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I have wanted to see Luang Prabang since before it was listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Having heard not so great stories from travellers about the border crossings from Viet Nam, I opted to fly in. Arriving at night is not my favorite time to first see a place, but I must say, the sight of the lit-up golden temple on top of the mountain in the center of town was spectacular.
Lesson number 1 for the day: When entering a new country, do not forget your visa photos in your checked luggage.
I told the agent, "The photos are in the next room," pointing to my backpack which I could clearly see.
He paused, looked at me for a good ten seconds and asked me, " Do you have a dollar bill?"
"Well, yes," as I pulled out the last remaining one dollar bill I had.
He smiled, and said, pointing directly to the bill, "You look like George."
And so much for my visa photo. I'm just hoping that I don't wind up green with wooden teeth.
I was really looking forward to the night market. They close off the main street, and people
bring food and handicrafts and set up tents for eating and shopping. I put my bag in my room, locked it, and left immediately, understanding that there is a curfew at 11:30. I wasn't worried, since I knew the market would close before that.
Lesson number 2 for the day: When you arrive at night, walk to your new hotel exactly the way you came, even if you know there is a short cut.
This story could go on for the hour that it took me to find the guest house. Needless to say, I did not arrive before curfew. Only because the hostess took pity on me, did I not have to sleep on the street.
One of the unigue rituals in LP is the "feeding of the monks" at 6 AM every morning. The city is filled with wats (Buddhist monasteries), and the tradition is for the monks to walk in their neighborhood with their food baskets. The faithful bring rice, or sometimes friut, which they offer to each passing monk. It is a really simple ritual, but so humbling to see...the safron robes hiding the red rice baskets, the lids coming off the baskets,
a small dollop of rice dropped in the basket by people on their knees, and the lid closing disappearing back under the robes...and all done silently so you hear the monk's bare feet with each step. Somehow it seemed wrong to photograph it.
When I hear the word monk, I think of Catholic reclusive hermits taking vows of silence. It took me a few days to realize that the Buddhist view of monk is quite different. The first clue was seeing a monk with a cell phone.........photographing a Buddha. Second clue was how many of them actually initiated conversations in English. Then a couple of students who were working at a shop decided they needed to take me to a local Lao restaurant. Which led to a few beers, which led to going to the local disco (a whole story in itself). One of them finally told me that most of the young men at some time spend a year or two in a monastery--often an alternative to going to the army. He himself had been a monk for three years, and was just finishing up his bachelor's degree in English, planning to go back to his village to
teach English.
Had a great afternoon at the Kuangsi Falls. There is a high level of carbonate from the limestone cliffs, so terraces have formed and created great swimming holes. Did a hike up to the top and unknowingly chose the hard way, and managed to be completely soaked by the time I got halfway up. But it is a really great place to beat the afternoon heat of the Mekong Valley.
I was lucky to run into a textile collector from Santa Fe at the night market the second night. She was there buying for her moonlighting job (school teacher by profession) as a dealer in minority group clothing. It is great to get on the spot info about the things you are looking at from an expert--what's really good, what's OK and what is "made for the tourist". It made me wonder what things were really like about 15 years ago, before the whole world found Luang Prabang.
The ride to Vientiane had spectacular mountain range crossings. It made me wish for more time to explore other areas, once I realized how mountainous the whole country is. Starting in LP, the whole time I kept thinking how much the look of the villages and the life reminded me of living in West Africa. The land cover is not as dense, and I did not see mud houses. But watching the street life, and the newer houses with tin roofs, and the batheing in the streams, and fresh markets, and the great street food...I sort of felt like I had gone back to a country I already knew. Even Vientiane has a feel of Monrovia...things falling apart...small buildings for a capital city...everyone very laid back...rain at 4 PM for 30 minutes, then sunshine. This is a place I could easily get seduced into staying for a while. Only because I am starting to get short on time did I book a ticket to Bangkok.
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