly creeping in. I dismissed the vision, but the air soon became cloudier. Our table was covered by an awning and protected from the wind, so it wasn’t until we stepped into the street that we realized what the cloud was…it was sand. Vientiane was under siege from a sandstorm.

The lack of rain for days combined with a great deal of wind had caused all the sand and dirt on the roads to become airborne. As I stepped into the gale, I was pummeled with small sand pellets that felt like they were trying to drag the skin off my legs. Our ride back to our house via tuk-tuk found Zenia and I huddled inside, eyes closed, trying to withstand the constant buffeting of sand against our faces. By the time we returned home, we were covered in a layer of sand and dirt everywhere, even in our eyes. Who ever heard of a sandstorm during monsoon season? SE Asia has surprised me again.

Now, I hate to have to tell you this again, but I have been sick. I woke up yesterday morning with a stomach thing and stayed in bed all day to recover (except for my excursion out at night where I was in a bit of pain – probably not the best of ideas). Therefore, I am once again a bit behind on my blog. I will be working on it all morning though, so check in before bed time tonight ‘cause I will try to get it posted before then!

Ups and Downs

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!

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!

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…

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.

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!

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!

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.