Pii Mai

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We quickly passed through the small capital of Vietiane, staying only two nights and hitting the hot tourist spots before moving on south. Our goal was to get to Si Phan Don before the full tilt of the Lao New Year began, also know as Pii Mai. Otherwise we were likely to either have a very delayed bus or a slightly drunk Lao driver. Neither sounded very appealing.

A 6 a.m. bus ride brought us down through the mountains and dropped us off on the southern side of the city, near the Mekong River and by a huge indoor market. I pushed aside my desire to shop, shop, shop and we hired a truck to take us to the center of town. Suprise, suprise, it was only two blocks away and we were charged $3 for a mouthful of dust and new bruises on our legs. The first afternoon we did little except for catching up on our emails and sightseeing the town a bit. It was much too hot for anything else that required effort or ambition. However, the next morning we were set to go off for the day, regardless of the heat and humidity.

Jen, Liz, and I biked to Pha That Luang, the most important national monument in Lao (at least according to the good ol' LP). I was so "wat'ed" out by this point that I was quite content to lounge in the shade with Jen while Liz volunteered to pay the admission fee and tour the shiny golden temple. Our next highlight on the "map of things to do and see for western tourists while backpacking in Lao" was to tour the Lao Historical Museum. They were suppose to have a spectacular exhibit on the revolutionary war. We followed the directions that apparently led to nowhere and were pointed in several different directions before arriving at a grim looking white building surrounded by barbed wire. The guards would not let us in. I don't know why, but we put on our best smile to no avail. Giving up, we decided to bike back towards the center of town to Patuxai, a huge commercial building built in 1969. The cement was donated by the US for the construction of a new airport. Why the cement was used for this building and not the airport, I have no idea. Liz wanted to climb to the top and snap some photos. Feeling rather lazy, I once again stayed below to guard the bikes and guzzle water. While lounging in the shade, I met a nice gentleman from Holland and we chatted and traded travel tales until the girls came down. We made plans to meet Rob for dinner and drinks later in the evening and rode back to town. The evening cooled down nicely. We sat along the MeKong, telling horrible jokes for a majority of the evening.

Feeling rather ambitious the next morning, we hopped on a bus bound for Xieng Khuan, a little park full of strange and slightly distrurbing Buddha images and cement sculptures. Rob joined us for the trip and had a delightful time chasing the kids around the park and drenching them in water. The new year celebration had begun!
We were a bit hesitant to return to our hotel and gather our bags because we faced a 14 hour bus ride to the southern city of Pakse. Our extra $2 put us in an Air Conditioned "VIP" bus and we were content with the idea of a comfy, uncrowded night. Wrong! Again, we were the only westerners on the bus packed to the brim with Lao locals. I spent the first half of the night with a guy sleeping in my lap, a little girl perched on my knee, and an incoherent woman passed out on my shoulder. This lasted until the "sleeping" man began groping my leg and I had to abruptly stop my game of Pat-a-Cake and remove his hand from my thigh. The bus driver was also very pleased with his selection of Asian pop music. Just to make sure that we all shared his joy, he turned the music up extra loud until the walls of the bus were actually vibrating. Apparently, he also only had one C.D. so we heard the same wonderful song over and over and over......I'll sing it all for you when I get home.

The bus ride was never-ending. Liz and Jen were happily sleeping in the front seats and looked quite comfortable and relaxed. I, on the other hand, kept warding off Mr. Friendly's attempts to become my new best buddy for a majority of the night. He finally gave up, bought me some Red Bull as a peace offering, and hopped off the bus at 2 a.m.
After climbing off in Pakse with blury eyes and a pounding headache, we had to catch another bus to Si Phan Don. This "bus" was basically an open pickup truck, complete with barn animals and bags of farm produce. The New Year celebration was well underway in many of the towns that we passed through. Throngs of children and grown-ups alike stood on the roadside throwing buckets of water on passing vehicles. We were completely drenched by the time we arrived at the dock. Traveling down a dirt road for four hours did little to help the situation and we were all wearing 3 inches of gray dirt.

Don Det was just a ferry ride away. We could see the small island across the river from where we stood on the dock. We had heard rave reviews about the 4000 islands, a chain of small landmasses that hugged the Lao coastline and served as a border for neighboring Cambodia. I wasn't sure what to expect when we arrived on the island but was a bit unprepared for how rugged and barren they were. Our bungalows had no electricity and no fans. Sleeping was nearly impossible, at least until the night air cooled down around 5 in the morning. Our first evening was spent swatting bugs and wandering from our huts to the docks and back again. I don't think a breeze was blowing anywhere. On the other hand, if you were in the need to escape from everything and find a very relaxing place to settle down, then the islands were the place to be.

There was talk around the island of a large festival by the waterfall the following afternoon. Which waterfall was left unsaid, but eager to mix with the locals and observe their holiday celebrations, we decided to try our luck. Many hand gesture filled conversations, awkward looks of confusion, and attempted small talk later, we were armed with a handy sketch of the presumed route. I think the guy that drew it had already consumed a bit too much Tiger wiskey or Lao beer. Who could blame the guy though? An entire bottle of the retched stuff costs only 70 US cents and there is obviously nothing for the Lao locals to do to pass the time. Nobody was ever in a hurry to do much of anything. Many times, we walked into a store or cafe and had to gently shake the owner awake in order to get service.


Anyway, I'm off the subject. Once again, we rented rickety bikes, tucked our trusty map into our packs, and set off to find X marks the spot. After arriving on the edge of town and turning right (even though the map indicated that we were to turn left which would have led straight into the river water), we spent the next hour trying to bike over rocks the size of small heads. Many spills and curses later, we arrived at the waterfall - - the wrong waterfall. Since everyone was at the "other" waterfall, we had the swimming lagoon to ourselves and were free to roam around. It turned out to be a nice afternoon apart from the bike ride and another ripped open foot.

I took my first shower by flashlight that evening. It was either that or choose to bring the tin gas lamp into the shower stall with me and I wasn't too keen on having the flame in such a small space. Too hot to sleep and no light to read by, we wandered to town and found the only bar with lights. The elderly owner kept running behind the bar to wind up the generator while we sat and sampled his wife's spring rolls. We then had a very long and detailed conversation about how to get to the proper waterfall the following afternoon where there was to be an even larger New Year celebration. The little man was so excited to be helping us that we could only nod and pretend like we understood every word of his directions. We promised to stop by in the morning before tromping back through the brush to our steamy bungalows for some attempted sleep.


We awoke in high spirits, gathered the Swedish boys from the bungalows next door, and hired a man to ferry us across the island. By ferry, I mean the smallest, most unsafe boat you can imagine where you have to sit perfectly still for fear of tipping over. I think one of the men was frantically bailing water out of the back too! Arriving on the mainland, we were a bit unsure of where to go next until we saw half of the town's population piled into pickup trucks and heading up the hill. They were all shouting at us to join them and, thus, began our celebration of Pii Mia. It was fantastic!!! We were the only white people among over 400 Lao locals who were dancing and having a wonderul time. A tradition during Pii Mia is to throw water and cover people entirely in powder so were we properly introduced and thoroughly dirty after the first 15 minutes.

The locals were so incredibly friendly. We were constantly being pulled in all directions to be introduced to new groups of people and sample their food and drinks. Nobody spoke English, but they didn't hesitate to walk up to me with half a mug of warm beer and then drag me out onto the dance floor. Jen and I tried to teach them how to spin and twirl in circles, although I think we looked pretty silly to most of the crowd. We also got about 8 marriage proposals as well before the wild, crazy, memorable afternoon was brought to an end.


It was very hard to wake up the next morning. We had to catch a bus back to the border in order to make a quick trip through Bangkok and get to Cambodia. The next 30 hours were perhaps the longest I've ever spent but I'm proud to say that we experience our own little portion of "The Amazing Race." From the ferry on Don Det, we took a truck to Pakse, then a tuk-tuk to the bus station on the other side of town, another truck and bus combination to the Lao border, and then we had to walk a mile across the actual border. On the Thai side we took a tuk-tuk to another bus station, two buses to Ubon, and another truck to the larger bus station. Half dead with exhaustion and hunger, we approached the counter, eager to hop on a bus for Bangkok and settle down for the long ride. However, hundreds of Thai's had the same idea. Silly us, deciding the travel the day after the largest public holiday in SE Asia. There were no buses. There were no trains. They were all full. Not only were they full that evening. They were full for the next four days. There was nothing available.

We were so disheartened and stricken that we just sat down in the middle of the bus station, wondering what we could possibly do next. None of us wanted to spend another minute in Ubon, but we especially didn't want to hang around for three days - not when we had made it this far.

Ta-da!!! Miracles do happen. Out of the blue, the humble bus station manager and his wife approached us, pulled some strings, and we were soon happily clutching three bus tickets for a night trip to Bangkok. We had several hours to wait so we camped out and bought some much needed food. Mr. Bus Manager also doctored my food, wrapped it with guaze and patted me on the head before loading our bags onto the bus and waving farewell. I was once again overwhelmed by the extreme kindness and helpful nature of the Lao people. We waved farewell in return and settled back into our seats. Bustling Bangkok would greet us in the morning.

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