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Published: November 6th 2008
Laos is the red-headed stepchild of Southeast Asia, forgotten and overshadowed by its illustrious neighbors. Not, that this is Laos' fault. When you share borders with such a lineup of famous (and sometimes notorious) countries, it's easy to be overlooked. Laos lacks anything that would put it on the international map (not literally of course. It's on an actual map, it's the one that looks like it's spooning with Vietnam. Like me it prefers to be the little spoon). Thailand has its beaches, Vietnam has its war, Cambodia has its history and China has, well, the fact that it's freakin China. Laos is Ringo, the fat Baldwin, Christian Laettner on the dream team, and Joe the plumber's brother Greg the podiatrist. It is surrounded by greatness and glory-hogs in every direction and unable to wrestle the spotlight on itself even for the briefest of moments. A telling example of this is that even within the Laos borders, there is heated debate amongst travelers regarding how to even pronounce the name of country they're in (for the record it's Low, like the Raiders sure are lowsy this year). Laos is a place of mystery and confusion. I intend to keep it that
way. Laos rules and i don't want you all going there and fucking it all up with your resorts and your holiday packages and your waterless hand sanitizer. I don't want Laos to be discovered. Laos is a virgin amongst whores and I don't want her defiled by that creepy guy behind the bowling alley with a pencil mustache and Motley Crue jacket who calls himself Snake, but who's real name is Western Consumerism. I want things to stay just the way they are. The following is a collection of Laos facts that I may or may not have made up to make the country seems unappealing: 1. The traditional Laos greeting is a firm headbutt to the gonads (elbow thrust to the ovaries for women). 2. A staple Laos dish is deep fried monkey nipple. 3. While Indians use their left hand to wipe themselves after defecating, Laos people use YOUR left hand. 4. Laos recently elected their new Prime Minister, a nintendo gameboy that runs tetris constantly. Population density is at an all-time high. 5. Laos would happily mess with Texas. 6. Laos people love David Hasselhoff.
Turned off yet? Good. Now that all those just browsing
Super cool waterfall effect
which i totally did on purposethe sight have written Laos off as a destination, I can tell you the real message of this blog: You gotta go to Laos. It's so rare to find a country with such a raw and uncompromised culture that manages to offer the comfort and infrastructure that usually only exists in more saccharin destinations. The Laos people are heavy contenders in my nicest-people-on-the-planet slugfest. To find such genuine warmth and reverence from a country that has struggled so much always makes me feel like we in the western world are a bunch of spoiled whiners. Everywhere in this region has its battle scars, but Laos may have been on the receiving end of some of the worst haymakers. After it became occupied by the North Vietnamese communist force, Laos became an innocent bystander in the all-time top-ten shitshow that was the Vietnam war. Since all of its forces were entrenched to defend the south of Vietnam, the US military decided to employ its time-tested tactic of the arbitrary carpet bomb across the Laos landscape. By the end of the war, Laos had garnered the unfortunate distinction of most heavily bombed country in the history of the planet. There was a
Jenny astride San
yes this is the same girl who was afraid of elevators at 5. plaque and a trophy, but they were blown up. Laos was under a trade embargo with the United States until 2004. That's 30 years of having the biggest importer in Asia refuse to do business with you. Ask yourself what China would look like without the ability to send goods to the US. The Olympic stadium would have been an actual bird's nest. The fact of the matter with Laos is this: the roads suck, the economy is crap, their currency is the weakest I've ever spent (10,000 kip to the dollar), and their locked outside of one of the biggest spending parties in the history of tourism. You'd expect the people reflect their nation's troubled circumstances, but that is simply not the case. What you find is a nation of WalMart greeters. Nearly every person you pass has a sparkling smile to share. Instead of having to sneak peeks at a cute Laos baby from across the street, the parents will notice your stares and bring the kid over to do a pop-and-lock routine with a few light b-boy kicks (I might be exaggerating). Since the assault of commercialism has as of yet ignored to Laos people, they haven't
Spectacular Waterfall
outside Luang Prabang been bombarded with western notions of what the ideal life should look like. They're perfectly happy without McDonalds, Google, and Paris Hilton. In this case ignorance truly is bliss. Laos has had just the right amount of outside influence. The French occupied the territory just long enough to give them a taste for beautiful architecture and fresh baguettes, but vacated swiftly enough to leave the culture intact. Today the French influence manifests itself in the subtlest of stylistic ways, like a vacated party guest who's left only a waft of cigarette smoke dancing in the light, adding drama to an otherwise empty room.
Take the capital for example. We arrived in Vientiane after a hellish stretch of travel. We left Siem Reap early morning and traveled through Thailand nearly reaching the Laos border at Nong Khai in one day (anyone familiar with the region just said "damn") We crossed into Vientiane with absolutely no idea what to expect from the whole country, let alone just one city. We certainly could not have expected what we found. Vientiane is a modern, lively, Mediterranean style city with a bounce and sex appeal usually reserved for Latin America. This image was of
course enhanced by the fact that we arrived on the day of the Laos boat-racing festival, the biggest holiday of the year which marks the end of the rainy season (needless to say it totally pissed rain the next day, mother nature can be a c-word sometimes). The spectacle of seeing what had to be the entire population of Laos rage by the Mekong was almost outdone by the eerie air left the following day as all the Ferris wheels and party booths sat silently on abandoned streets in the vacated capital. I was ready for zombies, I know the signs.
We left Vientiane with bellies full of Scandinavian pastries and hearts filled with joy (and cholesterol). Our next stop was backpacker haven Luang Prabang (don't try to figure out how to pronounce that for too long, or blood will shoot out of your nose). Hitting the streets of this sleepy little town, i was forced to ask "Are their any Laos people here?" Everyone I saw was a young, western backpacker. Normally this is the death-blow for a destination as it turns from cultural wonderland to insufferable frat party. Things were different here though. Surprisingly everyone was cool.
The mandatory three days of arduous travel in every direction to get here acts as a filter to weed out all the unsightly characters that we spend so much time avoiding. The cream rises, so to speak, and the rest of the riff-raff plummet southward towards Ko Phangnan for their Full Moon parties and venereal diseases. Luang prabang is a magical place. Less surrounded by jungle, more carved out of it. It sits on a peninsula where it's sandwiched on either side by mighty, muddy rivers. Not having to deal with the typical douchebags that give backpackers a bad name, the local populace has embraced their visitors with gusto. The result is town of two streets lined with great cafes, lively bars and probably the best night market in South East Asia (Jenny peed her pants, then bought four new pairs). Luang Prabang also served as the gateway to some truly once-in-a-lifetime experiences. After reuniting with almost all of our Yangshuo crew, we all spent our days trekking up incredible waterfalls before leaping off of them. There was also the world's most disappointing cave. Heralded as breathtaking in the Lonely Planet, one is assured that the torturous and expensive journey
People kept praying to the Buddah statue below him
but muffins liked to think that a little of the worship was for him will be rewarded by viewing the most comprehensive collection of Buddah statues in the region. In reality, the the vibe is less Shangra La, more garage sale and it seemed like all the early birds had already scooped up the good merch. I was so blown away by the experience that i threw up, twice. That was the beginning of two days of sickness that were mercifully broken up by an HBO Mark Walberg marathon. Someday i'll be part of the Funky Bunch.
The undisputed highlight of our Laos experience was undoubtedly our elephant ride. After spending months in Africa fleeing at the sight of any of these massive, vengeful behemoths. We were able to get a much more intimate and engaging experience here in Luang Prabang. Asian elephants are significantly smaller and more docile than their ornery African older brothers. While some camps may have atrocious ethical standards and force the elephants to do tricks like skip rope and play basketball, our camp used all elephants that were rescued from logging companies and the only thing they have to do is walk through the forest while taking the most massive shits one can possibly imagine. You could really
On top of a two ton beast
now i know how Steadman feels see the bond between our guide Pan and our elephant San as we paraded through the jungle and river. We spent most of the time sitting on a bench that had been placed on San's back but we each took a turn hopping to the front of the mighty beast and riding on his head. Truly an awesome experience. The trip ended with some feeding time, handing bananas to the elephant's trunks and watching them devour them like individual rice crispies.
We finally had to drag ourselves out of Luang Prabang, but at least we got to do so in dramatic fashion. Since the road system is so pathetic, the most efficient way to head west towards our eventual destination of Chang Mai, Thailand is by riverboat up the mighty Mekong. The sense of calm and isolation as we putted our way through emerald peaks garnished with mist would be enough to entertain even the most hyperactive traveler for several hours. Unfortunately, the trip take three days. Boredom aside, we were fortunate to have some fellow backpackers with us and split the hours playing copious amounts of cards and arguing incessantly about the differences between England, Scotland and Ireland
Yes
Another ridiculous waterfall (get over it fellas, you're not that different. My state is twice as big as all your countries combined. You're all white, pale, love beer and have a pension for vestigial monarchies. It's all same same).
Usually this is the spot where i tell you that all the travel and struggle were overshadowed ten-fold by the majesty of our destination. Unfortunately that is simply not the case. I'd love to lie to you (believe me, i do it all the time) and laud this destination for the culture that you're supposed to experience, but i just don't have the energy after typing so damn much. Chang Mai kinda sucks. Everything that one can do in Chang Mai, can be done in Luang Prabang for a nearly identical experience. The difference is that instead of returning to an enchanting little riverside hideaway, you come back to a dirty, hectic city of 1.5 million people. The one saving grace of our time in Chang Mai was my day white-water rafting. Jenny elected for a cooking course in Thai cuisine instead (i told her to ask if they had a vacuuming seminar as well, I'm molding the perfect woman here). In Thailand,
Kelly and Damien make another cameo
We had to change this Tuk-Tuk's tire after it blew. Damien did most the work. God love em thrills are not hampered by that pesky thing called safety that holds them back in other places. Frankly, our tour operators had no regard for human life. This was perfectly exemplified by my boat captain, who introduced himself thusly "My name Tho. Tho Crazy." The man was certainly not a liar. He proceeded to take our boat (dubbed Buoyant George) on the single most dangerously ill-advised route down every rapid. This included intentionally hitting rocks at full speed, throwing tourists from rival boats into the rushing river and one occasion in which he sent us down a class 4 rapid BACKWARDS! The adrenaline pumps so much harder when you're legitimately scared for your life. Fortunately the only one hurt by Tho was Tho. He was tossed from our boat and played snooker with the rocks as we scrambled to rescue him from the drink. We pulled him out of the water with a pair of broken ribs and what appeared to be a dislocated ankle. Tho laughed manically the whole time. Tho crazy.
So we're finished with culture for a while. I don't want to learn a damn thing about any more societies. Next up, we're going to indulge
Laos is beautiful
no matter how you pronounce it our favorite sins on the Thai peninsula's hedonistic west coast. (Don't worry mom's. We'll be good. The favorite sins we refer to are those totally tame ones. Jenny's is of course sloth. Lately I've been leaning towards Vanity, but I'm currently in a Wrathy sort of mood.)
By the way, Laos' religion contains only one commandment: Thou shalt not not pummel tourists with elephant dung. Amen.
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"Jenny peed her pants, then bought four new pairs" HAHHA! Wow I really do want to go to Laos now. Might have to include it in the spring itinerary.