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Published: March 1st 2009
Laos has always been one of the far away lands shrouded in a veil of mystery. Not much is ever said about the place. Other than it was the target of the American bombing campaign known as "the secret war," in which more ordinance was dropped on this sleepy country than in the entire second world war- an average of one B52 bomb load every eight minutes, 24 hours a day, for NINE years straight between 1964 and 1973. Absolutely mind boggling. I bet you didn't know that Laos is the most bombed country in the world.
Even more mind boggling is the collective attitude of the native people. Lao people are some of the warmest, friendliest, caring, and generally kind hearted people I've ever met. Everybody says hello ("Sabaidee"). Not just street hawkers, not just restaurant workers- everybody. The country as a whole has the feeling of those summer vacations at a loved one's house. The kind where you're invited inside and given a piece of candy simply because the act of pampering you makes them feel good. Yes, Laos was the biggest and best surprise of the trip thus far. A welcome and refreshing change from the breakneck
Luang Prabang:
just another UNESCO World Heritage cityspeed of Vietnam's capital. Stepping off that bus into the warm mountain air and watching that motorbike cruise by with a smiling Lao gentleman... And we waited for it... Wait... Its coming... Soon... ... ... NO HORN? No obnoxious and relentless honking? Oh yes, that panging in my head has subsided; oh yes, these people are on Lao time: no hurries and worries whatsoever.
So, that twenty hour bus ride from Hanoi?
Ha. Actually twenty four hours. Oh, a few descriptions come to mind. Prison. Torture. Hell on wheels with no air conditioning.
We knew from the first moment of contact with the bus company that it was going to be an adventure (major euphemism). Along with about eight other westerners, Meg and I were shoved to the back of the bus, where our leg room was obstructed by cinder block shaped objects lining the entire floor. Perfect. Then we noticed the locals received blankets and the miscreants in the back did not. Thanks a lot. Good looking out. Everything about this operation was shady, and my selective memory retention has done a good job of blocking out the details. But I do remember: our jerk of a driver
stole my neck pillow during a rest stop, one turn in the middle of the night felt like a Hollywood style two wheel stunt, multiple stops were made to exchange some mysterious bundles of grain or rice, and cigarette smokers and chatty cell phone users made it especially hard to catch some much needed Z's.
Finally we made it to the border... at 3 a.m.! The border doesn't open until 7! Convenient enough. Four hours of no sleep in the rock hard torture chair with no blanket in the hills of Southeast Asia. Fun indeed. We eventually proceeded through the border checkpoint with our fresh Lao visas and we were off to experience a fresh and welcoming land of wonderful surprises.
Vientiane, the capital of Laos (pronounced "Lao," without the S), was not very climactic in the usual "capital" sense. More like a big town or small city, it's nestled alongside the Mekong overlooking its big brother, Thailand. It was the perfect place for a couple days of recovery after that nightmare of a bus ride. Finally rested and recuperated, we headed out for one of the few attractions via motorbike-- the Buddha Park. After taking a wrong turn
and getting wonderfully lost among a village of rice patties and vegetable farms, it was not until a generous passer-by lent us his sympathy and cemented our positive view of the kindness of the Lao people. While struggling to compute our whereabouts on our Lonely Planet guidebook's map, a fella walking by on the dirt road muttered the comforting phrase, "Where you go? Can I help?" After sighs of relief, the man pointed us in the right direction, and we were off. I looked back and he was chuckling to himself, and rightfully so. We were only about five kilometers off the mark. Had I listened to Meg and stopped to ask for directions immediately after taking the dirt road turn, we probably could have spared ourselves the embarrassment. Oh well. I had my manhood to uphold.
The Buddha Park was a semi-comical arrangement of cement Buddha structures built in the 1950's. It was the kind of place where we found ourselves laughing and taking our infamous prop pictures, posing with the stone Buddha statues in the hot afternoon sun. It was one of those "getting there was the fun part" kind of places. Something about cruising a motorbike
on the easy going streets, in a country of easy going people, kept the smiles on our faces.
We headed North to the next stop on our trail, Vang Vieng. But for me, this four hour bus ride was almost as miserable as the hell ride a few days before. Ehh, almost.
I decided to contract a nasty stomach flu the day of the bus ride. Vomiting and more all morning. Nausea. Cold sweats. We sat at the front of the bus and everyone who boarded gave me a look like I was the freaky sick guy. Oh wait, I was. Pale and disheveled, I had Meg's dampened sarong wrapped around my head. Thirty minutes in, I filled up an improvised barf bag, and, much to the amazement of nearby passengers, had to throw it out the window. Hey, thats what you do in Asia. Luckily, a couple sitting across from us had some kind of magic pill that stopped my rebellious stomach and made everything better.
The town of Vang Vieng was far from an authentic Lao experience, but it was a great experience nonetheless. A couple square blocks of repetitively monotonous restaurants all feeding off of
the main tourist attraction... Tubing!
Oh and a side note- Karline, you would be in heaven in Vang Vieng. Every restaurant had lay-down seating facing T.V.'s playing endless seasons of "Friends." We literally chose which restaurant to eat at by seeing which season of "Friends" was playing that night. After saturating way too much of the sitcom, we found ourselves saying "You look like Ross in the one with the teeth!" Or "Quit acting like Monica in the ping pong episode!" Wow, I'm glad thats over with.
When I heard of tubing down the Nam Seung river in Laos, I thought, "Cool, float down the river, maybe there will be a rope swing hanging from a tree." What we saw was an absolute fun-fest of adrenaline quenching debauchery. Lining the shores of the river were multiple makeshift bars, where you float up to at your discretion. Every place had there own massive rope swing and zip lines, complete with jump platforms and rope operator. So much fun! We did it two days in a row, though our bodies disagreed with it.
Another windy mountain bus ride brought us to the town of Luang Prabang. Easily the most beautiful and
livable place in Laos, this charming place is a UNESCO World Heritage site for a reason. Groups of monks clad in saffron robes glide silently down the sidewalks, toward some mysterious destination. Hoards of school children play in the river after school. Temples and Wats line the streets, with glistening gold spires reflecting of the beating sun. L.P. is the type of place that makes you feel simply blessed to walk down the street, enjoying the serendipitous sites of a land unspoiled by unruly capitalism and greed which dominates the West. Even better was the waterfall we visited. Magically turquoise waters cascading through a scene of out of this world picturesque-ness, made L.P. a highlight of Laos.
Sick of bus rides for the time being, we booked a slow boat to Huy Xai, the border town neighboring Northern Thailand. Cruising up the Mekong River at mellow, and most importantly, smooth an non-dizzying pace, the trip took two days. The first night we stopped at a little village called Pakbeng. The generators turned off at 10 pm and our mosquito net bed provided the comfort of a cement block. Not to mention the blind roosters crowing at all hours of
the night. We thought it was dusk, but somebody forgot to teach the little buggers the appropriate time to "cock-a-doodle-doo" is not three in the morning.
An early start up the Mekong the next morning, we had the best seats on the boat, next to a Lao family of three generations. The father was intrigued by our camera, and when we took it out, his eyes widened and he insisted on taking pictures for us. We let him satisfy his curiosity, and two batteries later, he had browsed over 300 pictures at least four times, showing everyone in his family his favorites. It was a game of language acrobatics communicating with him and we were all laughing the whole time. We waved goodbye, and began the next leg of the journey... Thailand.
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sara Marsh
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What an adventure!!!
Wow, what an amazing adventure! It's great to see what you guys are up to. Keep 'em coming! -Sara