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Published: June 28th 2009
The streets of Vieng Xai
Another Wild Wild West kind of town...The Road of a Thousand Turns
Heading to the Western border of Laos, Lee and I experienced road travel for the first time since entering this country. Loading into a small bus crammed with bags of grain, caged chickens, and staring locals we mentally prepared ourselves for the long 8 hour trip ahead of us to Sam Nuea. We were the only white people onboard, and the unblinking fascination of the other passengers made me feel as though I must be a recognized celebrity in this part of the world. Perhaps my pseudo-identity of Jenny Lopez is beginning to precede me.
Rambling out of town, we began climbing up the winding roads of the surrounding mountainside. I start up a mumbled chant of “I think we can, I think we can” to encourage the rundown bus to scrape and drag its way up the steep slope. Plastic bags were quickly distributed, and it didn’t take very long for me to discern their purpose. The sound of retching soon filled the air as women and small children began filling their bags in earnest. It’s reached the point in my travels where a bus ride just doesn’t seem complete unless there
Beautiful karsts
The road leading into town from our guesthouse... is at least 1 person vomiting through the ride. And as this particular bus journey has been nicknamed “the road of a thousand turns” you can imagine how the resulting onslaught of car sickness exceeded even my expectations. Fortunately for me, Lee was occupying the neighboring seat and so there was a small buffer between me and the sickly smell. Unfortunately for Lee, her bag was close enough to the action that it maintained some casualties.
At the halfway point, the bus pulled over at one of the many indiscriminate roadside restaurants for a break. Upon descending from the bus, Lee and I were immediately singled out by a guy who, we thought, owned the restaurant. He continually pushed us to join him for a drink, and despite our unwavering refusal, would not leave us alone. In an attempt to distract him, I asked how to say several basic words and phrases in the local language, including the words for yes and no. They seemed inordinately complicated but I diligently persevered in repeating them carefully after him until I had them memorized. Then, when our new friend began pressuring us to have just one beer with him, I was
Floating Guesthouse
Beautiful setting. Not so beautiful rooms. able to reply politely in Laos, “no thank you”.
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An aside:
We found out days later, while on a tour of the Vieng Xai caves, that the words we learned from our friend did not have the meaning we were told. This came to light when I repeated them to our tour guide, only to have him start blushing and laughing uncomfortably. It turns out that I’d been substituting the words “yes and no” for male and female genitalia during the past couple of days. I guess our friend from the bus journey ended up paying us back in kind for refusing his advances after all. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The second half of the trip passed largely like the first. We would climb up the mountain slopes painfully slowly, and then descend from them suicidally fast. Gradually we began dropping off passengers, one by one, until it was just Lee, myself, and 2 other male passengers in the bus; us at the back and them at the front. When buying the tickets in Nong Khiaw, we were assured that the trip would only take 8 hours, however it turns out that this estimate proved to be wildly
View from our lakeside restaurant
Gorgeous. Too bad we didn't have the foresight to bring a flashlight for the long walk back. optimistic. By hour 9 we were mildly annoyed and venting our frustration about the fact that nobody over here seems capable of giving an accurate time estimate - despite the fact that this bus trip is executed every single day and so they MUST know how long it actually takes. By hour 10 we were quietly resigned. By hour 11 we were looking uneasily out at the darkness, illuminated only by streaking flashes of lightening. By hour 12, I was struggling to stay awake and Lee was struggling not to pee her pants. Uncomfortable with the lateness of the hour and the fact that we were the only women (and foreigners) on the bus, Lee did not want to ask the bus driver to pull over so that she could take advantage of the relative privacy of the bushes. Instead, under the cloak of darkness, she cut the top off one of our water bottles and used this innovative and impromptu toilet to relieve herself while staying onboard. I could barely stifle my laughter as she poured first one load, and then two, out of the window of the moving bus. About 10 minutes later we arrived at our destination,
Falling down the rabbit hole...
Entrance to one of the many hidden caves and as it was now midnight, had to wake up a tuk tuk driver and then the hotel staff, before collapsing into blessed long-awaited sleep ourselves.
The next morning we only stayed in town long enough to eat a dubious breakfast of dry bread and oily eggs before jumping on a sawngthaew to Vieng Xai. Also on board were 2 giggling women who, despite speaking no English whatsoever, quickly cornered me about the fact that I was not wearing a bra, and then preceded to laugh, stare, and point at this fact for the entire journey. Despite wearing socks, shoes, long baggy pants, and a black T-shirt that day, I experienced the uncomfortable sensation of feeling half-naked for that long 30 minute sawngthaew ride. It might not have been as bad if there wasn’t also a couple of studiously disinterested guys in the truck who (not so slyly) snuck glances at my chest the whole way. And I’m pretty sure that one of them was graciously offered to me as stud services in case I wanted to “make babies”. I attempted to subtly cross my arms over my chest for the remainder of the trip.
Finally we arrived
Safe room
Airtight room where inhabitants could go if gas bombs were dropped outside in Vieng Xai, a cute little town dominated by a couple of small lakes and surrounded by dramatic limestone karsts riddled with the caves that make this town so famous. This is one of the most heavily bombed areas in Laos; who is one of the most heavily bombed countries in the world. During our tour, we learned about how the inhabitants of the town were forced to take refuge in these caves for 9 years while the Americans dropped bombs and landmines on the surrounding countryside. Daylight hours were spent exclusively indoors, and entire cities were carved out of the unforgiving rock in an attempt to house and maintain the local population. Hidden homes, offices, hospitals, and even theatres were all created inside of these limestone karsts as the people struggled to maintain some semblance of a normal and productive life during the years of 1964-1973. Large bomb craters decorated the surrounding landscape, and it was not uncommon to see old rusted landmines sitting out in people’s front yards. Even today, years later, the people of this country are scared to venture off the beaten path as thousands, perhaps millions, of landmines are still buried, undetonated, in the ground.
Sam Neua
A Laos family which clearly demonstrates the country's total obsession with television... It affects agriculture to such a degree that even though the population of Laos is small, and untilled land plentiful, the country is still unable to produce enough food to support itself. Hundred of people, including children, are injured or killed by landmines each year. The issue is so serious that the recognition of landmines is taught in the elementary schools in an attempt to prevent children from picking up these cute, round, yellow, death traps which look so cruelly like a discarded ball or piece of fruit. An organization named MAG is hard at work locating and safely disposing of these landmines, and during our stay in Vieng Xay we heard at least one being detonated nearby.
Having decided to stay in Vieng Xay for 2 days, I faced the very real danger of starvation and withdrawal, as not only was the food VERY local and not-so-appetizing, but there also was not a single can of coke to be found in the entire town (I looked!). Deciding that the consumption of sticky rice and cabbage was not so appealing for dinner, we set off across town in search of more options. We finally found a cute, lakeside restaurant
Day at the market
Where you can find anything you want and many things you don't... which was able to throw in some spinach and carrots with its cabbage, and delighted, settled down to eat. Stumbling home in utter darkness that night, I nervously noticed that a lone guy on a motorbike was tailing us down the road. Uneasy, I watched as he circled around us for a few moments before stopping. Putting on my tough “don’t mess with me” face, I waited to see what he wanted. With a shy smile and uncertain accent, he introduced himself as a recent graduate, and wanted to know whether it would be ok for him to practice his English with us for a few minutes, “please miss”. Turns out that he was hired to be the local English teacher at the elementary school, and was very nervous about his first day of work. At the end of our little chat, he thanked us effusively before cheerfully driving off. This is just one of the reasons why I love this country.
The following morning we caught the swangtheaw back to Sam Neua, where we delighted and disgusted ourselves by visiting the local market. Row upon row of bright umbrellas stretched out before us, offering cool shade to the
Making friends
Cutest little kid ever bustling trade taking place below. We passed mountains of fresh fruit, intricate stands of woven baskets, fascinating plates of fried insects, disturbingly unidentifiable tables of animal organs, and deep bowls of congealing blood (hopefully animal in origin). I barely knew where to aim my camera first, and was thankful that I had already eaten. This was the market of my imagination. This was a taste of the true rural spirit of Laos. And while I was so happy that we had taken the time to visit this remote province, I was also excited to be heading back to the land of coca cola and banana pancakes. In the meantime, pass the pig head please…
Signing off,
Jenny Lopez
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