Leaving Laos

Well, we just arrived in Ventiane, the capitol of Laos, after a 10 hour bus ride from Luang Prabang. We decided to skip touristy Vang Vieng altogether, and we're both feeling ready to leave the country. It's been an amazing time, particularly the boat ride and the trekking experiences. The mountainous scenery here is absolutely spectacular, and the ride between Luang Prabang and Vang Vieng in particular was gorgeous.

Yesterday, our last day in Luang Prabang, I went to Kwangsi Waterfall, which has numerous drops totalling about 300 feet. Lime-gray pools of water, trees growing from the rocks, the limestone warped into strange and beautiful shapes by the flow of water. It was exactly what I needed after a few soul-searching days in Luang Prabang. After being so off the beaten path with our boat ride, the amount of tourism in L.P. was quite a culture shock. It's fortunate that the town has so much charm and I enjoyed wandering around the city's temples and along the Mekong River.

Ventiane, on the other hand, is gritty and urban, at least for Laos. It's full of strange Communist propaganda, moldy motel rooms, and eclectic but interesting cuisine (we watched a beautiful sunset while eating at a Lao-Russian place on the Mekong).

We've been debating what to do next-- either crossing into Cambodia or going down to Ko Chang in Thailand. We'll spend the day in Ventiane tomorrow and then go from there. Spending some time at the beach is sounding appealing to both of us.

More on the Boat Ride

When we were floating down the Mekong River yesterday, we almost passed up Luang Prabang altogether. Full of literary allusions and stories of old explorers, we expected to see the golden spire of Wat Chieng Meng and alight on the tip of the peninsula that forms the city. But by our fourth day on the river, and lots of paddling, we'd decided to have a few drinks of Laolao to celebrate finishing our trip. Our boat made pinwheels on the mighty Mekong, swaying in the current. We passed many golden spires before paddling hard through the current to shore, only to find ourselves to far downstream. We had to paddle against the current to dock against one of the Mekong freighters.

It was a fitting way to end our journey in a boat named "Seeker" in Sanskrit. Back in Nong Khiaw, we used Zander's knife to carve out the symbol and then christened it with a spray of Laolao.

Our boat was long, narrow and swift, and apparently a hot item now that the big rains are about to come. The fishing is going to get good and everyone wanted to buy our boat. Nobody could understand why two crazy farang would buy a fishing boat and take four days to paddle to Luang Prabang when we could have made the bus ride in 8 hours.

Our first day on the river, a motorboat pulled alongside us and an energetic young schoolteacher named Cham boarded our boat and insisted that we stay in his village. The people who live along the river are naturals at boating and fishing, and Cham could paddle faster with his sandals than we could with our oars.

My memories of that first night in his village: the game of takraw outlined in the dirt between bamboo huts, Cham's parents crouched by the cooking fire, twenty schoolkids and adults huddled by the light of a small kerosene lamp examining our pictures. We ate Lao family-style with Cham, his parents and his older brother. Bamboo soup, spicy jeow, sticky rice, boiled chicken and fried water buffalo, a real treat. Afterwards, a half dozen men stopped by to partake in the Laolao.

Our friend Marco in Nong Khiaw had strongly encouraged us to take the Laolao, and now I realize that it acts as a strong social lubricator. We all took our customary two shots, and afterwards, Cham took us by the local cinemas.

In a town this small, where very few people have electricity, there are three 'cinemas', houses with TVs where villagers pay a 500 kip (5 cent) entry fee to watch television.

The voices of Cham's family lulled me to sleep under the mosquito netting. I woke up in the witching hours needing to pee and found myself bewildered by the bamboo bars holding the front door shut. I finally managed to stumble out to a tree and then back to bed. For many, the undergrowth near the river is the local toilet.

Our first two nights on the river were homestays and it was a great way to stay with families and learn a little of the language. We've been incredibly fortunate to get off the beaten path in this way. It's very strange to be in Luang Prabang now. As beautiful as it is, even in low season all of the restaurants on the main street are full of farang and so are all the internet cafes.

Boating down to Luang Prabang

Sorry to be so long in updating. I haven't been anywhere near internet in almost two weeks. Zander and I just arrived in Luang Prabang this afternoon. Four days ago, we bought a wooden fishing boat in Nong Khiaw, a little village about 120 km. upstream from here. The last four days we've been paddling down the Naam Ou and the Mekong River to Luang Prabang. It was an absolutely amazing trip. An American expat friend we made in Nong Khiaw helped us with the logistics, including a letter in Laotian to take to the village chief of the towns we stopped in. We had some amazing homestays as a result and Zander and I have both managed to pick up a little bit more Lao.

We spent about five days total in Nong Khiaw and another small town about one hour upstream by boat (there's no road there). The villages are surrounded by beautiful limestone karst cliffs and forests. We visited caves near both towns, including one that the Americans bombed heavily during the Vietnam War. We've been learning a lot about the Secret War, which happened parallel to the Vietnam War but remained highly confidential until recently. The American government actually dropped many more bombs on Laos than they did on Vietnam.

As for the boat ride, I wish I could go into more detail now but I'm way too tired. Suffice to say we began the journey with little more than pineapples, dried water buffalo meat, and a few plastic bottles of moonshine Laolao whiskey in the way of supplies, and we made it down here in one piece.

Reading Material and other thoughts about Burma

Well, we're in Luang Nam Tha right now and it's a very very sleepy town. Nice to have a full meal, though, an actual shower, etc.

Speaking of food, the meals trekking were amazing. We ate traditional Khmu and Akha meals. Sticky rice wrapped in banana leaves, delicous broths, ferns and fresh greens gathered from the forest.

But the purpose of this posting is to mention reading material and a few more thoughts on Burma.

I just finished up Peter Carey's "My Life as a Fake". It's a very inventive and well-written book that takes place in Australia and Malaysia. It's already influencing the way I think about incorporating my travel experiences into writing.

Secondly, I'm reading "Secret Histories: Finding George Orwell in a Burmese Teashop", which Zander just finished. It's an incredible book and it's given us further insights into the nature of one of worst dictatorships on the face of the planet.

I mentioned in an earlier posting that I now believe that westerners should visit Burma despite the atrocious government policy. The reason is very simple. Before we visited Kyaingtong, we knew little about the situation and had nothing more than a simple curiosity about visiting. Now we're both very interested in the current political situation and want to learn more.

This is the penalty for saying anything detrimental about the government to a foreigner:

7 years in prison and possible torture.

All the same, there we had several opportunities to talk with Burmese in coded language about the Burmese government. These were not topics that we bought up ourselves. The Burmese people are so weary and discouraged by their government that they look at western tourists as a ray of hope.

I'll never forget being in a Burmese tea shop, waiting for a friend to write down a simple question that he would not dare voice. An informant came into the tea shop and as a result he became frightened and we all left shortly thereafter. This friend knew all the informants in town.

I'll never forget that we couldn't even explain that the United States has a president, a congress, and a house of representatives. Even that could get our friends in trouble.

I also won't forget a friend telling us that he believed it was good for foreigners to visit. He viewed it as one of the only catalysts for change.

I highly recommend reading "Secret Histories", and also learning more about the current situation in Burma. It is every bit as terrible and important an issue as Tibet.

Trekking in the Luang Nam Tha NPA

While we were in the Vieng Poukha area, we did three days of trekking. The first day was a daytrip while the second and third days included backpacking and an overnight in an Akha village.

Our trekking was in the Luang Nam Tha NPA, which is a fairly recent development conservation-wise and just opened up to trekking a few years ago. On our first day, we hiked through old-growth rainforest and visited Kaorao Cave. We had local guides who showed us different medicinal plants-- one with roots good for treating malaria, another to make pregnant women stronger. According to a Khmu myth, one plant, which is highly poisonous, was once used as a poultice for the python's venom. As a result of its potency, the python lost its poison and the plant became poisonous in its place. During the day, we visited three caves and climbed over stunning limestone formations, picking leeches off our toes and hiking around huge strangler figs.

Kaorao Cave is so named because once three men went into the cave, and only Kaorao came back alive. It's said that a spirit haunts the cave-- this spirit has the ability to make one lose their sense of direction. As a result, we knelt before a small altar at the entrance and our guides said prayers to this spirit. We hiked several kilometers into the cathedral-like cave. It was full of fantastic stalactites and in places the walls shone with quartz. Bats flapped around overhead and there were strange bugs that lived in complete darkness.

As wonderful as our first day was, the second and third day were absolutely amazing. We hiked along an Akha footpath into the Luang Nam Tha NPA. These aren't well-designed trails like in the U.S. They go directly from Point A to Point B, and involve many steep ascents and descents. Since the rainy season is just beginning, we were slipping and sliding in the mud.

Over the three days of trekking, I had about a dozen leeches. More than once I'd find my sock soaked with blood or an oozing wound on my foot. In fact, on the third day, Akha villagers prepared a pungent poison which we'd paint on the leaches as they crawled eagerly towards us.

We spent the night in an Akha village high in the hills. The setting was absolutely beautiful. We were treated to a sizable amount of Akha moonshine, which it is considered impolite to refuse. This resulted in having shots of whiskey with the blacksmith at 7 am on our third day. One of my concerns about trekking is the gradual erosion of hill tribe culture, and I was worried that we might be contributing to alcoholism in the villages. Unfortunately, many hill tribesmen drink a considerable amount regardless.

I spent a lot of time thinking about the effects of conservation versus ecotourism, as well as the balance between culture and environment. The NPA is a patchwork of untouched forest and swidden fields (slash and burn agriculture). As a result of becoming an NPA, the slash and burn is being phased out, resulting in a major cultural change for hill tribes. Ecotourism is a potentially sustainable way to conserve the area and also pay the bills, but I wonder how positive our presence really is in these nearly "untouched" villages.

All the same, we both enjoyed both the cultural and natural aspects of the trip. Whether it was getting caught in a downpour, sweating profusely, or bathing in the same stream as Akha women, it truly felt like a rainforest. We forded rivers, heard the distinctive woodpecker-like sound of the 'tilok', and learned about many different species of mushrooms such as the aptly named 'dog penis'. Most of all, it was a small opportunity to see into a very different way of life. The trail was gruelling, and I can only imagine what it's like in the height of the rainy season. Akha women hike these trails everyday, often walking 30 kilometers or more into town with heavy baskets on their backs.

Vieng Poukha

It's been four (or five?) days since arriving in Laos and the pace of life is very different here. It's so slow that I feel like a crazy New Yorker in comparison. The sense of time is completely different, and I'm slowly adjusting to the more relaxed pace.

We spent a lazy day in Huay Xai on the border before heading up to Vieng Poukha, a tiny town about halfway between the border and Luang Nam Tha in northern Laos. This town is barely a blip on the map, even in Laos. It's on what will someday become a major highway connecting China, Thailand and Laos, but for the time being it's a slurry of mud and a complete environmental nightmare. Considering that the Luang Nam Tha National Protected Area borders this soon-to-be highway, the issue of conservation and land management is very important. In addition to numerous hill tribes, the protected area is also home to black soprano gibbons, the most endangered species of monkey in the world.

In Vieng Poukha, we stayed in a trucker guesthouse with no electricity. Our shower was an outhouse with a faucet and a metal bowl. Nobody speaks English, with the exception of a few guides at the Ecotourism project here, and their English was not so good either.

We stopped in Vieng Poukha because we'd heard about this E.U. sponsored ecotourism project. Unlike the touristy and unsustainable trekking opportunities in northern Thailand, this one seemed much better.

A little more on Kyaingtong

After a week in Kyaingtong, the dusty road between Harry's Guesthouse and the Independence Monument seemed like a route I had walked for my entire life. There was the Shan Church and the stands selling noodle soup. There was the monastery where we played takraw every other day, the court marked out in the sand, the monks bumming cigarettes even though they're not supposed to. Due to the largesse of one of the monks, I ate my first insect a few days ago-- a large salty locust. My head still hurts from whacking the rattan ball with my head.

Further down the road there is a beautiful temple in the middle of a traffic roundabout. Like many of the wats, it is painted red and painted golden with decorations of Burmese dragons and the Buddha's life. Nearby, there is also the monstrous Kyaingtong New Hotel. The government knocked down a historical palace to build this hotel, and fortunately, it doesn't appear to be doing much business.

It's not much further down the street to a row of sewing shops and tea shops. The taxi drivers sit on their scooters and Burmese men watch violent American movies at the tea house next to the taxi stand. Across the street is one of our favorite places-- a sweets shop run by a Nepali couple with four kids. This was where we went for cold yogurt drinks, baked goods and rotis with curry.

Continue on the road and you reach the Independence Monument (how ironic), and further down, the marketplace. Turn right and you reach the lake and high on a hill above you see the Standing Buddha, which is lit at night. Our first evening here I almost mistook its face for the moon.

At ten pm this is what you see from a high place in town-- the stars, because there is no light pollution, the lit golden stupa at the town's center, the radio towers, the standing Buddha, the police station, perhaps the homes of a few affluent families with generators.

On three separate days we headed north out of town. We can't go south because there's a military checkpoint. For a week, we didn't have our passports, just a pink piece of cardboard with our pictures on it.

We can go north ten miles out of town and that's it. There are many dirt roads leading to the hills, the rice paddies, and tribal villages. On one day we went up to Dragon Hill where a rather eccentric hermit monk lives only on fruit, water and boxes of Lactasoy. There's an astouding view of the valley below.

If we were to walk a day further up that ridge, we would reach Wa territory and risk being shot.

From Dragon Hill you can see some of the villages in the woods below-- the Shan village, the Lahu village with its ancient looking church. Further up in the hills there are Akha villages. In one we were treated to bitter mushroom tea, fresh papaya and lumps of animal fat.

On our third day in town, we were walking to an Akha village just outside the Kyaingtong gates. There was a half-built temple surrounded by scaffolding, and a monk hailed us from the grounds. This man was the Venerable Nyanavara, and in the mornings we meditated with him and he taught us about the five precepts of Buddhism and other principles.

Our first three days in town we didn't see any other westerners. Altogether, we saw about a dozen westerners during our entire week.

Here's a little story about why we wanted to go to Kyaingtong. In Nan, I met a New Zealander named Rob who had just come back from Myanmar. Rob had also visited Luang Prabang ten years ago.

Nowadays, Luang Prabang is full of tourists. It's on the beaten path through Laos. Ten years ago, though, Rob sat in the back of a lorry with three other westerners to brave the rugged dirt road from Vientiane to Luang Prabang. There were two machine-gunners in the truck because of Hmong rebels in the hills.

He reached Luang Prabang and he was in awe of this ancient town (now a UNESCO site). It was, at that time, still untouched by the west.

Rob said that Kyaingtong gave him the same feeling that Luang Prabang gave him ten years ago. Now I have a sense of what he meant, and I feel both honored and very lucky to have spent the last week there.

Kyaingtong

Kyaingtong was absolutely amazing. We weren't sure how much time we'd spend there, but we loved it so much that we ended up spending seven full days there, and nine days in Myanmar altogether.

I don't even know where to begin, and since we are catching a bus to Chiang Kong and the Laotian border this afternoon, I'll have to keep it short.

The city is full of wats and crumbling colonial architecture. There is only electricity from 6 to 10 pm, and even then, many of the shops and windows are lit with candles in the evenings. The people are incredibly friendly and we made some wonderful contacts. There was a teacher from a nearby village who took us to a Lahu village where he had once taught. There was a monastery where we played takraw (basically a cross between hackysack and volleyball with a rattan ball). There was the Venerable Nyanavara, a Buddhist monk with which we have meditated the last five days. There was the Nepali sweets shop where we went almost everyday.

Unlike Thailand, which is very westernized, Myanmar is much more undeveloped. It's also very poor due to the policies of the current government. For the most part, we didn't talk politics because the punishment is severe for the Burmese if they are caught. However, we did get the opportunity to have some talks bordering on this subject, and they've quelled any reservations I once had about visiting Myanmar.

I will try to write more about Kyaingtong in a future post, and will also try to upload some pictures. For the time being, though, I'm still overwhelmed by all the things we experienced. I'm also feeling more culture shock at returning to Mae Sai than I did flying into Bangkok from the U.S. Kyaingtong is an altogether different world.