Saturday, February 20, 2010

North?

Our plans to volunteer in Vieng Vian, 6 hours south of Luang Prabang, were falling apart. Having no reply from our destination, an organic mulerry farm and school, we decided to scrap our plans to spend two weeks there and head north. But how far? For two days in Luang Prabang, our plans changed constantly.

One hour north on the Mekong is joined by the Nam Ou river. This river flows from the northern most reaches of Laos, and is (usually) passable by boat most of the year. We decided to head up the river, and turn around when we felt like it. Some may think us crazy to get on another boat, but don't worry: this one was smaller and less comfortable!

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With 8 other travelers on board, we headed back up the Mekong, turning onto the Nam Ou. 30 more minutes upstream we head our first problem. The river was two shallow, so we had to get out and push! Most of you will not be surprised to hear that I was the first one out of the boat, extremely excited at the prospect of using a little manpower.

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The rest of our day was long, and uneventful, but incredibly beauftiful. Packs of naked 3-5 year old boys would run to the riverside and dance, wave, or throw thmselves into the river to say hello! It was quite the spectacle. The mountains began to narrow at several points, and the limestone cliffs were spectacular. We weaved through the rapids and spotted encampments of people fishing, washing, harvesting riverweed, or panning for gold. People would smile and wave, especially children, who would shout "SABAI-DEE!" and wave with both hands.

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We arrived in Nong Khiaw and were astounded by the beauty as we walked over the bridge. The "highway" that cuts through town is barely a two lane road, but continues 16 hours (I don't know the conversion in km or miles) to the Vietnamese border. Cars, buses or motorbikes only roll by every 5 or 10 minutes during daylight, then stop altogether when it gets dark. We ate a ig meal, and crwaled into our bungalow wearing all of our clothes to endure a cold night.

In the morning we went to check out the Pathok caves, where the local Lao lived for 6 years during the Vietnam war. Vietnamese soldiers traveled to the south on the Lao side of the border, so the United States basically bombed the country the pieces. Some cities were completely and utterly destroyed. Caves like these exist all over the country, as they provided the only hope of safety for villagers.

At the ticket hut three boys were playing soccer, so I stepped into the goal with a "bring it on" pose, and the kids took shots at me for a while. Then, with a well timed "made you look" ploy, I stole the ball and a game broke out. It was great fun, and we learned how to count to ten in Lao. When we finally walked up to the caves, Morgan noticed a group of 3-5 year olds walking down the path towards us. They walked straight into the fields and started working! It was shocking to us, but in small Lao villages children begin to contribute as soon as they are old enough to swing a machete. Of course, they were not bent over and slaving away, they combined play with their gathering of veggies and fruit, but it was still a crazy site for us.

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That afternoon we walked up a bath to a minority village. There are hill tribe villages all over Lao, many of them Hmong, a minority group that helped the Americans during the war, and in turn was greatly persecuted. Things seem to be ok now, though. It was great just to walk around a part of the country that was both beautiful and not overrun with falang (foreigners), though there were still a few of us around.

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We had a decsion to make. Continue upstream all the way to Phongsali, taking two more days of boats, or head back down and continue on our path? In the end two factors made up our mind. First we would leave Nong Khiaw with a great memories, not disapointed a bit. Secondly, it was quite cold. We grabbed a bus back to Luang Prabang yesterday.

Tomorrow we head south, but I am on a mission to get off the beaten track again before we leave this country!

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

The Slow Boat to Somewhere

It took us three days to get to Luang Prabang, just as we had planned. The getting there, however was nothing like we had planned. As we sat at the bus station after being told the next 3 hourly buses to Chiang Rai were sold out, I reflected on how quickly plans can go awry. If we didn't get to the border by 6:00 pm, we would trapped on the Thai side and be fined $30 for overstaying our visa. Not the end of the world, but not a good start.

Thanks to the help of a monk we met on our eventual bus, we made a speedy trip across Chiang Rai to the other bus station, and immediately found a bus leaving for Chiang Khong. Three hours more and it was another touk touk ride to the river crossing, where we hopped in a boat to Huay Xai and made it to Laos immigration at 5:30. Whew!

The question Morgan and I had been wrestling with was whether to take a 10 hour bus to Luang Prabang or a two day, 6 hour per day slow boat. There was also a fast boat that made the trip in a single day, but it was basically a soapbox derby car with a car engine strapped to the back, so we passed. We had heard that the boats can be pretty packed, and the overnight town is pretty shady, but we hate arriving in a new town late at night, and who can pass up a boat trip on the Mekong? Boat it is.

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The boat was scheduled to leave at 11:00am, so we got down there at 9:30 and bought tickets. We bought sandwiches for the ride and $1 pillows to sit on (knowing we would leave them on the boat in the end). We got on the boat at 10:30 to find a seat, but we didn't start moving for another 2 hours! This was a good indicator of how the boat ride would go.

The bench seats on the boat were completely unsittable; the backs seemed to be at about a 60 degree angle from the seat, thus dissuading any attempt at comfort. Fortunately we found a stack of plastic lawn chairs in the back, and settled right in.

The Mekong followed the Thai-Laos border for the first hour of our trip, and we saw lots of signs of development: barges, dump trucks of coal on sand bars, logging, etc. Then the river meanders back in between the mountains and most signs of human activity disappear. Every so often we would see a Buddhist wat (temple), a few people fishing, or groups of people that appeared to be panning for gold. Otherwise it was just water, sand, rock and jungle. Naturally speaking, it was much more interesting then our Mekong trip 1000 km downstream in Cambodia.

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It's impossible to share such cramped quarters with other tourists and not get to know them. Behind us sat 4 older Canadians from Prince George, all teachers or retired teachers. With us sat Chris, a 28 year old Australian living in London (who had been with us since the Chiang Mai bus), and across from us sat some younger folks from Holland and England. It amused me to realize that we seem to relate better to people 30 years older than us than we do to people 3 years younger than us. Another sign I am turning into Calvin's dad, I suppose.

Around 4pm we stopped at a small fishing village while locals poured onto the boat to sell us sandwiches, fruit and Beerlao. As quickly as they came, they went, and we were on our way to Pakbeng. I was not looking forward to Pakbeng, as positive attributes were hard to come by in the descriptions. People said to keep valuables close, and one traveler on the Lonely Planet forums described it as "kind of a wild west town." I wasn't keen on getting into it with anyone at the local saloon.

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Fortunately it wasn't a problem at all. About 5:30 the boat pulled up to a beach and we were told we would have to walk 10 minutes around a shallow section of the river, where we would then re-embark. Then it became clear that we needed to take our bags as well, because we were actually getting onto a new boat. With one gang plank for us and our sister ship (about 150 people in all), you can imagine how efficient it was to get off all the passengers and luggage, when much of the luggage had been placed underneath the floorboards with benches on top. I got off and started waiting for my bag to turn up. A few of us realized that the boatman were going to be no help in this process, and so took it upon ourselves to unload. I stood at the edge of the water while another traveler tossed backpacks to me. Once I had unloaded the packs of Morgan, Chris, and myself, I waved goodbye. "You're on your own now!" The first signs of savagery were starting to set in.

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Based on the general rule of calculating travel times outside of western society, I figured our "ten minute walk" would take us between 20-25 minutes. It took 40, and it was no walk. It was a hike over sand and rock, and it included one creek crossing. Granted, Morgan and I would've been much faster if we were not waiting in a line for people to get past the tricky parts. We're fast walkers. Not Isaac Hurst fast, but pretty fast. I also had the mystique of the hippy backpacker destroyed in my mind. I always thought that they were in-shape outdoors types, but this is not necessarily true. Just because they are dirty, skinny, and trendy (we only have the first 2) does not mean they are capable of walking on uneven surfaces. To the Dutch and English guys who had been drinking heavily, they must have seemed even more uneven!

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As you can see from the pictures, the sun was quickly setting, and though we weren't even close to Pakbeng, the rumor began to circulate that we would be sleeping on the boat. After we got into the boat of our choosing and secured a spot next to the Canadians, I went out to look around. We were moored downhill from a very small village, and it seemed the entire community of 40 men women and children had come down to meet us and sell us foodstuffs. The sun dropped down for good, the sand began to feel cool against my feet, and it became clear that the rumors were true. I had read previously that the boats could not safely travel in the dark.

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As I walked across the gangplanks back to our boat (the last of four), I caught the end of a conversation between a large young Englishman and a boatman. "We have to stay the night on the boat? Oh, you're just joking. I should push you in the river for that!" The boatman then exhibited one of the greatest nervous laughs I have ever seen.

On the boat we had fried rice and Beerlao for dinner, and Chris and I played Euchre against the Canadian men. Around 10pm we made space to sleep sardine style, and we eventually drifted off as Dutch techno drove out my last remnants of compassion for my fellow man.

We got going again at first light, and this is where things got ugly. Chris, Morgan and myself created a nice personal area on our clean beach mat, with room for people to walk around to the bathroom. When the party crew returned from the beach in the morning, they sat across from us, slowly creeping into our personal space. My passive aggressive side was about to burst as their garbage and clothes spilled over into our area, where we had neatly tucked everything out of the way under some benches. Since we weren't swimming in our own filth, the spaces between out legs became the path to the bathroom, and we were forced into less and less comfortable positions as the hangovers set in and the party animals crashed. This was or territory, and they were invading it!

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I know this is a long post, probably my longest ever, but I must diverge on a point of historical and cultural differences. A thousand years ago, the culture in SE Asia was quite advanced. In Europe, we were digging in the mud and dying of the plague. There are many reasons for this, hygiene not the least among them. As is the custom in many SE Asian homes, we removed our shoes on the boat, shook the sand off, and wiped our legs off. When going to the bathroom, we carried our sandals to the door, wore them inside, and again removed them after finishing our business. This was important because a thin pool of water was a constant presence in the bathroom.

In this manner, had others followed suit (and some did), the boat would have remained a very clean and habitable environment. In reality, people trudged wet sand in their nasty Tevas, sweaty socks rubbed against my ankles, and on the return trip from the bathroom what toilet juice that didn't get dripped on my exposed legs was stamped into the floor between them. It took about 5 minutes for us to realize that if we wanted our beach mat to make it to Vietnam in any kind of sanitary condition, it needed to go away immediately.

Clearly savagery had fully set in, but it was ok because we arrived in Luang Prabang a mere 11 hours later. We passed the time with reading, talking, playing cards, napping in the fetal position, and passive aggressively vying for square footage. The last two hours were the best. As the sun set people began to move around, snap photos, and converse with the anticipation of arrival. It was a beautiful evening, and the approach to the city was spectacular. No out of control development, no sky scrapers, no billboards. From the river you can't even see the buildings!

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Today Morgan and I were discussing whether or not we would take the slow boat again. It would be a tough call, but if we had any of you with us, the answer would definitely be yes!

Friday, February 12, 2010

Travel Weary

"I want to call United."

"Seriously?"

Morgan had trouble believing me because the roles are usually reversed, but I meant it this time. We are not even halfway through this part of our trip, and I am very, very tired. Being at the Williams house has been an incredible blessing, but home cooked meals, family time, and a daily routine have a price: Homesickness.

The fact of the matter is that we've been "playing life" for the past 16 days. Our minds and bodies feel like we're done traveling. Not so. Tomorrow we are off to Laos, and the grind continues. I am hoping that a kickstart of three travel days will get us back in the saddle, but at the moment heading back home sounds very nice.

Pray for us to be tough as we head off once again! We have a day of bus and two days of boat before we reach Luang Prabang on Monday evening. Then we head to Vang Vien on Wednesday, where we plan to spend 10-11 days. Me miss you all and are thinking of you!

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Grace for the Moment

Last week Mitch went home. It was weird after he left, a major transition in our trip. An hour after his flight left it started pouring rain (sorry you missed it Mitch!), and Mo and I took a walk in the downpour.

The next day we flew to Chiang Mai with vague plans to volunteer at Grace International School. Tad Williams' family attends/administers/teaches at Grace, and so we have been staying at their house and helping out in small ways at the school. Morgan is in the science department and I am in P.E. Woohoo!

The Williams are awesome. It is so great to be in a home for (to us) an extended period of time. They are fun, welcoming, and kind. On Sunday night I went with Seth (Tad's older brother) to an Irish pub to watch premier league soccer. We were joined by two student teachers from Norway and a guy from the Faeroe Islands. we got cussed out by a crazy British woman for cheering for Manchester United, who was destroying Arsenal. It was great fun.

Chiang Mai also has the best market/bazaar we have been to in all our travels. They are selling cool, local stuff, and vendors let you look at their stuff without bothering you. It takes place on Sunday nights when they shut down an entire city street for people to walk down.

A special surprise happened at the market, when I saw towering over the rest of the populous one Steven Shetterly! It was easy to find him in a crowd; I must be the same way! The next day we went hiking with him up to some waterfalls outside of town where there were absolutely no tourists at all.

We'll keep you posted oon the rest of our trip, but I will leave you with our general plan, cut and pasted from a Morgan e-mail:

We have a basic plan for the next 2 months:
- 2 weeks in Chiang Mai
- travel a few days in Laos
- 1.5 weeks in Vang Vieng Laos teaching English and working on an organic mulberry farm
- 2 weeks traveling in North Vietnam
- 1.5 weeks in Quy Nohn with Steven and Joelle
- fly home March 29!

Pictures to come.