Northern Laos: In the jungle, the mighty jungle...

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--- I am writing this entry from Vientiane, just across the Mekong River from Thailand. I had been planning to exit Laos after their independence day on the 2nd of December and get a bus to Bangkok. For those of you not aware, for the past 6 days, protestors from the PAD have taken control of both the international and domestic airports in Bangkok, in a sense holding the country's main industry under siege. They are demanding the step-down of the PM, who they claim is a puppethead, and he has refused. The police are insisting they do not intend to use violence against the carefully organised protestor, a change of government could be on the cards, but no one knows, and each day that goes by is millions of dollars that Thailand is missing out on. Also, some 100,000 foreign tourists are stuck in Bangkok trying to get a flight home. So how does this effect my plans? Well, it means accomodation could be near impossible to find in Bangkok right now... and also, I had a friend I was meant to visit in Bangkok but I can't seem to get a hold of him? "Tom? You there? Everything OK?" hmmm... For now though, back to the jungles of Northern Laos ----

I couldn't have been more chuffed about how things came together. Less than 24 hours in Laos and I was in a tuc-tuc being driven off to the start of a 3 day jungle trek! I got to admit, for a lot of different reasons, I wasn't too sure about this trek. It sounded a bit too much like a "tour", and I am not big on that kind of thing, especially when it comes to hiking and camping. But I am a lover of the outdoors and didn't see any other way to go about it really. So I signed on. Let me just say that it is still, without a doubt, the best part of my 17 days in this country.

Really though, I didn't feel bad about the price because in this part of Laos they have an extremely good system for the trekking and "adventure" travel that is all about "Sustainable Ecotourism" in the Nam Ha NPA. What this means is that worldwide organisations (such as UNESCO etc..), the Lao Government, and the local communities have come together with the aim of providing us travelers an authentic experience, without having a negative impact on the local lifestyle and culture. It also means that for every dollar my group spent on our trek, 23% went to the organising company, 11% went to the guides and drivers, some goes to tax, and the rest goes straight to the villages we passed through, environmental organisations, and community help projects. The organising company is then careful to ensure that no area is overexposed to tourists (for instance villages will see foreigners no more than twice a week) and that the villagers and locals do not move away from their traditional trades to instead try and sell knickknacks and beerlao shirts, or just beg. All in all, it is a fantastic setup and the gov't recognises ecotourism in the north as a major source of income for the country that takes money from outside of the country and directly injects it into the poorest parts of their societies where it can be put to the greatest use.

Our main guide was Phonsak. Phonsak is 24 years old, from the northern province of Phongsali, he's been a trekking guide for about a year and a half. He takes his job seriously, but underneath an almost reverent set to his face there lurks a volcanic laugh that surprises you with its joviality, youth, and volume. This man is legend. Throughout our trek he served as guide, translator, lao language teacher, cook, hunter, bamboo beer mug and shot glass manufacturer, medic, cultural commentator, laolao distributor, and all around jungle man good guy. This man made the trek for me, and if I ever return to the north of Laos, I'm asking for Phonsak. HE put up with all our questions and hovering-about with patience and amiability, giving me an insight into Laos and lao culture that I probably would've missed otherwise given my short stay here.

The rest of the crew was Chris (austrian guy), Robin (english bloke), Martine (dutch girl), Tamara (israeli kibbutz girl), Myself, and Souk (Lao guide number 2). That made our group 7 people, plus there were 2 additional villagers at all times that changed throughout the three days. So 9 in total. I didn't think we'd see any tigers.

So about 40 minutes out of town our TucTuc pulls up to pick up Souk and water for the day, but we all piled out to check out his village. There's not much to it. On the main road there is a small shop and a little restaurant to cater to the traffic going by, and then the rest of the village was a collection of bamboo huts spaced out along a single path way. Only a handful of adults were around, most of them occupied in putting rice out to dry on large white tarpaulins. Phonsak led us down the trail though to the bottom of a hill, where we found the local school. The facilities were simple. The classrooms were also open air bamboo huts, kids were clustered around tables and all seemed to have paper and writing tools, and the 21yo teacher for about 30 of them had a simple blackboard and a pointing stick. The location of the school was beautiful. We were in a sort-of valley and so standing in the middle of the playing field one could feast their eyes on the karst cliffs jutting up on different sides, and the sunlight streaming down through palm and banana trees. The slight breeze ruffled the Laos flag from its lazy drooping position. What really made the school though was the kids.

Tamara summed it up for all of us really: "OH my god, these kids are so cute, I don't want to leave here. Can I stay here? I want to stay HERE and teach THESE kids. Can I teach here? OH god I want to adopt two, no, THREE of these kids! I'll put two of them in my backpack right now!... Hey! You! Cute little boy, you come back with me to Israel, yes?" The kids were absolutely adorable. With Martine and Tamara busy trying to coddle the children, and with robin busy with his laos phrasebook trying to talk to the teacher, Phonsak, Chris and I joined the rest of the kids on their break to play an insane game of futbol. The object of the game appeared to be to simply kick the ball as hard as you could in any direction you happened to be facing. Phonsak, CHris and I played a half-hearted game of keep away that sent 30 minirature people sprinting from one side field to the other trying to get the ball in anyway imaginable. Afterwards we were quite sweaty. The time came to say goodbye though, so after a quick exchange of "la gon"s and "sok dee"s, we checked to make sure there were no children in Tamara's pack and moved on.

Finally we were to start what would later be known for all of time as "The Green Curry Trek". Trekking is not something that is easy to write about. Lets just say that we spent the day hiking about 11 kms hiking. The trail was very cool, with some great views. We passed through lush jungle and drier forest, passing through or over many rivers and streams and only two people fell down. Near the end of the day we went off on a side trail that led to a fairly impressive waterfall. Chris and I both showered here and washed our tshirts out. Finally, as the sun was beginning to dip behind the hills, we made our first camp. The camp was a bamboo hut on stilts, mats and sleeping bags were laid out and the drappery of mozzy nets were hung up over each. Dinner was served to us while it was still light and we drank a bit of lao lao (Lao rice whiskey) and stayed up chatting after dark until our candles died out and we went to bed.

I was the first up of the falang the next day and I busied myself with hovering over the cooking of breakfast (and lunch) pointing and tasting and asking a million question. Making myself generally um... useful right? The food on the whole of this trek was FANTASTIC. It was all very definitely laos food, all prepared over a campfire. A table would be made out of banana leaves, and we would eat with our hands. Every meal came with sticky rice, basically rice that you would rip apart and then roll into a rough ball to dip into the sauce and grab up some other food. We also had Buffalo Laap (similar to kelliguen in Guam), an amazing tomato sauce, loads of vegetables, chillies, aubergine, snake beans, pumpking dishes, buffalo mushroom stew, etc... ALl of it was truly delicious but every meal we were served far more than we could eat... but we kept eating. Bamboo was used for a lot of the cooking, whether as a pot for cooking stew, to make spoons, and cups, or as sticks to barbeque buffalo on. It was great. I'm hungry now. It didn't go down well weith everyone though. Martine was ill from the night before and would not eat anything the rest of the trek, Tamara also had some stomach problems that kept her from eating for a day and a half. The name "Green Curry Trek" is not a reference to the food we ate. All us boys were fine though. We figured the laolao was protecting us. This did not make sense seeing as martine had had some the first night as well, but we used it as our excuse anyways.

Another day of hiking led us through more grassland type landscape that really reminded me of the boonies on Guam, complete with red dirt trails, winding off into the distance. That night we were joined by Anin and Anun (or something like that), two villagers from the Akha village we would be finishing our trek at the next day. Our camp for that night was another bamboo hut, left behind though from when their village used to be here until they decided to move in closer to the city. After dinner was eaten, a single candle was lit and placed in the middle of a rattan mat and all us boys circled around and the bottles of laolao came out. Anin and Anun had brough a large bottle with them, robin pulled out a hipflask that still had a bit in it, and I pulled out a half liter from my own bag. I had proffered it from the shop in the first village we had gone too, it was a strangely neon green spirit being sold out of an old bleach bottle. For less than a dollar for half a litre of %45 spirit it had to be tried! Drinking laolao has an almost ceremonial feel to it. One person is in charge of pouring. They pour themselves the first shot (into a bamboo shot glass) in order to ensure that noone else will go blind, and then they pour the next shot and pass it to the person on the left. That person says either niak(lao) or jib-a-do(akha), drinks, shakes his head in disgust and passes the glass back to the original pourer who then proceeds to pour for the entire circle.

So we sat there, in a bamboo hut, in the jungle of Northern Laos, surrounding a single red candle (made in China), drinking laolao and telling stories. Our quiet voices seemed to match the shadows playing across each others faces and mingled with the caucophony of crickets, frogs, and bugs in the jungle beyond our thin walls. We asked Phonsak many questions about the new villagers with us (whom he had not met yet either) and phonsak played translator. We found out that they were both 24, both married, and both with 2 or 3 kids each. They had been married when they 21, their wives at the time had been 14, their oldest children were both 3 years old. Robin made a joke about it being pretty much the same as England, but I marvelled at these two kids (okok so they were a little bit older than me), who were already married and with 5 kids between them, their whole lives were already set! Of course, this was the norm. It made me wonder about Phonsak, who was in his way, a rebel. Phonsak was 24 and not married, with no girlfriend. As always when I meet people from small villages like Anin and Anun, I am simply unable to comprehend the differences between my life and theirs. I come from a world of infinite possibilities and choices, often I find it difficult to be content with my life which is one of the reasons I enjoy traveling so much. They on the other hand, come from a much more predictable world with almost no choices that could drastically alter their life path, and yet they too seem to be content with their situation. I wonder what they though of me and the other foreigners that pass through their lives? I wish I could speak Lao.

We stayed up to way past Lao midnight (9pm) and finished up the lao lao before heading outside to keep warm by a fire and look up at the impressive stars before going to bed.

Our last day went by quickly. BBQ buffalo for breakfast and we were off. I hiked up ahead with anin and anun, always eager to get the miles over with when its the final day, but we didn't have far to go, only about 7km, and we soon arrived at their village.

There village was quite large, about 150 people. The noon-day sun gave the village on a hill an almost golden appeareance as the bamboo huts and the dusty ground reflected the same bright rays. Dogs, children and baby pigs ran all over the place, and an old lady dressed traditionally sat in the shade and welcomed me with a rustic "SABAI DEE" before speaking quickly and sharply with Anin and Anun (a mother in law?) We waited for the others to arrive. I took the opportunity to take picture of a 3 year old playing with a 8 inch Machete Knife. None of the little kids wore any pants, just tops and so the hours of running around and kicking up dust had given their dark legs an almost golden shine as well. At the bottom of the village some kids were doing their laundry, rubbing massive scrubbers agianst a pair of old jeans. The others arrived and we were invited into Anin's house.

The house was another bamboo shack built against the slope of the hill. Inside there was a floor of packed earth, general cooking instruments and a few of the jungle knives that they all carried with them, and also, lots of babies. The two proud young mothers were there smiling as the rolled their half naked kids around on the bamboo mats telling them to shush and go to sleep. We sat and talked for a brief time, none of us were hungry yet and so we gave our lunch to the village before saying goodbye with a round of laolao with anin and anun and leaving.

We hiked another 1 km and across a river to where our return TucTuc awaited us. ON the bumpy ride back to Namtha Phonsak brought out his big jungle knife and began to fashion shot glasses for everyone (I had made my own, but it was rubbish compared to the ones he was making) I told him in Lao "lao wang lao wang Andalai!" (careful, careful, dangerous!) but he just shrugged nonchalantly and replied "bo bin niang" (no problem).

We got back to Namtha, said our goodbyes over a cold Beerlao (the ONLY thing missing from our trek), and then Chris and I headed to the bus station to get a bus to Oudomxay. I was loving Laos. Koklailai!

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Photos

carrying supplies
On my shoulder and in my hand is "material" for making beer mugs and shotglasses out of bamboo

Me and Steve Erwin
ok ok Robin and I

Jungle Camp 1
our bamboo hut

Straight from the source...
The laolao rice whiskey i bought for less than 1USD.