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Unusual lawn decorations
Beats a garden gnome any day... Plain of Jars
Heading down to the city of Phonsavan meant once again tackling the nauseatingly windy mountain roads of Eastern Laos. I was expecting a repeat of the miserable retching we were forced to witness on the way to Sam Neua and had my trusty bottle of Tiger Balm on hand in order to help me ward off the smell. However, miraculously enough, we somehow managed to find the only busload of iron stomachs in all of Southeast Asia. Tempering this accomplishment though, was the extremely small bladders of the residing passengers, as several times the bus was forced to come to a screeching stop at the side of the road in order to oblige their pressing bodily concerns. At one of these stops, Lee and I were surprised and entertained at the sight of both men
and women relieving themselves within sight of the bus. Although upon further reflection we admitted that we wouldn’t stray too far from the road either in this landmine-ridden country. The women here seem well-adapted to these circumstances as they all managed to accomplish their tasks without revealing an inch of skin.
The sky was beginning to turn grey with the onset
New friends...
A couple of school girls who joined us on our walk one day of another storm by the time the bus pulled away and resumed it’s winding trek down the mountain. About 10 minutes later we noticed a murmur of alarm spread through the passengers. The ticket collector began marching up and down the aisle counting and recounting heads. That’s when Lee and I noticed that the woman who was sitting in the seat in front of us was no longer there. We had driven off and left her behind at the last bathroom stop.
The bus slowed down to an uncertain stop. The woman’s young daughter was woken up and informed. Expecting a show of hysterics when she realized that her mother was no longer onboard, Lee and I were surprised when she merely shrugged her shoulders, stretched out onto the vacant seat, and went back to sleep. A brief and furious consultation took place at the head of the bus as the driver and ticket collector considered their options. Eventually though, realizing that it was impossible to turn around on these roads and apparently unwilling to suffer the necessary delay of waiting for her to find us, the bus resumed driving. It was now beginning to rain. It was 20km
Army trucks
The town is full of army paraphanalia to the nearest town and another 4 hours to our final destination. I have no idea what happened to the lady we left behind, or her daughter once we reached Phonsovan. But nobody else seemed too concerned about it, demonstrating once again that people from this country are so laidback they're practically comatose.
Phonsavan itself was a small 1-street town littered with the remnants of war. Shell casings, rusty landmines, and scrap metal decorated countless storefronts and hotel lobbies. The first thing that we did, before even checking into a guesthouse, was hightail it to the nearest restaurant in order to satisfy both of our cravings - mine for a glass of ice cold coke, and Lee’s for a hot cup of Lipton tea. I’m sure that my eyes rolled into the back of my head during that first ecstatic sip. And I was practically babbling in delight when I noticed that the menu had more then a single page of options, and that the majority of them did
not contain cabbage. I was almost too overwhelmed to decide.
After checking into a horribly musty room owned by a borderline schizophrenic Captain Jack wannabe, we decided to wander
Abu hosting a moonshine lesson...
We learned how to make moonshine whiskey as part of the tour...and since Lee refused to drink hers, I had to down 2 shots (at 10am in the morning!) through the town and discuss our plans for the following day. Along the way we were enthusiastically accosted by two young school girls who were desperate to practice their English skills. They asked whether it was ok to join us, and upon our assent, grabbed our arms and, giggling, began the usual litany of questions;
“What’s your name?”
“Where are you from?”
“Are you married?”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Why not?”
“Do you want me to find you one?”
etc etc
The girls were adorable and obviously quite studious. I learned that not only do they have their regular daytime classes, but they also have English school each night from 6-9pm. And during the summers they take extra classes in business and computer skills. And when they’re not in school or studying for school, they are helping their parents at the store. I don’t think I could have been quite so cheerful and upbeat if I faced the same daily schedule.
Our chat ended at the local MAG headquarters where Lee and I decided to watch their free screening of “Bombies”- a documentary highlighting the devastating effects of the undetonated landmines littering the countryside and
Plain of Jars
Site 2...and definitely the most scenic of them all MAG’s attempt to slowly eradicate them. It was incredibly moving, and I almost lost it when the film showed a class of young school children singing a song about how to recognize and report these deadly devices with all of the earnest composure that they would award to the national anthem.
The following day we joined a tour of the Plain of Jars. There are three main sights that have been cleared of landmines, and we decided to take a full day and visit them all. The Plain of Jars is exactly what their name suggests; fields upon fields of large and unexplained stone jars. Nobody knows why these were created or what they were used for. Theories range from the practical (built to collect rainwater due to the distance from the nearest freshwater source) to the absurd (used to store lao lao whiskey for the king of all parties). One thing I do know is that these mysterious vessels were strange and beautiful. Lao’s answer to England’s Stone hedge.
The more I see of this beautiful country the more I realize just how complex, friendly, and interesting it is. And I don’t know what’s worse - the
Hanging out
Observing the protocal and restraining myself from crawling into the jars....(apparently people do that) fact that it is often forgotten next to the glamour and sunny beaches of Thailand, or the fact that the tourists who do make it this far often only experience the artificial ambiance of the main Luang Prabang - Vang Vieng - Vientiane route. Although who knows...maybe that's for the best. At least the relative obscurity of this country means that the "Friends" and "Happy Shakes" epidemic that has hit Vang Vieng will remain contained...for now.
Signing out,
Jen
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