Travel to Live. Live to Travel

Chick on a stick...not actually very tasty.

While in the Philippines, my cousins and uncles have been trying endlessly to gross out Hugh with “exotic” Filipino food. I think this is a pretty common practice around the world, where rather than be embarassed about some local delicacies, most people consider Americans (and its usually Americans who are so grossed out by foreign delicacies) to just have boring diets. And honestly–with our health, who are we to be grossed out by what people eat? I’ve come to consider the giant bowls of fat they serve at restaurants back home to be pretty foul.

However, Hugh’s a pretty adventurous eater so he always ends up grossing people out in their attempts. In Japan we/he sampled such delicacies as: bees, sake with a dead snake coiled in it, raw horse meat, not to mention many of the more normal things like seaweeds and shellfish that some people would find repulsive. In Laos, we tried silkworms and water buffalo. I’ve had turtle-shell jelly in China and Taco Bell in America. It isn’t about trying to gross each other out, or be adventurous or anything. There are certain things we won’t do–I won’t eat anything killed before my eyes (like the snakes and their beating hearts in Vietnam) which are often done just to be grotesque for tourists and not because the majority of the population eats it. But we figure that if people in a culture eat this sort of food, then it’s certainly worth trying. At worst, just don’t eat it again. It PROBABLY won’t kill you. We rolled our eyes at tourists in Laos who would go on and on about how horrible it was that Laotians ate certain things (civet cats, random wildlife, birds), never realizing that certainly certain groups of people think the Western diet of beef is possibly horrible, or that Laotians are poor and hunting game in the forest isn’t about sport, but about survival.

Food is all very cultural anyways. I never grew up on fancy cheese (many Asians don’t) and as a result, I often find the cheeses that my European friends love smell and taste like vomit, or worse. I mean really, do you know WHY blue cheese has blue flecks in it? My point is–blood pudding or dog meat or whatever. Food is food.

Saddam Hussein pizza?!

In the Philippines there are delicacies such as dinaguan, a stew made of pigs’ blood, which isn’t really that strange to some cultures who eat blood puddings or marrow, but most infamous with non-Filipinos is balut, which is chicken embryo.

Somehow though, Hugh managed to finally put my family’s taunts to rest when he ate a day-old chick which are served whole on a stick and meant to be eaten as such–bones, innards, head, feet and all. My uncle who will eat balut seemed positively disgusted by the fact we ate it, though you could joke and call it overripe balut. My cousin Jean made him do it and he heroically did so, announcing “tastes yolky!” as he did so.

While in South East Asia, many people want to visit ethnic minority hill-tribe villages. This is understandable as I think many travelers want a taste of the exotic and the hint of adventure that visiting remote villages can have. On the other hand, if you aren’t careful about how you choose your tour you could end up like the thousands of people who end up jaded by the experience, both tourists and villagers alike.

One of the most important things is to choose a tour group that is reputable and ethical. Any sort of contact with tourists changes a village, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Tribes are allowed to develop and change, just like our societies do. This also means some people may have romantic notions of people living in huts and wearing traditional outfits all the time, the reality is, like the many other groups of people, jeans and t-shirts are more comfortable, and easier to acquire.

There’s good development and bad development. Some tour groups basically just dump a busload of tourists into a village. The village gets no money from these tours, so they basically have to beg or sell junk to the tourists who come. You know you’re on a tour like this if you come in on a bus and then have a thousand people try and sell you trinkets. There are a few companies, especially in Laos, where the actual tribes either run the village visits or get money or community development assistance. These are probably the most “authentic” experiences you can have, though no experience is really going to be authentic on a tour group. That’s just how it is, but not everything can be “authentic” anyways. What does that word even mean?

Tourism dollars can be a great help to tribes, but can also be exploitative. Take for example, the case of the Long-Necked Karen women in northern Thailand. Historically speaking, these tribes did not exist in Thailand. They’re actually refugees from Burma who basically live in a village built solely for tourism purposes. They are not considered Thai citizens and have few real options to leave. If they don’t wear the neck rings, they don’t get money. Their village is basically a human zoo for people who’re curious about them. There’s nothing wrong with this curiousity, but people should know the situation. If you really want to see them, go to Myanmar. More details about this group can be read about it here and all over the internet.

Before you trek or board a tour bus, try and make an effort to learn a bit about the culture you want to visit. There’s excellent museums in Chiang Rai, Thailand and in Luang Prabang, Laos. At least that way, authentic or not, you did more than just snap a photo at someone.

To put it simply, Laos was amazing. While it doesn’t have the bustle of many neighboring countries, it also doesn’t have the hustle.

Here’s a smattering of our memories of Laos now that I finally have the internet to upload the backlog of photos:

Crossing rickety bridges is fun. Lying in a hut and watching other people do it is more fun.

Spending 6 hours in a hut relaxing

Delicious food stalls with friendly vendors everywhere you go

Roads in Laos mean a 15 mile journey can take 2 hours...

Many people are able to do back-breaking labor while joking with each other and smiling at passersby

Local buses. Just as slow as a VIP bus, but more fun. "Natural AC" is awesome too!

Beautiful scenery and little villages everywhere you go

Main worry of the day: fruit falling on your head

Buying from friendly people who don't do hard-selling (this photo was not staged--the vendor actually smiled!)

The many creative uses for the thousands of spent missiles and the like

Luang Prabang, the second largest city in Laos, would be a blip on most other countries' maps

Young boys who would normally be out making mayhem are instead living monastic lives.

You meet children with very few toys or playthings--but they don't seem to care that much. Wheelbarrow with your dad beats mostly battery-operated junk anyways.

The town supermarket

If you want to see more, there’s probably several hundred photos you can look at here: http://www.flickr.com/himene/

Just a selection of photos taken off a speeding boat (in most cases), sorry about the blur =P As always, more photos at http://www.flickr.com/himene/ just navigate by sets since I’ve been uploading a huge backlog of Laos photos and the photostream isn’t in chronological order (or any order).

Woman watching from a boat (probably doubles as her home)

There are two ways to go: slowboat or "speedboat" aka canoe with a motor -- note the crash helmet.

A village along the Mekong

Dawn on the Mekong. Very eerie and beautiful. Lots of mist and birds chirping.

A local shop selling and making laolao aka rice whiskey

Last night’s accomodation can be best described, at best as “basic” at worst as “dismal.” As we unloaded off the boat, we were bombarded with touts who wanted to bring us to their insanely overpriced guest-houses. The one Hugh and I finally settled on is probably the most basic one we have ever stayed at, thus giving us a new thresh-hold of pain we can withstand: the bed was rock-hard, though it did kindly have a mosquito net rigged up above it. The toilet, though western-style, had to be flushed by pouring water down it. The hot shower was down the hall.

None of this would have really been bad except for the fact the rooms were basically jerry-rigged out of pieces of corrugated steel. We could hear conversations happening clearly in rooms all around us and the room was freezing. The power went out at 9pm, but that didn’t matter as Hugh and I were already shivering ourselves to sleep while fully dressed. On the positive side: Mama Souk who ran the place was a very industrious, energetic, hilarious woman. (ie: we were trying in vain to get her to pronounce Hugh’s name, which is notoriously difficult for Asians to pronounce. She kept saying “Cue, cue!” so finally I said, “No, Hugh–you know, like the actor? Hugh Grant?” and she gave me this huge cheeky grin and knowingly said, “yeah yeah, Cue Gran!” Okay, Cue it is.) How she managed to not only sell us the rooms but also lunch in the morning is a testament to this woman’s business skill.

Boys bathing before dinner in a village by the Mekong

The next morning, the boat journey continued on a decidedly crappier boat. Instead of the nice leather seats we had yesterday, we were treated to poorly constructed wooden benches. It really wouldn’t have been so bad except for the fact we had to listen to a couple travelers whining on the boat for hours on end. One guy, we’ll call “Eric” was pissed off that a bottle of beer cost 20,000 kip on the boat instead of 10,000. He refused to pay the bill, but also refused to stop whining about it for 4 hours straight. Christ man, just buy the damn beer. I really don’t understand the attitude of people who travel solely for the cheap beer.

I should add that 10,000 kip is about $1.25, so he was angry about having to pay $2.50 for a giant bottle. The whining finally stopped, but naturally, we had to pass a small wooden boat laden with Beerlao bottles so the bitching started all over again. At one point he also commented, “Man, this boat is too touristy.” But he must have been ignoring the dozen or so locals and their cargo. He also whined when we stopped to drop off those locals. Also, new roads being built mean anyone who can take a road will take a road–the locals lived in village with no road access. Without tourism, the once bustling river traffic would disappear. It’s give and take.

New friends eating a well-deserved feast

We finally arrived in Huay Xai, however, it was too late to cross into Thailand. The 5 of us (now 6–we picked up a Chinese girl named Jaja) were a bit disheartened, until we were approached by a woman offering us rooms in her guesthouse. The price was 200baht (about $6)–the same as last night, but we were offered warm rooms, GLASS in the windows, hot showers in the rooms, and amazingly, television. It was amusing watching how fast our spirits were raised by little things such as glass and sealed rooms. After settling in, we set out and had a bit of a Thai/Lao feast and really great conversation. See, bad mornings don’t always turn into bad days. =)

Not our boat, but looked just like it

Although we would have loved to stay in Laos for longer, we decided it was time for us to leave. Without a doubt we’ll return (especially to visit southern Laos), but for now the Luang Prabang tourist prices, fairly depressing food options, and desire for modern conveniences meant that Hugh and I have decided to leave.

Since I couldn’t do a Yantze river cruise, or go to Halong Bay in Vietnam, we decided to take the slow boat up the Mekong to the Thai border. It proved to be easy enough–we just showed up at the boat terminal (er, that’s a pretty big word for what it actually was) and were shown to an aquamarine, wooden boat. We were warned the boat would have wooden seats and would be really crowded, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. We had lots of room and the seats were leather recliners.

Kindly taken by a fellow traveler. Note the cold-weather clothing.

While floating along, we struck up conversations with several people on the boat. Midori, a Brazilian-born Japanese girl (now living in Japan) and traveling alone; Marie, a French girl who had been to Laos before and was doing volunteer work; and Kris, a Canadian nurse, who on her travels had climbed Everest base camp amongst other things. The conversation helped the time fly as all three were very interesting, talkative people who actually had things to say beyond the typical backpacker conversations about cheap beer. During lulls in conversation, we watched river life.

We passed many ethnic minority villages where we saw women in colorful head-wraps doing work along the riverbanks, we passed villages so remote that the only access they have is by boat, we saw people bathing in the freezing Mekong before dinner (they bathe dressed in a sarong). We stopped several times to drop off people and their cargo–one woman was bringing empty rice sacks to fill, another man was carrying around nothing but a boat rudder (did he have to go all the way to Luang Prabang for that?), while two women had crates of energy drinks, clothing, and other random stuff–presumably for their shop. When travelers whine about having to pay $2 in Laos for something, I don’t think they realize that it’s because often it had to be imported into Laos from Thailand, and then carried by young girls on boats to a village.

Oh, right, did we mention that it’s cold? In Luang Prabang it was hitting 40 degrees (around 10 C), and that didn’t really make a boat ride enjoyable what with the wind and Mekong spray wetting your face and ears. If we finish this trip without pneumonia, I’ll be shocked (and very pleased to be wrong.)

Anyways, we arrived in Pakbeng just before dark. Pakbeng is a remote little village that would be fairly unremarkable, and probably a cute little town, if it wasn’t flooded with tourists every night. Unfortunately, this has meant that entrepreneurs have turned everything they can into guesthouses (more on that tomorrow.) We checked into one place and we and the 3 girls we met all decided to have dinner together. It was tasty and the conversation was good, so despite Pakbeng being a dreary little town it wasn’t a bad night.

Lao women giving their offerings to young Buddhist monks and novices

From the age of 12, boys can become novices and live in a wat (monastery). While a full-fledged monk has 200 or so precepts (rules) they have to abide by, novices only have 8. Nonetheless, it’s a strict lifestyle–no games, no running around and jumping (specifically, no jumping), very few possessions, and possibly the most difficult to me–no food after 12 noon. Every morning, the monks wake up at 4am for chanting (and in process, wake up the entire neighborhood) and then do an alms round where they take their bowls and walk the streets accepting food and other offerings from people. In Luang Prabang, the procession is quite beautiful with hundreds of monks filling the streets (though watching dumb tourists get in their way and shove cameras in the monks’ faces is pretty meh).

A procession of monks and people (tourists) giving offerings, a woman selling overpriced rice to tourists watches on

It’s fun seeing these young boys trying to behave, but we’ve caught more than a few being “naughty.” We saw one boy with a cellphone, when he saw us looking at him, he guiltily put it away. Another time, while climbing a hill, we saw two boys hiding behind a statue speaking in hushed voices, I can only guess that the illicit conversation was about video games or girls. Hugh noted, “I look at them and I see my baseball team, you know shaved heads and everything…” (referring the baseball club boys in Japan.) While many young novices surely want to become monks, many are orphans, or want to go to school, or are sent there by their parents and don’t want to be there. Infractions like having a fruit shake in a nightmarket can be punished by beatings or being expelled from the wat. During our time in Laos, we’ve met many young men who were once novices, but decided to be normal men when they turned 20 (which is when a novice must decide.) I look at these young boys and then think back to the ones I was just teaching in Japan and I see this huge gap in personality and dedication, but then I see these monks watching kids play games enviously or peeping at girls through a fence and I’m reminded that in the end, boys will be boys.

Lemongrass, galangal, spicy wood, and many other things make up the base flavors of Lao food

Hey foodies! This post and photos are for you! In Luang Prabang, we decided to check out the cooking class by Tamarind (a restaurant) which was highly regarded (and turned out to be good).

The class started out with a market tour led by our Lao teacher, Jack. He pointed out various herbs, meats, and sauces used by Laotians (insert whinging by an annoying old Australian couple here about the cleanliness of the market and how awful it is to eat certain meats, waaaah). After that, we were taken to the riverside kitchen to cook.

Something I noticed before is that in Lao, most cooking is down over hot coals. Most people don’t have electricity at home and therefore, no stoves or ovens (remember, electricity only really came to Lao 15 years ago). Cooking is primarily done by grilling, stewing, or steaming. This is also one of the poorest, most isolated countries on earth so, traditionally, food is also very simple. The ingredient list might be quite long, but it’s all stuff that can be picked in your garden (or foraged from the forest/riverbank.)

Steaming sticky rice over coals, the Lao way of cooking

Another important point in Lao cuisine is the fact they use sticky rice to eat. They pull rice out of the steamer, then ball it up into their hands and dip it into different food. Therefore, Lao food tends not to be as soupy/creamy/oily as Thai food. Lao food tastes more “herby,” and what we discovered was that it was flavor overload for basically everyone.

On the menu were several dishes. Orlahm, is a traditional stew in Luang Prabang made with buffalo meat and basically every herb you can think of in huge quantities. It also contained something they call spicy wood, which is…wood. It was pretty weird eating wood, the outside is super bitter and spicy while the inside tastes like peppery chicken. It also makes your mouth feel like you’ve been injected with novacaine. I don’t feel any guilt in saying I’d never eat it again.

Hugh models a wonderfully marinated tilapia

We also made a delicious steamed Tilapia in banana leaves. Once again, the marinade was made up of every herb in existence. But it was really, really nice. A few little alterations and I could definitely add this to my dinner repetoire (the authentic way is a little too flavor country for me.)

Next was the technically difficult to make, stuffed lemongrass. How do you stuff lemongrass, you ask? Well. It was hard. But the results were delicious. Ingredients were minced chicken, lemongrass, every herb in existence (okay, okay–Lao basil, coriander, kaffir lime…oh geez, I don’t know.)

We also made our own spicy Lao dip and laap (a meat salad–I made mine with water buffalo meat). Hugh indulged in the fried worms/catepillars that were offered as a snack. I declined. Nonetheless, I knocked back a shot of lao-lao (aka moonshine) mixed with honey and orange. It still didn’t provide me the courage to eat the grubs though.

All in all, a very good use of the day. You know how they say the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach? I always thought that saying had real meaning beyond men being really hungry. =P I believe food is a great way to understand someone, and a culture. Thailand knew this when they sent chefs all over the world to open up Thai restaurants: get people to love your food, and they will love your country (or at least they’ll be up for a visit.)

Grilling stuffed lemongrass while orlahm bubbles on the "stove"

Voila! Stuffed lemongrass and steamed tilapia

We went trekking yesterday through Luang Prabang province, here is a bunch of photos…and text.

Hugh feeding our elephant some sugar cane

For the first part of our trek, we went to an elephant park that uses tourism dollars to try and save elephants from a hard life of logging (which I saw in Cambodia) or being poached. Letting humans ride on your back for an hour and then feed you treats is a much nicer job than dragging/shoving logs around. After our ride, we got to feed our elephant various treats. Ours really seemed to like sugar cane…

Our guide, Bunsai, and Hugh on our way to Houfy village

After the riding, we began our trek to a Khmu village in the hills. It was a relatively easy trek, but considering the heat and having to walk up and down a mountain it was still a bit rough. Our guide, Bunsai, pointed out the new rubber trees that Lao villages are growing to try and make more money, as well as various wild vegetables and grains. It was a really relaxing walk with only birds and buzzing insect sounds to listen to. Along the way, we saw villagers picking wood and forest goods and the sort…

A typical Lao meal: veggies, a main, and sticky rice

When we arrived at the village, we were taken to a special building they use for tourists. Houfy village is extremely poor, but they have lots of rice so they’re not hungry. Eco-tourism helps the village raise funds, and they’re careful not to bring too many tourists in. It was a little weird and felt a bit voyeuristic, but no one was putting on a show for us, and for the large part people completely ignored us (except for the children, but that’s children.)

Villagers building a new hut

While walking around the village, Hugh noted that many of the people (especially women) seemed far more interested in me than they were in him (a white guy). We wondered if it was because they looked at me and saw someone who looked like themselves, but was clearly living a vastly different life. I’m sure a lot of it was just general curiousity. What nationality or ethnicity was I? Why was I with a white guy anyways? Why am I wearing a tacky tourist t-shirt and exposing my arms to the sun?

Children doing hard labor

One of the most interesting things on our trek was seeing the children. We saw plenty of children laughing and playing, and many adorable children who seemed to take so much pleasure in just waving to us and shouting “sabaidee!!” We also saw children hard at work. On our way out of the village, we passed three small children under the age of 10 carrying bundles of wood. They had roped tied around the bundles and then wrapped around their foreheads, so the load was mostly bore on their heads. Our guide joked that the Khmu people had stong heads, but the Lao people had strong backs. He wondered if their necks get shorter from carrying things like that. I wondered if I could have carried the load right then and there (probably not.)

Elephants walking through Tad Sae waterfall

After the village, we trekked to Tad Sae waterfall, passing some smaller villages and elephant tracks along the way. When we reached Tad Sae, it was like entering some magical video game wonderland. The waterfall poured into aqua blue lagoons which poured into more. It was like infinity pool flowing into more infinity pools. The water was freezing, but clear and refreshing. It was definitely an excellent way to treat ourselves after walking for hours.

Best. Waterfall. Evar.

$2 t-shirts, hill-tribe silver, hand-made shoes, bag made of antique Tibetan fabric...and more

For months Hugh and I have been extremely careful about what we buy during our travels. We’d either have to carry it around with us for months, or ship it back to America/Australia (which is costly.) However, since we are winding down on our travels and since it’s just so easy and fun to shop in Luang Prabang we’ve gone a bit crazy.

Unlike other night markets, the one here is insanely chilled out. No one yells at you, “hey lady, you buy!” or our personal favorite, “Hey you, buy something?!” I love that. <Insert your best industrialist tycoon voice here> “Oh why thank you, dear. I was just thinking I wanted to buy something today since this money is getting quite heavy *chortle* I’ll take two of those–what are they? Ah yes, elephant shaped incense holders.”

We just get to wander through stalls and pick over things–yesterday a man entertained us with a gun made out of bamboo. He made no attempts to sell to us, just seemed to have fun showing us his sling shots and flint and tinder kits and crossbows. After his demonstration, we headed off and he smiled and said goodbye and that was all. Trust me, this kind of sedate shopping just doesn’t happen anywhere else. Needless to say, we’ve been very, very naughty. I’m not quite sure how we’ll fit this all in our bags, but we’ve only been here 2 days and we have a week to go. I wonder how long it takes before I snap and buy one of those awesome Indiana Jones-like gas lamps? =P

Reading along the list of ailments and cures...

Hugh and I were wandering around the more “locals” area of Luang Prabang when we came across a little cart with bags of dried bark, berries, and grasses neatly arranged on top. Small baskets had dried leaves and one contained rounded stones, a worn book on top read “Lao Traditional Medicine.” We stopped for a moment, and an old man grinned at us with a toothless smile.

He opened the book and pointed to an ailment, then gesticulated to his cart, “heart disease” said the book as he gestured to his heart. We shook our head “no” and smiled. He then pointed to the next ailment in the chart which was for headache, then grabbed his head and made moaning noises. This is where the story gets hilarious.

Next was an herbal tea that was good for spasms. So the man demonstrated what spasms where by shaking his hands violently and making a sound that I can only type as “ablabababaaba” with his tongue. Hugh and I burst out laughing. Encouraged, the man pointed at the next ailment: gonorrhea.

He then proceeded to make the international children’s symbol for sex, inserting a finger into his fist. He then pointed at Hugh who protested quite loudly that he didn’t need a cure for it. The man grinned and pointed to the next venereal disease, which brought upon more laughter.

The next moments were spent having a “conversation” by pointing at various words on a well-worn paper he kept with him. He asked where we were from, if we were married, etc. Just a hilarious old man eager to talk with people, I guess, and yet one of the many experiences that’s making me never want to leave Laos.

We’re currently stuck over what to do with our remaining time (and money). There’s so many things we can do in Luang Prabang: cooking classes, trekking, weaving classes, elephant trekking, elephant trainer courses, etc. Luckily, we can stay here for as long as we like, and actually it’s more cost effective if we do (since we have to go to Thailand next). Here’s a sample of our daily costs…

Breakfast (eggs, sausages, coffee, toast etc.) = $6 US

Lunch (sandwich from a food cart, or maybe some noodles) = $2

Dinner (two Lao dishes and sticky rice, or maybe a pizza and salad, beer and drinks) = $10

Guesthouse accomodation (hot water, attatched bathroom, fan, good location, decent bed) = $8

Total cost = $26 for TWO people ($13 a person)

And we’re also living very, very comfortably. We’re not includng the one-hour massages for $4, or the silver jewelry for $3. If we were willing to forgo hot water and our own bathroom, and if we ate like a locals every meal, our costs drop to under $10 a day. Quite frankly though, the prices could be 4x higher and I’d still love it here. It’s not about the costs at all, really, though that does allow us to stay here longer. What we love is the atmosphere and the people.

There’s none of that hustle-and-bustle that you see in Thailand or Vietnam, very few of the jaded faces, none of the obvious hatred to tourists you see in those countries (and is pretty deserved, honestly). I think they’ve learned the lessons of Vietnam, which sadly was one of the most unpleasant places we went to. Prostitution is illegal here, and foreigners cannot have sexual relations with Lao people unless they’re married. This also makes the atmosphere much nicer for me, since no one immediately assumes that since I’m with a white guy, I’m a prostitute. It also means there’s fewer nasty old sex-tourist men, and since all establishments must close by 11:30pm and there’s a 12am curfew, it also means Laos isn’t party central so you get fewer obnoxious jerks on their gap year.

There’s so many commendable fair trade shops and treks, lots of eco-tourism, and programs to ensure tourists behave themselves around the Lao people. It’s a wonderful effort and I’m really hoping the next time I can make it out here nothing much has changed except to clean up the countryside and raise more people out of poverty, because I’m positive we’ll come back, but next time we’ll bring friends.

So, here Hugh and I were sitting in a net cafe, when four young novice monks entered the shop. They were dressed in the usual saffron-colored robes and shaved heads and eyebrows. You see these monks commonly around South-East Asia, but Hugh and I are always amazed to see them doing “normal things” like buying DVDs or playing on the Internet. I know they’re not Amish and there’s no law against them using technology, it’s just interesting juxtaposition I guess.

Just moments ago, the two novices sitting next to us were smiling at us and giggling over something written in English. Hugh tried to extend a helping hand, but they just smiled at him. When they finally got up to leave, they walked over to us and asked Hugh where he was from and all that in perfect English. They were especially excited to hear Hugh was from Melbourne, since there’s apparently a Buddhist temple there and one of the monks friends had been there. Funny conversation.

A small collection of jars and a pretty tree

One of my initial reasons to come to Laos was to visit the Plain of Jars. We love mysterious ruins/monuments and the journey to find them. Going to the Jars wasn’t really much of an adventure, per se, but the Jars themselves were creepy and ethereal.

Bricks warning about UXOs. Always stay between the white side of the bricks... or you could be in that bomb crater in the distance of this photo

There’s various legends and myths around the jars, but the one with the most proof is that they used to be coffins. Anyways, all I can say for sure is that it was weird and surreal trekking into a forests, through rice fields, and up a mountain and suddenly seeing all these ancient stone jars littered around the area. It was also weird passing by so many bomb craters.

I didn’t know this before leaving, but Laos is one of the most heavily bombed countries on earth. Even today they have UXOs (unexploded ordanances) which kill/maim people every year. All around the Plain site were little stone markers warning you not to stray from the area of risk getting killed. Crazy.

This jar was particularly big...

Since we enjoyed our last caving experience, we decided to go kayaking and caving today… and our inexperience mixed with the relative difficulty of it and a guide more interested in asking questions about English proved to be a little trickier and nerve-wracking than before. This time we were taken to the biggest cave in Vang Vieng, which might have been awesome…except for the fact we had to climb in and out of the cave with a CANDLE. A candle! What the hell?! Not like, ooh look at me and my awesome candle-stick and candle-holder…I mean, a birthday candle (photos later.)

Well, we’re not dead…but Laos has never scored high on the whole health and safety standards thing. I mean, the fact that I have to plug my computer into a bamboo pole should say something. Everytime I type I get electrocuted. =P

Anyways, we’re off tomorrow for Phonsavan and the mysterious Plain of Jars… so long Vang Vieng, it’s been awesome.

Far left hammock? We were there.

We just spent all day lying in a hammock on a bamboo thatched hut over the river. We periodically drank delicious pineapple and banana drinks. We watched cows walk across the river. We watched kids swim. We picked pretty rocks out of the river. I fell asleep in a big blue hammock while the wind blew over my hair and the sun kissed my face. Hugh, however, did not get tan (it’s the pasty-gene).

I don’t want to leave. But then again, we don’t have to…

Until our visa runs out, at least. =P But then again, we can always get an extension…

We decided today to go on a trekking/caving tour with Green Discovery, a eco-tourism company. The trip was described as an easy trek and caving, but we were more than pleased to find out that it was alot more adventurous than it sounded.

The trek was easy enough, but the caving was…well, caving. We were given these janky head-lamps that were nothing more than flightlight heads attatched to giant batteries. The caves themselves had no footpaths, no electricity, none of that stuff you normally see in caves. Instead we had to clamber over rocks, slip down muddy paths, and very carefully make sure we didn’t fall into any gaping holes. It was scary as hell and a lot of fun. One of the caves we went to had a river in it so we lay in tubes and pulled ourselves along with a rope. I got scared when my headlamp started dying, luckily our guide Vath saved me before I got eaten by the darkness.

Our guide Vath, me, and Hugh wearing dodgy "waterproof headlamps" after river caving

One of the highlights was when Hugh spotted a pomelo (kinda like a giant orange/grapefuit) on the ground. Our guide was all, “You wanna eat it?” and grabbed one, then hacked it open with a machete. We sat around having a conversation, and offered the caretaker of the caves some of the fruit. He passed and explained that he could eat them whenever he wanted, just pick them up and grinned with a toothless smile. It was a great way to have a break after just climbing hand over hand out of a slimey cave.

I love this country.

Drifting down the river

We went tubing down the Nam Son river today, but unlike any other tubing I’ve done anywhere else, in Laos they’ve sent up bars along the river bank so every 50 meters you float down, someone throws you a rope, pulls you in, you drink (a few) $1-$2 beers and then continue your float. Needless to say, most people end this 2km trip pretty wasted.

Despite the fun I had, I really wished I had brought along more friends with me. It’s the sort of thing that would be really awesome with a buncha friends (being sloshed is completely optional.)

Much harder to take a photo while in a tube than you think ;p

We took the trip from Vientiane to Vang Vieng on a local bus. Being sore from constant scamming in Thailand and Vietnam, we were stunned to actually meet helpful people who weren’t trying to secretly sneak us onto a crowded mini-bus, but were just kindly pointing which one to go to. The local bus proved to be much nicer than “VIP” buses. Yeah, sure the VIP ones are airconditioned, but you don’t really need it. Opening a window is much cooler (Laos isn’t humid at the moment.) Furthermore, A/C means nothing when there’s 25 extra people on board.

We passed lots of small rural Laotian villages and what struck me was that nearly every home, hut, or shanty had a satellite. I saw homes that looked like speaking above a whisper would send the entire thing crashing into a river, homes with probably no running water, yet they all had satellite televisions.

We arrived in Vang Vieng in one piece, but half expecting cracked out zombie stoners to be roaming the streets. Instead, the town is incredibly chilled out. The locals are extremely friendly and walking around town has been a pleasure. One of the best/worst things about Vang Vieng are all the TV bars. They’ve got TVs playing movies or TV shows and these big lounging platforms so you can lie on pillows and just zone out on TV (or something else.) We spent hours watching the Family Guy and just eating pizza. Now we’re in a bar (Hugh’s in a hammock) eating cheesy fries and watching the new Indiana Jones…

This has definitely been pretty awesome.

Perhaps we spoke too soon, but after a few days in Vientiane I’m not as enthralled anymore. Having some tuktuk driver offer you drugs on a dark road is a little unnerving.

Anyways, we leave today for Vang Vieng to do some “adventure” (or soft-adventure) travel.