It's been a while since I've written anything, and even longer since I've written anything about my travels. A lot has happened since Lizzie and I left Chiang Mai, and it's given me even more food for thought. So, here goes nothing.
We spent one night in Chiang Khong before crossing the border into Laos, where we reconnected with Patric and Alex and took a two-day slow boat down the Mekong River to Luang Prabang, via Pakbeng. Luang Prabang is a UNESCO-listed world heritage site. It is a quiet little town, nestled between the Mekong and the Nam Khan, with a state-imposed 11:30 curfew. The Lao people are calm and subdued; there is a marked contrast between the noisy hustle-bustle of a Thai night market and the quiet one in Luang Prabang, with its vendors sitting silently behind their handicraft underneath red canopies lit by bright incandescent bulbs.
We spent two days in the city, and then embarked on a three-day trek with Alex, Patric, and Paul and Kevin, two English guys we met at a noodle stall in the market. We spent the first day on mountain bikes, the second day hiking and the third day whitewater kayaking. We spent each night in a different Lao village, swimming, learning how to fish with a net, eating, drinking and playing cards. Unlike on our Chiang Mai trek, I felt very welcome in both villages. The Lao children absolutely loved us--whenever we passed along the way, they'd yell "Sabaidee!" (hello) and wave excitedly. At the villages, they'd gather around us and just stare.
On the first evening, Alex, Lizzie and I offered to help prepare dinner; not only were we allowed to help, but we were give quite a bit of responsibility! Once we finished chopping up the vegetables and meat, I was given the task of cooking the main meat dish--a tasty beef stir fry--over an open fire, guided by various members of the family. They all had a bit of a chuckle when it came time to feed the fire, and I asked them if it was ok to blow on the embers. I guess it was just so blatantly obvious to them that that needs to be done, but I was naturally hesitating with every move.
I really enjoyed being a bit of a spectacle in these villages. I got the impression that neither of them got many Western visitors, so we were interesting both to look at and to interact with. Although this was slightly awkward at times, it was amazing otherwise. Despite having read that Laos women bathe in sarongs and consider anything less showing too much skin, I wore my bikini to swim, having no room for a sarong in my tiny backpack. I tried to be discreet when getting out of the water, but got some major stares from local women (no men were around) nevertheless. Lizzie maintains that they were marvelling at my long legs, white skin (I am still pale as a ghost) and blonde hair--thanks, Lizzie!--but I think they were appalled that I was so scandalously clad. Maybe it was a bit of both!
Generally speaking, though, I feel as though the locals were very accepting of us, even though some of our behaviour and dress may have been ill-suited to their culture. On the second night, I went for a wee wander to check out the humble village temple. Its grounds were buzzing with monks, novices (monks in training) and children. I approached the temple hesitatingly, knowing that I ought to have something with which to cover my bare shoulders (again, I had nothing). My presence immediately elicited curiousity; the boys invited me to have a look inside the temple, and followed me in. I used the little bit of Lao I had learned from Jao, one of our guides, to have a bit of a talk with them. They laughed hysterically at everything I said, and allowed me to take a few pictures.
I really enjoyed our last couple of days in Luang Prabang, not for the sights we've seen, but for the amazing people we've met. Lizzie and I have been working hard to develop our Lao vocabulary, and we now know our numbers and some phrases like "What's your name?", "How much is this?" and "Where are you from?" It's incredible how far a few basics like that can go. I assume most Westerners don't bother to learn anything past the obligatory "sabaidee" (hello) and "kob chai" (thank you), since even a few extra phrases are enough to pleasantly surprise a local, putting a smile on his or her face, and drawing a bit of a crowd. They immediately want to know how long you've been in Laos and where you've been studying. Lizzie and I get a huge kick out of going through every single Lao thing we know; "Kwai hak jao" (I love you) gets a huge response, especially when followed by "jao hak kwai bo?" (do you love me, too?).
I've especially gotten a lot out of speaking with monks and novices. Every single one I've met is so friendly and eager to have a chat for as long as we please. I've learned a lot about Buddhism, and am really beginning to appreciate this peaceful religion. The monks live a very simple lifestyle; they must give up all material things, including (but not limited to) food after noon, drinking, singing, entertainment and dancing. Yet not a single monk I've met seems miserable with his life; in fact, they all seem genuinely happy. The italics are necessary because (I think) that is quite a bold statement to make. I rarely meet anyone who seems to me to be happy; content, maybe satisfied... but really and truly happy? I'm not sure how many people can truthfully say that about themselves. I certainly can't.
Tonight we spend our first night in Vang Vieng, which is apparently the "backpacker's Vegas". We'll see how it all pans out!
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