Lao PDR ( Please Don't Rush)

Reclining Buddhas.






NONG KHIAW, LAOS:


I haven't really done very much since my last blog post but I figured it's about time for an update. I have been sleeping well, enjoying myself and feeling very relaxed. I think I already said as much in my last post, but Northern Laos is an excellent place to do absolutely nothing. It's strikingly beautiful and super mellow. If you can't relax here you've got a fairly serious problem. My blog post tag-line is the punchline from a joke I overheard an older American gentleman tell about "Lao PDR" not really standing for 'People's Democratic Republic' but rather 'Please Don't Rush'. I think people who have visited Laos find that joke funny because it is so apt. Those three little words manage to succinctly sum up the remarkable Lao national character. Lao has to be one of the most beautiful and unspoiled places I have ever visited but its the people here who are the real stars and it is they who make Laos the magical place that it is.

Note to self: If you ever find yourself the supreme leader of a new society and you get to pick a religion for your new nation, Theravada Buddhism is definitely the way to go. Your new society may not fare well in the face of invaders or ever become an industrial or mercantile powerhouse, but your people will be happy, easy going and will coexist peacefully among themselves and others without the need for antidepressants or anxiety medications. I haven't studied the religion but I've read Theravada Buddhism teaches people to eschew vigorous emotions and deep attachment to material things, people and places because the nature of these things are fleeting and ephemeral. The Theravada strain of Buddhism also sees working too hard as very unhealthy and discourages striving too hard for anything in life, be it love, sport or work because it only takes one away from what should be their true path in life and therefore their happiest and most harmonious existence. Lao society, which seems to be the antipode of modern American society, makes much more sense to the western mind when examined in this context. It really is different here, even the dogs are different, they never growl or even bark. This is undoubtedly a reflection of the character and the needs of their masters. The way of life and the people here are truly beautiful.

I have come to the conclusion that the remarkable national character of the Lao people is a product of both their religion and their isolation; a condition which for better or worse is rapidly changing. Laos is now definitely on the international tourist radar. The Chinese, and to a lesser extent the Vietnamese seem to have claimed Laos as their next colony. In the little myriad villages scattered across the land with no electricity (except by small petrol fueled generators) and no roads linking them to the rest of the country you see satellite dishes on the stilt houses and cell phones in the hands of all the teenagers. I think Laos at the moment must be a lot like the 1950's or 60's Thailand that you occasionally hear older Thais and well traveled souls of a certain generation speak wistfully about, but you have to wonder how much longer it can or will last.

After my last post I lingered around Nong Khiaw and did very little other than enjoy my surroundings and my fantastically comfortable room at Nong Khiaw Riverside Resort. Mostly I drank a lot of tea, did some reading, and ate antihistamines and cold medication like hot buttered popcorn. Four days later, feeling much better, I finally returned upstream and spent several days in the charming, isolated, but well touristed village of Muang Ngoi. While in Muang Ngoi I mostly continued my streak of doing little and relaxing but I managed to make friends with two nice Germans, do a little hiking or what I heard one traveler describe as "villiaging" rather than treking, I also went fishing and enjoyed a picnic with a few locals. On my last day in town I ran into the two Frenchmen with the boat I met earlier in Muang Khua and so I stayed one more day in order to join them as they traveled downstream in a traditional Lao-style river boat. I paddled two days and camped one night on the river with them before disembarking back in Nong Khiaw. They were kind enough to take me onboard for one of the most scenic stretches of the Nam Ou and the portion with the best rapids! The rapids weren't very big but still very exciting in the leaky, rickety, thirty-odd foot long skift we were piloting. It was a very nice and memorable trip indeed. Unfortunately I wasn't able to get any good shots of the rapids because my hands were needed for paddling and I was very afraid to take my camera out of my waterproof bag while in the rapids, fearing a large splash or the unexpected capsizing of the boat. I think I remarked on this already, but the waterproof bag I purchased for my trip has been super-clutch time and time again during my travels. There's no way I would have gotten onboard an old leaky wooden boat with my camera, computer and other expensive electronic gear to run rapids with two novice river pilots otherwise and what a loss that would have been!

So anyway I'm back in Nong Khiaw in my beloved room with the amazing view, occasional WiFi and the sound of the babbling river singing me to sleep at night. I mountain biked to yet another small remote village connected to Nong Khiaw by a rough trail today. As usual, the biking was good, the scenery beautiful and the villagers friendly. Maybe tomorrow I will muster the strength to leave here for Luang Prabang, or then again, maybe not.






Sai-Ba-Dee! Sai-Ba-Dee! Sai-Ba-Dee! (Eng- Hello!) Lao children are the friendliest, happiest, cutest bunch of kids I have ever met anywhere on the planet. Normally I'm not very big on children, but who wouldn't be charmed by kids as adorable as these. These little darlings came running up to me all smiles right around the boat landing in Nong Khiaw where white tourists are a very common sight. They immediately struck the pose above as soon as my camera appeared. Pound for pound Lao kids are the heavy-weight cute champs of all Southeast Asia, and I suspect maybe even the entire world.



Very typical Lao flower box immediately outside my bungalow. You see these everywhere around where I have been staying in Laos. In case you can't make out what it is, its one half of a hollowed out American bomb or UXO. Its a very practical flower box and makes a very clear statement. Despite the fact that the United States secretly carpet bombed the entire place into oblivion a generation ago, the locals seem to harbor no grudge against Americans. As I toured the country side and visited caves that sheltered the local villagers during the long days and months of nonstop aerial bombardment I couldn't stop thinking: What in the world where these poor, simple, peaceful people thinking at the time about the bombardment? Aside from the very obvious and tangible effects of a large bomb being dropped on your village, the geopolitical parameters of the conflict and why they of all people were being bombed by the rich and powerful America must have been beyond the comprehension of most Lao at the time.



My friend Hendrik enjoying the sunset at my favorite riverside restaurant in Muang Ngoi.



After the gill net is in place Lao fisherman slap bamboo poles in the water to scare the fish into the net. It makes a big splash and an even bigger noise that sounds identical to a rifle being fired into water. I have awoken more than once to this sound while in Laos. No road access or electricity in Muang Ngoi, but notice the cell tower in the background.



After the fish were caught we enjoyed a nice Lao style riverside picnic with our Muang Ngoi fisherman friend and his very able-bodied assistant. It seems the hard work in Laos is reserved for women. He did the glamorous and prestigious work of casting the nets and wielding the bamboo fish scarer, but she did the rowing, the lifting, the wood-chopping, the fire building and the cooking. Fairly typical division of labor. Guess who cleaned up and then filled the boat with firewood for the evening?



Common afternoon sight in northern Lao. Young men going out to hunt for dinner. Click on the thumbnail and check out those rifles. Positively 17th century. Those are handmade flintlock muzzle loaders and apparently every household owns at least one.



Footpath to Ba NaKhang and the only way to access the village. One and a half hour's walk from anywhere with no electricity, and no road or river access. Very little here to remind you of what century you're in.



Still life from inside my humble bungalow in Muang Ngoi. It was essentially a large dusty rattan basket with a concrete bathroom attached. I had chickens and ducks living underneath my floor which I could see and hear quite well in the mornings. Selling points included a porch, an amazing view of the river and two very comfortable hammocks.



My French friends inside their noble river craft.






My camera catches the eye of a young Lao boat crew that overtook our boat on the river.



Stephan restocks our supply of the Lao elixir of life, a home-distilled rice whiskey commonly know as 'Lao-Lao', during a village pit-stop.



Denis and Stephan fireside at our campsite on the Nam Ou. These two are wonderful people and very accomplished travelers. They positively exuded a beautiful, infectious and very French "Joie de Vivre".



Trail from Nong Khiaw to Ban Sop



Can you believe this guy actually thought he looked better in my sunglasses than me?



Ban Sop (?) village kids. They love my camera and I love the poses they come up with. I think they're copying Asian boy-band versions of hip-hop poses they've seen on TV but I'm not sure. Regardless you can't step to cute like dis yo.



END.






UPDATE: 1703 Lcl

An addendum to my earlier Huck and Pierre story. I just received word from a mutual acquaintance here in Muang Khiaw that Denis and Stephan managed to successfully sell the boat in town yesterday but then promptly had the money from their boat sale confiscated by the local authorities. (Does anyone else smell a conspiracy?) I failed to mention earlier that it was with some trouble that Denis and Stephan procured the boat for their river adventure in Muang Khua. In Lao it is forbidden for foreigners to own or rent boats for the purpose of river navigation. Apparently there were a few incidents years ago and the authorities fearing bad headlines which could squash the fledgling Lao tourism industry banned foreigners from the river without a local guide. I suspect the motivation may have been more of an effort to protect and promote local jobs, but either way its illegal for a foreigner to own a boat in Laos, and after a week of alluding the authorities Denis and Stephan finally got pinched. (After the fact no less.) So there, an end to the river adventure story of Denis and Stephan. Not only did I accompany mere adventurers on a river journey, but outlaws.