Advertisement
Published: December 10th 2005
Edit Blog Post
There must be a word to describe the desire we feel for a place we have never been and only realize once we arrive. For our purposes this word is Laos. Laos was, if you’ll excuse a bit of shameless gushing reflection, love at first sight.
Our journey into the country began with a two day (300 km) boat ride down the mighty Mekong, a slow moving cappuccino colored river that winds it way through Laos. The scenery made the long ride pass quickly; we were surrounded on all sides by luscious fertile forests interrupted only by rocky peaks and small villages. Stopping at the villages to load and unload cargo, animals, and people we had our first glimpse into the lives of the Lao people. Young children playing in the water, some with nets and spears looking for fish and bamboo thatch homes built on stilts along the riverside flanked by small gardens planted in the sandy soil. The combination of amazing natural surroundings and the open, friendly nature of the people was impossible to not be captivated by.
Our first night in Laos was spent in the small port town of Pakbeng. Electricity was down for the
evening and after a candlelit dinner we headed to bed. Our lodging had looked dubious when we’d first arrived, and it wasn’t looking any better now that it was cast in ominous candlelit shadows. The room, which had cost roughly 30,000 kip (or $3 dollars) was overpriced for what it was (or wasn’t). Through the floorboards we could see the rooms below and above us we could here the scuffling of tiny feet. Options for hotels had been limited and we thought, hey, it is only one night, how bad could it possibly be?
Once in the quiet darkness somewhere in the village chanting began. Drumming sounding like banging on kitchen pots joined in, slightly offbeat with the chanting. We’d been told that sacrificial rituals, described like the one we were hearing were often performed at night when someone falls ill. The only thing that was missing was the sacrifice. As if on cue, the squeal began. It reached a crescendo and then there was silence as the chanting and drumming died down. The renewed quiet brought relief only for a minute, until we realized we could once again hear the sound of small feet running.
Disturbed, but
not defeated, we started to drift off. Cruel fate was still awake however and a scream (my scream) soon woke us both up out of our half sleep, followed by one of the most memorable conversations of our trip:
T: Holy $#%@, Holy #@%^!!!
L: What ? (half asleep)
T: (Silence)
L: What happened?
T: I can’t believe it oh my god...
L: Tell me dammit, I’m tired.
T: There was something on my face.
L: What was it?...noooo....
T: (Silence)
The rest of the dialougue involved more screaming, cursing and other stages of shock and disgust, so we’ve edited it out for length purposes. However, we will never forget the night we spent in the town we (and all our traveling companions - yes, they had run-ins too) now refer to unlovingly as Rat Town.
Though, as they say, love is often blind and one bad night was not enough to taint our experience in Laos. Our boat arrived the next day in Luang Prabang, a quaint city that was declared a UNESCO world heritage sight 10 years ago, largely for the many Wats (religious temples) that remain in the area. To recognize the anniversary of
Sunset over the Mekong
Sunset during our boat trip into Laos.
Photo courtesy of Robin Esrock. the UNESCO status the town held a parade, by chance while we were there. The Laotians take their parades very seriously. Most of the shops were shut and those that weren’t in the parade were lining the streets watching and dancing for hours.
The following day we walked around the town to some of the Wats around Luang Prabang. What we saw were only the ones that had survived the intensive bombing that had been dubbed the “secret war”, waged against Laos between 1964 and 1973. During this time the US dropped more than 500,000 loads of bombs; 300,000 tons of bombs alone fell on the province of Xieng Khouang, which works out to an average of two tons of bombs for each Laotian. Who knew that this quiet peaceful country of Laos had been on the receiving end of the heaviest bombing in the history of warfare? Not us, so we could only assume that we'd missed that day in history class.
Needing to confirm that we were the only completely ignorant travelers floating around Laos we asked the diverse and educated group we were traveling with at the time. But, like us, not one of them
had known before coming to Laos the details or degree of this “secret war”.
Being one of the most impoverished countries of the world (and the poorest in southeast Asia with an average income of less than $1/day) we were already amazed by the generosity and richness of the people that we had met in Laos. Now, becoming aware of small details of the violent history the people had endured made their approach to life seem even more unreal and incredible.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.066s; Tpl: 0.011s; cc: 8; qc: 56; dbt: 0.0429s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
terry moro
non-member comment
simple life
this is good example of how little we need to enjoy life. It is to bad we are stuck with not caring for the people that should mean the most to us.life can be very easy and good if you mix a little love and caring in with it. take care thinking about you guys, and our prays are with you.