Cold in Thailand

Over the last week our temperatures in Thaialnd have taken an amazing plunge. Our thermometer has been consistently reading in the upper 40s at night. This is very cold when you have no indoor heating! It's also very cold when you have a very weak hot water heater, so showers can be a chilling experience. Washing dishes is rather like bathing your hands in ice.

We've taken to sleeping in long pants, hats, and hooded sweatshirts, covered by layers of blankets. Two layers of socks are necessary for protection from our cold tile floor. We're starting to wonder if our upbringing in the northern climes has been completely useless, as we seem to have no tolerance for this weather.

I don't really mind the cold now, though, because I know that in just a few weeks I'll be roasting hot again.

Christmas Eve at the Mission

Located a couple kilometers outside our town is a Catholic mission center run by a group of Italian priests and nuns. They serve hill tribes living in the surrounding mountains, conducting Sunday masses on a rotating schedule and helping giving kids a chance to have a regular education. We've enjoyed attending Sunday services from time to time. The Italians speak Thai better than English, so that's how we communicate!

Twice a year, for Christmas and Easter, the hill tribe people come into the Center for mass. On Sunday evening, after returning from Bryn's Christmas Eve party for volunteers, we rode our bikes out to take part.

It was freezing cold -- I was wearing a turtleneck, a sweatshirt, a hat, and a hooded fleece jacket by the end of the service, and still shivering! -- but nonetheless we enjoyed seeing the many different people. Some were similarly bundled up, but some were wearing their local clothing. During the offering, pairs of girls and women in matching outfits carried up baskets of flour, grapes, and flowers, which was quite lovely. I was proud that I understood the majority of the Thai sermon, but when the petitions were read in Hmong I couldn't follow.

After mass, we rode back home in the dark cold, lit up our tree, and made spaghetti. A very pleasant Christmas Eve.

Train Travel

One of our favorite modes of travel in Thailand is the train. We usually ride second class when traveling between Bangkok and our site. It's about a ten-hour trip, but usually fairly comfortable, with air-conditioning and two coffee breaks.

After our day in Bangkok, Leah accompanied us on a train ride north. The photo was taken at Sam Sen station in Bangkok as we were waiting for the train to arrive. You can see a monk waiting nearby, a Thai flag, and if you look closely, some Thai writing. You might also notice that Robert is wearing a sweatshirt -- a cold spell has come across Thailand, and we're freezing! (Leah, coming from America, doesn't find it quite as cold as we do.)

Wat Arun

Our friend Leah is visiting us here this week and on Monday we had a pleasant day in Bangkok. The weather wasn't too hot and though we were all tired from our 2am return from the airport, we managed to keep our energy going until after dinner.

As our 15th visitor, Leah knows we've spent lots of time showing family and friends around the major sites of Thailand. She offered to forego a few of the tourist "highlights" so that all three of us would be able to see something new, so we chose Wat Arun, the temple that is featured on the 10-baht coin. We had gazed at it across the river many times and it always looked appealing.

Wat Arun is a Khmer-style wat, and the biggest surprise was realizing that the grey towers we had seen so many times from a distance are actually, when viewed up close, composed of thousands and thousands of tiny colored ceramic pieces. Here are Robert and Leah in front of one of the multi-colored structures. The Chao Praya river and Grand Palace temple are in the background.

Christmas Visit

I invited students from my Monday-Thursday school over to see our Christmas decorations this Saturday afternoon, and it was a big hit!

Robert's cousin Karin sent us a singing wreath, which welcomed the kids when they arrived on the porch. They found it hilarious and spent a lot of time over the course of the next hour and a half trying to figure out how the motion sensor worked -- trying to sneak past it without setting it off. It played pretty constantly anyway.

They admired the presents under the tree, played butting heads with the musical reindeer antlers, and ate some chocolate pieces I had found at the store up the street. When they had seen enough of Christmas, they moved on to exploring the rest of our house -- books, magazines, photos, large-sized shoes, shortwave radio, Western bathroom, and maps.

It was fun to be able to share a little Christmas cheer with someone in our town!

The Pink House

This is our house in Thailand. It's a one-story, three-room house. (One main room and two bedrooms.) And it's very pink! If I had included a photo of the bathroom, you would have seen that it, too, is very pink.

This photo was taken just a week or so after we moved in. I think things look a bit messier now -- the lawn is a little overgrown and patchy, the potted plants are relocated to a corner and replaced by bicycles, and the laundry is usually hanging on the patio. The pink paint is also a little faded in dirty in some areas as a result of last year's flood.

It's a very comfortable little house for two people to live in for two years!

Party Meat

Before coming to Thailand, I expected it to be something of a vegetarian’s paradise. All those fresh fruits and vegetables! Plenty of soy and tofu! Just like at the Thai restaurant down the block from our apartment!

In reality, though, I have found the Thai people to be some of the most gung-ho meat eaters I’ve ever known. No meal is considered complete, it seems, without a large portion of pork, beef, or chicken. In most northern Thai dishes, in fact, the meat is the main component of the meal – simply chopped and seasoned with locally grown herbs, and eaten with sticky rice. Tofu, if eaten, is usually mixed with fish or pork. I have yet to meet another vegetarian in our town. The closest I have come was about 20 months ago, when I met a teacher from another school district who eats vegetarian on "Buddhist days" – approximately once every eight days, according to the cycle of the moon.

When I say that I am vegetarian, most people assume that either a) I eat meat most of the time, excepting a special days, or b) I am probably crazy. When I tell them that I haven’t eaten meat for over 11 years, they look momentarily befuddled, and then decisively pronounce that that’s why I have such good skin.

On Sunday evening, we celebrated Robert’s birthday at the house of some school district friends. The meal was a typical Thai celebration meal for a large group of people, called "sukiyaki." (I think the concept originally comes from somewhere else in East Asia.) A large cooking device, slightly resembling a wok, is kept constantly heated. Diners sit in a circle around the heat source. Different bowls are scattered about containing a variety of ingredients, usually including raw pork, thin rice noodles, chopped vegetables, and chili sauce. Each diner has their own mini-bowl and set of chopsticks. Diners take turns using their chopsticks to arrange the meat on the heat source for cooking. A large bowl of broth is also kept constantly on the heat source, and diners will add scoops of noodles or vegetables as they desire. When satisfied as to doneness, diners will transfer cooked ingredients to their own bowl and then eat them with the chili sauce. It’s a very festive way to eat!

Sunday night, the main ingredients included fresh pork, processed pork balls, processed fish "tofu," processed shrimp "tofu," eggs, rice noodles, cauliflower and water spinach. I had my own separate bowl of pre-mixed noodles, boiled vegetables, and regular soy tofu (not shown in photos). It was a chilly night, so the heat in the middle of the mat kept us warm as we talked and ate for over three hours!

COS Conference

Last week we traveled to Cha-am, three hours south of Bangkok, for our Completion of Service (COS) conference. 50 volunteers arrived in Thailand on January 14th, 2005, and 45 of us made it to this conference – an impressive statistic!

Our last date of service will be March 27th, 2007, so to help us wade through paperwork, medical tests, packing, and planning during these last three months, Peace Corps puts on the COS Conference. Over the course of three days, we spent time reflecting on our original goals for our time in Thailand and what the highs and lows of our experience have been. They gave us lots of information about our upcoming doctor and dentist appointments, how to deal with future health issues resulting from PC service, buying our plane tickets to go home, and how to find RPCV (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers) groups in America. We also spent lots of time working on our resumes and talking about graduate school applications, job searching, and networking. Several former volunteers from different countries who are now living in Thailand came and talked to us about what we might expect our post-PC experience to be like.

There was lots of laughter, as well as a few tears. Time on the beach, in the pool, and at the ping-pong table. Buffet meals, "coffee breaks," noodle stands on the street at night. A wedding invitation. Nervousness and excitement about what lies ahead.

The photo doesn’t show the whole group, but if you look closely you might find both Robert and me.

Hitchhiking!

Earlier this week, I made reference to our disappointing travel over last weekend. Perhaps I spoke a little too strongly in referring to it as "calamitous," because we got several concerned inquiries from home wondering what happened. I have now edited out that wording, and I will explain a bit more about why we felt it wasn’t our best travel weekend ever. Please know, though, that several days later we have pretty much forgotten all about it!

Thailand is at a fascinating developmental stage, in which large numbers of the population live in poverty – including a majority of the students we teach – while large numbers also live very well, in fact, quite comfortably compared to the United States. In addition, Thailand’s huge tourist industry has quite an impact. Most tourists, of course, are quite wealthy compared with most Thais, and they pour lots of money into the economy.

Our Peace Corps living allowance is designed to enable us to live at the level of the people in our community, in particular the people with whom we work. What this means practically, for us, is that we are much wealthier than the families of most of the students we teach, but nowhere near as wealthy as the teachers we teach with, except the very young teachers who have just started in the civil service. We are "poor" compared with the tourists, even the backpackers, which occasionally causes frustration when we travel because Thai people expect us to have bottomless pockets of cash like the other foreigners they have encountered.

In any case, the area we traveled to last weekend – the Golden Triangle area in northern Chiang Rai province – is not designed for people with limited budgets. We had assumed that, like most places in Thailand, we could use local transportation to make our way between destinations for an affordable price. As it turns out, it’s not worth visiting that area unless you have 1) your own vehicle, or 2) a large budget, useful for renting vans and chartering songtaews. Even the Thai tourists we saw traveled almost exclusively in rental vans, hired complete with driver. Public transportation was infrequent and difficult to find.

As a result, we spent more money than we had planned on last-try transportation, including an extra 100 baht apiece for a "VIP" bus that we hoped would get us to a particular destination on time but didn’t. We walked at least 3 kilometers along highways, not in itself a long distance but one that feels considerably longer when you are walking in the sun with a large backpack on your back. We skipped a couple of meals. And we "hitchhiked" twice, once in the back of a pickup along the Mekong River during the day, and once in the back of a station wagon on the highway back to Chiang Rai at night. And for all that, we never did reach our primary destination: a Chinese mountaintop village.

But, six days later it doesn’t seem as bad as it did then. We did enjoy the Hall of Opium museum, the shiny statues at the Golden Triangle, and of course, our dinner by the Mekong. And we got to see a nice fat rat digging through our bags in the middle of the night at our guest house in Chiang Saen. (Avoid Gin’s House unless you want a similar experience.) So, unpleasant though much of it might have been at the time, I think it will make a good story someday!

[Note: Robert says it was not really hitchhiking because we didn't flag these cars down. We just looked pitiful and they offered assistance, which we accepted. But I think "hitchhiking" sounds more exciting than "accepted help."]

Love Those Dried Bananas

Several years ago, as part of a drive to improve the Thai economy at the local (village) level, the OTOP program was started. OTOP stands for "One Tambon, One Product," a tambon being a unit of local government approximately equal to a township. Every tambon has the opportunity to specialize in one or more products, and these locally-made products, when approved, will have a special label on their packaging marking them as OTOP. They can also be rated with a certain number of stars (1 to 5) indicating their quality. Examples of OTOPs in our area include cloth weaving, banana chips, and sweetened rice cakes. OTOPs I have seen from other parts of the country include dried mushrooms, wood carving, silk weaving, and all sorts of sweets and snacks.

After our school visit to a village north of town yesterday, we were taken by Pi Nongnut – a very enthusiastic woman who is part of that area’s governing council – to visit the local OTOP makers. We were taken to a lovely piece of property with a very large and beautiful traditional northern Thai house. Outside the house were two long tables covered in plastic. Looking under the plastic, we were able to see rows of "sweet water" bananas (a popular variety) drying in the warm sun, protected from bugs. We also went inside the packing building, where Pi Nongnut showed off the clean facilities and machines for sealing the bananas in plastic packaging.

Not only did we get to taste several of the delicious bananas fresh from the drying tables, but we were given ten boxes to take home with us! Our refrigerator is now very, very full.

Signs Again

In a typical five day work week, our Peace Corps project has us working in 2 primary schools apiece, 2 days a week, for a total of four regular days in school per week. They may or may not be full days, for example, I usually don’t leave for my Monday-Thursday school until about 9:30am because we don’t teach English until 10:00. The fifth day of the week, Wednesdays in our case, is flexible. We might work at the school district office, or help judge an English competition, or do official paperwork or reports for Peace Corps, or visit a school that we don’t usually attend. Today we did a school visit.

It was a very delightful day. The school was located about 15 kilometers north of town in a small village. It was clear to us that this community takes a lot of pride in their school – the grounds were well cared-for and decorated, and teachers enjoyed showing us various student projects including agriculture, basket-making, and raising fish and pigs. In the morning, we did a 90-minute English lesson with the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd graders, and in the afternoon with did the same with 4th, 5th, and 6th.

One of my favorite things about this school was the abundance of signs with interesting sayings nailed to the trees. This is a very Thai phenomena – I have seen it at other schools and temples. Usually they remind the reader to live in moderation or take time to reflect on their life. Some of the signs at this school, however, had some unexpected sayings... Take the time to enlarge the photos and see what you can read!

When we asked about the "villains" saying, we were given a long complicated explanation about people who grow up in poor villages, then suddenly become rich, and eventually forget who they are and where they came from. We weren’t sure about the English translation.

World Map #2

It’s that time of year again. Last year I did a World Map project at my Tuesday-Friday school. This year we’re doing one at my Monday-Thursday school. It’s great fun! This year’s World Cup got kids particularly interested in knowing where different countries are, especially the ones with good soccer teams.

We do it the old-fashioned way. Using a guide from Peace Corps, I made color-coded guide sheets for each sector of the map. We drew a grid on the wall, and the kids used the grid and guide sheets to draw all the countries in pencil first. (I had to fix Europe and part of Africa, but on the whole they did a nice job.)

Now we are painting. So far we’ve done yellow, green, and red. Aside from a few paint-related issues (too much water added at first, not enough containers for leftover paint), it’s going well and starting to look nice. I do spend a lot of time patching up border areas, but I find it to be fulfilling work!

A Pocket of Nice on the Mekong

Having just returned from a rather calamitous four-day weekend trip to Chiang Rai province, which perhaps I’ll describe another day, I’m trying to remember that it’s the little things in life that can bring us joy. Not every vacation will be fun, even when you’re using two of your precious Peace Corps vacation days. Not every "must see" in Thailand will be seen during our two years here, even if it is only 7 hours by three vehicles away. But even when a four-day weekend turns out to be just a lot of money spent to sit on buses for nothing, there are still a few small pleasures to be celebrated.

Although I’ve considered myself to be vegetarian for over ten years now, I did start to eat some fish in particular circumstances about five years ago. Being vegetarian in Thailand has saved me from many an unpleasant dining experience – I don’t have to worry about being served raw meat, processed fish shaped like mouse faces, or other such "delicacies." But I know that it has also meant that I’ve missed out on trying a lot of the local cuisine, which is very much meat-based.

On occasion, when far away from anyone who might recognize me, I do take the opportunity to try a little fish if it’s prepared in a special "local" way. In Laos, I tried some of Robert’s fish "laab" – minced fish salad with spices and herbs. Last April, I enjoyed grilled mackerel on the beach. And Friday night, one of the few parts of this weekend vacation that worked out, I enjoyed "fish steamed in bamboo", a local specialty of Chiang Saen town in Chiang Rai, while sitting at a little table overlooking the Mekong River after sunset. It was positively a delightful meal – also including sticky rice and spicy papaya salad – and despite the various disappointments of the weekend, I am still left feeling quite fond of the Mekong and its culinary offerings.

Vientiane -- A Relaxing Town

This is the tenth and final chapter of our Laos journey.

To complete our time in Laos, we spent one day in the capital, Vientiane (pronounced "Wiang Chan"). A pleasant city situated on the Mekong River, we found Vientiane to fit with the understanding of Laos we had developed over the week: similar to Thailand in many ways, but calmer and more expensive.

We spent several hours at the Lao National Museum, focusing on the exhibits that included English labels but paying some attention to the Thai and French as well. Most fascinating was the emphasis on the "greatness" of Communism and the strong antipathy towards the "American imperialists." After reading label after label decrying the actions of the United States during the 1970s – most of the strong language probably deserved, though not what I’d expect to find in a historical museum – I began to feel a bit uneasy about my own presence in the country. It was a strange – not fearful, but maybe a little guilty – feeling. I’m very glad we got to see it, though, because I think it was an experience I couldn’t have had elsewhere.

We also visited Laos’s most important temple, Wat Pathat Luang. The gold lotus glinting in the sunlight was hot, but it was fun to see a different design style than we usually find in Thailand. Two major tourists sites were enough for us for one day, though, so we spent the remainder of our time strolling the parkway along the river, eating baguettes, reading, and enjoying one last Beer Lao. It was a true vacation.

A Day on a Laos Highway

This is Chapter 9 of our Laos journey.

After two lovely full days in Luang Prabang, on Friday morning we boarded a "VIP" bus for the day-long journey to Vientianne, the current capital of Laos. Many people make this journey overnight, but I have to say they don’t know what they are missing. This bus ride – despite the occasional engine caught fire or delay at a police station – was one of the highlights of our trip, and as I sit at my computer several weeks later thinking back on Laos, it is those images we saw from windows of the bus that feature most prominently in my memories.

After leaving the city of Luang Prabang, the bus climbed high and then higher, and higher, and higher. Soon we were above the clouds – at least the low-level mountain clouds – and there we stayed, for five hours, winding our way very slowly and carefully along ridges. We’d look down into huge valleys, sometimes on either side, and marvel at the wildness of it.

Every five to ten kilometers, we would pass through a tiny village. Thatched-roof houses were built right along the sides of the cliffs. A community water pump stood in the center of each village, and there we would see women washing clothes or children splashing. Mats covered with drying rice or chilies lay in the sunshine. Men, women, and children walked along the road, sometimes steeply uphill, with large bundles on their backs. Even though we were watching it all through the windows of a bus, I felt like we were visitors in another world. Upon a later reading of our guidebook, we learned that this area was "the heart of Hmong country" and the site of many rebel attacks over past decades. If there was one place in Laos I would love to have the chance to go back and explore, this would be it.

About halfway along the trip, the bus was passing through a lowland Lao village and suddenly swerved and hit a wagon. This resulted in a 3-hour delay, during which the three bus employees negotiated with the wagon owners, the police, and other interested locals. The tourists, meanwhile, wandered about and drank sodas. Finally, some money exchanged hands and we were free to leave again. We finished with the high mountain roads but continued to wind along lovely valleys and past tiny villages.

Pulling into the city of Vientianne at night was almost a letdown. We might have been traveling the main highway between two of Laos’s major cities, but it felt like the wilds of Southeast Asia to us.

[Most photos were taken through the windows of the bus, so please forgive any reflections or blurriness.]

Thoughts on the People of Luang Prabang

This is Chapter 6 of our Laos journey. There will be 8 chapters in all.

Our time in Laos was very short, and I don’t claim to be able to describe its peoples or cultures in any comprehensive way like I might about Thailand after being here nearly two years. However, we did make a number of interesting observations during our days in Luang Prabang.

Thailand, being 75% ethnic Thai (including Thai Lao) and 11% ethnic Chinese, has a relatively homogenous culture with some regional variation. National unity is strong, with few exceptions, and conformity is strongly valued. Other ethnic groups – particularly other southeast Asians – are often viewed with suspicion or even distaste.

In Laos, by contrast, only about 50% of the people are ethnic "Lao." The other half of the population is made up of more than 100 different ethnicities, including numerous Thai subgroups, hill tribes, Chinese, and Vietnamese. Although the groups are geographically separated, with the Lao primarily living in the flatter lowlands and other ethnic groups inhabiting the hills and mountains, society as a whole is much more mixed than in Thailand. During our short visit, we speculated that social conformity and unity are less important in Laos.

Economically, the people of Luang Prabang are at an interesting point. The city is geographically isolated – connected to other areas only by a small highway and the Mekong River. Tourism has brought about a recent boom, however, and entire streets and blocks are filled with guest houses and restaurants catering to foreigners. Although most of the city is still residential, it is obvious that tourism is rapidly increasing the living standards of a select group.

When we hiked up the hill in the middle of town, the path took us through a neighborhood of shabby houses and shacks. The people living there were clearly not wealthy, and their homes had few comforts. What nearly every house seemed to have, however, was a satellite dish. As we rose higher above the roofs of the neighborhood, we could see them poking up to the sky. What are they used for? As far as we could tell, to watch Thai TV. We saw many families watching Thai soap operas, commercials, and music shows. We even saw the Thai national anthem as it was played daily at 6pm.

We were struck by the high cost of living in Laos as compared to Thailand. A plate of noodles that would cost 50 cents here was at least 75 cents there. At first we thought it was because we tourists and visiting mostly tourist areas. It became clear, though, that even the residents of Luang Prabang were paying the higher prices. We weren’t sure whether this was because tourism has inflated the prices of basic necessities, or because the isolation of the city means that those necessities are more scarce to begin with, though we were inclined to lean towards the latter explanation. By contrast, however, the price of souvenirs – silk scarves, hill tribe handicrafts, etc – was far cheaper than in Thailand. We were excited to make a few purchases for our future home in America!

Overall, our visit to Laos left us with many questions about its society and culture. I only wish we had more time to travel back and find some answers.



[The photo of the watercress salad is included to show more of the remarkably delicious local food – Lao with French influence – we were able to eat in Laos.]

Tourists in Luang Prabang

This is Chapter 5 of our Laos journey.

Luang Prabang, the former royal capital of Laos and a UNESCO World Heritage site, is set on the Mekong river and surrounded by wild mountains. French colonialism heavily influenced its architecture, and to our delight, its food as well. We had heard reports from other volunteers about its mellow avenues, riverside restaurants, tasty baguettes and strong coffee, and we had been looking forward to experiencing it all ourselves.

Our first evening, we dined on the river, enjoying a medley of local foods, sticky rice, and Beer Lao. A highlight of the meal was the "Salad Luang Prabang," made of watercress that grows along the river and a tangy dressing. We then retired to the Thavisouk Guest House, a pleasant place located in a residential area, away from the main tourist roads. We fell asleep feeling as though we were still floating along the brown waters of the Mekong.

Our two full days in Luang Prabang were spent strolling along its calm, clean, monk-filled streets and visiting a couple of temples. One site, That Chomsi, was situated high on a hill in the center of town. We walked up cool, shady paths, past old statues and stones, to find fantastic views from the top. The Royal Museum, with its gardens and art exhibits along with the usual treasures of an old kingdom, was another highlight. From time to time, we ran into fellow travelers from our two days on the boat, and one evening we dined with Ben & Young. Mostly, however, we just took our time . . . drinking fruit smoothies, writing postcards and journal entries, enjoying the feeling of not having to hurry anywhere or be "on duty" for anyone.

Aside from a few bumps, like Robert’s mild food poisoning that kept him from eating as many baguettes as I did over the course of the week and our realization that being tourists in Lampang was using more of our budget than expected, our days in Luang Prabang convinced us that travel as a twosome is something we ought to have more of in our future.

Never Boring

My description of our Laos journey is not yet finished, but this evening’s events required a different blog entry for today. More Laos to come later.

I knew that something was out of the ordinary this morning when I left for school, because our neighbors across the street seemed to be making large structures out of colored paper – always the sign of loud festivities to come. But because Loy Kratong holiday is this weekend, I assumed their activities must be somehow related.

I was then only partially surprised to arrive home from school and market shortly before 5pm, ready to make dinner and spend the evening doing household chores, to find that a party was in full swing just five feet from our gate. There were the money trees, the tables covered with sticky rice containers and bottles of whiskey, the bowls of peanuts, the crowds of laughing people. There too were the neighborhood northern Thai musicians, practicing their drums and chimes.

Knowing I would eventually be joining in one way or another, and realizing that my plans for a relatively quiet evening were of no use, I ducked into the house to quickly change clothes and unpack bags of vegetables. When Robert arrived five minutes later, Pi La from across the street came over to tell us that there would be a parade to the temple shortly after 5pm, and we were invited to join in the fun.

We scrambled to eat some snacks, put together some money to donate to the tree, and lock up the house, shouting at each other over the noise. When the regular beat of the drums started, we joined in the crowd and started walking: up our lane, along the main road, passing by students and teachers and food vendors. The women walked in front, singing and dancing, while the men trailed behind, playing music or smoking cigarettes. Both men and women carried glasses of ice which were constantly refilled with beer and whiskey, so the revelry continued all the way to the temple.

Once inside the grounds, we circumnavigated the main hall three times – still singing and dancing – before taking off our shoes and entering. When we were finally seated in the back and waiting for the monks to begin chanting, we had a chance to ask the reason for the celebration. "Oh," said Pi See, who lives behind us. "Pi La won the lottery yesterday. More than 100,000 baht. Number 5-7-9." So all the merit-making, feasting, drinking, singing, and dancing, were to show thanks for the winning ticket. [Thai people are crazy about the lottery and very intense about the process of choosing their numbers. It’s typical to celebrate a win by hosting your friends or co-workers to a meal or party. Robert went out for lunch today with the teachers from his school because one of them had won big yesterday also, so she paid for everyone.]

Since it’s Thursday night and we have a busy weekend approaching, we were thankful that the monk chanting didn’t last too long. We were soon on our way home through the dark cool night in the back of a pickup truck. We’re in for the evening, but as I type there are still a few people across the street enjoying the remnants of the event.

[The photos are actually from two previous events, but show the same parade to the wat concept.]

Mekong Slow Boat -- Day 2

This is Chapter 4 of our Laos journey.

We awoke early in Pak Beng after a fine night’s sleep to find that the river was literally underneath our window. We hadn’t noticed it the previous night in the dark. Fog was thick over the water and we watched as boat traffic started moving. After packing up, we walked outside and bought baguette sandwiches from stands along the road to last us through the day. Such luxury!

The second day on the slow boat passed much like the first, except that the scenery was even wilder and the seats more comfortable; due to engine trouble, we had been switched to another boat, much to our happiness. We spent many hours conversing with Young & Ben, a couple about our age who had been traveling through Southeast Asia for several months.

I continued to reflect on the small villages we passed on our way – their smallness, their evident poverty, and their isolation. I also began noticing the relatively large numbers of school-aged children present in the villages. It appeared that these kids were not attending classes of any sort. If they were dressed at all, it usually was not in a school uniform, and most of the villages looked too small to support a school anyway. In Thailand, the primary schools are often not much to speak of, but they do exist and most, if not all, kids attend. Seeing this different situation in Laos made me curious about other ways in which the two countries might differ, despite their physical closeness.

Shortly after 4pm, we turned a corner past some large cliffs and came to the town of Luang Prabang, the former capital of Laos. Although it had been a pleasant trip, we were glad to be off the boat at last and more than ready to settle in for a couple of days. We climbed into a tuk-tuk and headed off to our guest house.

Mekong Slow Boat to Pak Beng

This is Chapter 3 of our Laos journey.

When Robert and I were planning our Laos vacation, we felt a bit guilty about sticking to "the beaten path." If you were to open the Lonely Planet Laos and read their suggested itinerary #1, you would find a nearly-exact description of our trip. Did this mean we would be missing out on the "real" Laos? Would we only see what had been specially tailored for tourists? Given our time and budget limits, though, it was the best choice for us. Besides, we rationalized, we’ve been living OFF the beaten path in Thailand for nearly two years now, so that must count for something. We were ready to be tourists for a change.

Nonetheless, we were taken aback as we watched our slow boat fill with North American and European backpackers. It got so full, in fact, that another boat had to be brought around, so that one could be filled too. Who were these people? Where did they get the time and money to sit on a boat in Laos for two days? (Were we not Peace Corps volunteers in Thailand, I’m quite sure we’d not have had the opportunity. There were, I should note, two other Peace Corps Thailand volunteers on the boat as well.) Had we come to Laos to see Laos, or to see Europe?

When you spend two days sitting on a small boat with the same group of people, though, you do get to know them some, and I will say that our fellow Mekong River travelers were a lively, yet friendly, bunch. They swapped travel plans and advice, looked at one another’s copies of the Lonely Planet, drank Beer Lao and saluted the fine scenery together. For our part, the daytime consumption of Beer Lao was out of our budget, but we did splurge on a package of Oreos when the boats pulled up to a tiny village and a family of vendors boarded with their baskets of goods. Yes, I ate Oreos on the Mekong River.

There were a few "real" Lao people on our boat, though, so occasionally we got the opportunity to dock at a village, usually a very small group of houses down close to the water, so they could get off. The houses themselves were a sight to see; made of rattan with a thatched roof, they were completely different from Thai houses. At each village, adults and children would hurry down to the water to look at the "farang" travelers and find out who was coming or going. There are no roads in this part of Laos, so the river traffic is their connection to the outside world.

Just as it was getting dark, we pulled into the town of Pak Beng for the night. We had been dreading Pak Beng, as I had read numerous blogs describing the bugs, rats, and drug pushers wandering its roads and guest houses. To our great surprise and delight, though, we immediately settled in at the Salika Guest House, which had screened windows, private bathrooms, and no rats anywhere, all for an affordable price. Amazed at our good fortune, we headed out to find food and ended up at Hasan Indian Restaurant, owned and operated by a nice young man from southern India. The food was good, and he spent a solid hour talking with us about what it was like being an Indian restaurant owner on the beaten path in Laos.

Feeling much pleased with ourselves for being such good travelers – surviving our first day on the wooden benches of the slow boat and the dark roads of Pak Beng – we retired to our room for a good night’s sleep.