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.

Robert and Sid Ficious Toast Ian in Honor of his Birthday Month

Huay Xai

This is Chapter 2 of our Laos journey.

The small town of Huay Xai on the Mekong River was our introduction to Laos, and we were immediately enchanted. After buying our visas, we walked up the hill and through town to the Aramid Guest House (a fine place to stay). "This feels different from Thailand," said Robert. "This feels a lot like Thailand, but calmer," I replied. "Nobody is shouting at us."

At the recommendation of the enthusiastic owner of the Aramid, we walked down to the slow boat landing for dinner overlooking the water. Seated at a table above the river, we watched as boats loaded and unloaded. A group of tourists arrived and trudged up the hill with their backpacks. Families watched the activities. Women bathed on the front of the boats, wearing sarongs – some families use the boats as both home and workplace. Joined by Sid Ficious, we took our first taste of Beer Lao and became instant fans. Robert ordered fish laab, I ordered stir-fried vegetables, and we shared both dishes with sticky rice. The sun slowly set on our first evening in Laos.

We had heard many rumors about the presence of overwhelming numbers of French baguettes in Laos, due to its colonial legacy, and we were eagerly anticipating them in the weeks leading up to our trip. In the morning at the Aramid, we were not disappointed: the wife of the owner made us fantastic "omelette sandwiches," the likes of which we’ve never had in Thailand. Well-fortified, we hoisted our backpacks once again and walked back to the slow boat landing, sharing the road with hundreds of students walking and riding bicycles to school.

Morning on the Mekong is foggy; we couldn’t see across to Thailand when we arrived, but as we waited nearly four hours for our boat to leave, it became visible. We were entertained by watching the continuing loading of the boats, including the transfer of hundreds of crates of Beer Lao between land and water. We also bought several more baguettes for snacking during the day. In the ticket office, Robert snapped a photo of some flags showing our location.

When a horde of other "farang" backpackers arrived from Thailand around noon, we settled ourselves onto the boat and got ready to depart Huay Xai.

To the Mekong

I’ve decided to write about our journey through Laos as a series of blog entries over the next ten days or so. There is so much to say, and so many photos to show. I’ll start first off, though, by saying that it was a fantastic trip – despite tiredness, upset stomachs, bus breakdowns (plural), and many hours long hours logged on various transport. I only wish we had had more time. I would gladly return, and recommend it to anyone who is considering making the trip.

Today I’ll give a brief summary of the first leg of our journey: from our house to Huay Xai, Laos. We left our house at the early hour of 8:45am and walked two blocks to a basketball court, where we boarded an ordinary, non-airconditioned bus that took us, over the course of many hours, all the way to Chiang Rai – the northernmost province in Thailand. The bus ride from our house north was a fantastic experience itself – we had never ridden in that direction before, and we got to see new places in our own district. Chiang Rai is beautiful – higher mountains, well-tended rice fields, cultivated hillsides. We spent one night in the city there and then took another scenic 3-hour bus ride to Chiang Khong the following day. Chiang Khong is one of the places where foreigners can cross the border – the Mekong River – from Thailand into Laos.

The Mekong impressed us at first sight. It was big, brown, and fast moving. We watched little boats fighting against the current as they made their way back and forth. Even the bigger boats seemed to have to work pretty hard. Laos, on the other side, looked green and lovely.

From Chiang Khong, we took a tiny river ferry across to Huay Xai, Laos. When I say tiny, I mean that it could only hold a few people, and we were just a couple of inches above the water! I spent the 10-minute journey shaking as I snapped a few photos and tried not to tip much to one side or the other.

We arrived in Huay Xai, paid what felt like an exorbitant fee for a visa (we’re Peace Corps volunteers, after all), and headed up the hill into town.

[The photos, mysteriously out of the order I tried to arrange, show the following: our bus to Chiang Mai, Robert standing on the Thai side of the river, a fish pal crossing on the little boat, and our arrival at Lao immigration.]

Hello from Laos

Robert and I are sitting in an internet cafe in Luang Prabang, Laos. I wanted to have a post on my blog from Laos, because I think it's cool!

We are big fans of Laos. I'll give more details about why, and some photos, next week when we return to Thailand. In the meantime, imagine us visiting historic temples and eating lots of baguettes.

Kids and Instruments

One thing many of the schools in our town are very good at, despite their other issues, is the teaching of traditional northern Thai music. Kids learn about the different instruments and how to play them, and they usually sound pretty good! It’s fun to hear.

This photo shows the music group at my Monday-Thursday school. There are 4th, 5th, and 6th graders. They are instructed by the principal and sometimes by high school students. My co-teacher, Ajaan Warangkana, is standing with them.

If you look closely at the photo you might notice the big blue milk cooler and the shoe rack, as well.

Boys and Milk

About ten years ago, someone in Thailand looked at students from Europe and America and observed that they are, on the whole, taller than Thai students. This someone also observed that in Europe and America, many kids drink milk every day. So the connection was made: milk = tall, maybe.

As a result, the Thai government now provides daily milk for all students in the country. Every day kids line up at the big cooler for their bag, or carton, and drink up. My students all say that they like to drink it, which is notable considering that Thai adults can’t drink milk without getting stomach aches. I guess the new policy has changed Thai digestion. However, they do all agree that soymilk is more delicious. (A non-milk-drinker myself, I agree with the soymilk lovers.)

Regarding floods, our house is still dry. We haven’t had much rain in the last couple of days – I think most of it is falling further south – but I make no predictions about what happens next!

I thought we were done with this!

Yesterday, in a fit of housekeeping that included washing windows and expelling dozens of spider webs from the ceiling (the spiders weren’t too happy), I decided to finally start unpacking the garbage bags we’ve had sitting around the house, filled with our stuff, for three months now. We hadn’t had much rain lately, and the river seemed quite normal. In the late afternoon, I happily curled up in the newly restored guest bedroom with a book, feeling like my flood troubles were over.

But I forgot that in Thailand, expectations and assumptions are generally worthless. So this morning when the phone rang shortly after 8:00am with a co-teacher warning us that the water was coming, I wondered why I had dared to be so optimistic. In fact, there is flooding in 43 of the 76 provinces of Thailand right now, so the only real surprise is that we actually are not yet underwater. Reports are that there is a bizarre convergence of heavy rains with high tides, so Thailand is being deluded from multiple directions, and will be so for another three days.

We spent today – our first official day off together this school break – doing myriad errands, chatting with other neighbors about flood worries, and checking the level of the river near our house every hour or so. (It did not actually reach our house today, though it came within a block or so.) It has gone down nearly two meters since it’s high level of the morning (shown in the photos), but who knows what tonight will bring? We plan to stay at our house to guard our things, unless there are any dramatic changes...

Parents, don’t worry, we have kind neighbors with 2-story houses.

Kids on Bikes

Transportation in Thailand has fascinated me from the first day of our arrival here in January 2005. Before dinner at the training center that evening, Robert and I stood by the side of the highway and watched the parade of vehicles flying by – pickup trucks, motorcycles, songtaews, and strange three-wheeled contraptions we had never seen before.

Kids get to school by means no less interesting. Some arrive on songtaews or the backs of their parents motorcycles. A few ride buses more like ours in America. Some walk. And many, especially elementary school students, arrive with their siblings or friends on bicycles, just like in the photo. It’s a skill they learn from a remarkably young age. I think I did this as a child, when we had "banana seats," before helmets were widespread in America, but I’ve long since forgotten how and I think it always was a little scary anyway. But Thai kids hop on and off all the time, no problem!

Our weather is just a tiny bit cooler this week, at night. Low 70's. It makes a big difference when it’s time to go to sleep! Days are still plenty hot, though.

Satah Banah

Yesterday morning my Tuesday-Friday school had a "satah banah" ceremony. It was the anniversary of the school’s founding. I had been invited to attend, and since it was a Sunday morning I dressed casually only to show up and find out that most everyone else was quite well dressed. Oops!

The ceremony was much like others I have seen. There was a lot of chanting, lots of food was given for the monks to take back to the temple, and special string was tied around everything. One new thing I hadn’t seen before was a bonfire-shaped stand of banana tree branches, under which the principal sat for the duration of the chanting. My co-teacher said that this was to wish him a long life.

The photos show the head monk chanting next to a picture of the King; the principal sitting under the banana leaves; people putting food into the black monk bowls; a selection of food for the monks (sticky rice grains and packaged treats); and the head monk sprinkling the audience with holy water and blessings.