Luxury in Laos

Sometimes the voyeuristic aspects of travel leave me uncomfortable. We just witnessed a profound and interesting early morning event, in Luang Prabang, the morning procession of monks. They walk the street, single file, while people deposit alms into their bowls. Their large metal containers, almost soccer ball size with woven shoulder straps, are slowly filled with bananas, handfuls of hot sticky rice, packages of biscuits, money, and morsels of food wrapped in banana leaves. They are a ribbon of colour, snaking along in their bright orange robes, some mere boys, a yellow sash depicting the novice from the more practiced. It is cold enough outside for me to have on a jacket and hat, but they walk barefoot on the road, shoulders, arms and shaved head all exposed. I read at one of the temples that they have very few possessions: robes, bowl, an umbrella, bag, some sleeping basics. It reminds us of the display we saw in Delhi at the Gandhi museum – the small glass case that housed his few possessions before he was assassinated. This austerity and devotion is humbling and thought provoking. It is easy to romanticize!

Of course, this is a bit of a tourist attraction. There is a picture of a line of monks in the Lonely Planet guidebook. People appear on the still-dark streets as early as 6am. The monks first appear shortly thereafter. As soon as I stepped out our entryway, I was approached by 3 or 4 local women, each with a small basket of food that I could then give to the monks. Their almost desperate pleas to buy (a small basket costs about 1.20$) I could not refuse. These are poor people, and most tourists simply say no. So I too joined in the giving, kneeling on a mat (men stand and women kneel) feeling a bit awkward. Once my offerings ran out, I joined the throng of photographers all striving for a good photo of this daily ritual. I’m a bit embarrassed that I too would get caught up in this somewhat shallow quest feeling all too much like a cheap voyeur. We have to be up early tomorrow morning, in time to witness the event again, and I have vowed to keep camera in bag!

 

Likewise when we visited a village on the Mekong. We signed up for a 2 day trip to Kamu Lodge – a 3+ hour slow boat ride up river. We purchased this short “tour” mostly on the positive impression of a guesthouse operator we met while searching out a room (even though we did not stay at his house). Most guesthouses will book and organize tours for patrons (to say nothing of the many tour operator offices, or tuk-tuk drivers willing to sell packages or take people to attractions), many have promo brochures, or signs, one of which caught our attention. After finding a lovely, clean, bright comfortable room (sometimes an extra bit of money goes a long way in the enjoyment factor) we returned to “our man” to discuss trips. He was adamant that we should come to Kamu Lodge to learn about life in a Laos village. Our trip up the muddy, sediment laden, Mekong was memorable (if not chilly): hills rising all around (I’m thinking 1500 feet), jungle, an occasional village, the slow-boat pleasure of water just slipping by, delightful conversation with a young German couple (travel, photography, and microscope optics!), even the hot Nescafe package coffee (creamer and sugar all in – what I’ve come to call “candy coffee”) enhanced the ride. We’d see people (not many though) planting crops along the flood plain, out in boats most likely tending nets, and women washing clothing. We also watched tourists, at one spot, descend the river banks to return to their boats after a village tour. This is a big river and major form of transportation – boats rim the shore, big and small and all sizes in-between, and Barry is intrigued by its potential cultural and economic significance. And then we arrived at our “Kamu Lodge Experience”. Large safari-style tents (20 in total), soft beds laden with comforters, an open-air dining room perched among rice paddies. Quite luxurious and picturesque, in a jungle sort-of-way. I’m not too sure what we expected; our receipt said “farm homestay”. Hmmm – well there are rice fields, and water buffalo, but it is hard to imagine where the word “farm” came from. Everyone else staying here (we’ve all arrived by boat) is on their Christmas vacation and most on some sort of pre-arranged tour. Regardless, the jungle is quiet, deeply quiet. Quiet in a way that is different from all our previous camping adventures, possibly because there is only water access. As my mind evaluates and judges, my body responds on its own and the calmness settles into my bones. Being in this physical place soothes at a visceral level. Plus the lush green of vegetation is beauty to my eye. This makes the trip “worth” the money.

Across the small area of rice terracing at the lodge, we see the local village – a visit part of our tour package (these glimpses into village life are marketed all over SE Asia). We visited, I felt like an intruder. We walked to the shop (there where smiles when I bought some handicrafts), and school under the somewhat wary eyes of the villagers. Tourists come here regularly, I assume, and are possibly paraded through this village quite often, if not daily. What must this cultural equivalent of a “zoo” feel like?  Our guide (who came with us from Luang Prabang) explained that the Kamu people who live here (a sub-set of 1 of the 4 major ethnic groups that live in Laos – according to the Traditional Arts and Ethnology Centre display in LPB) are actually traditionally hilltop peoples. A different Laos tribe lived here before and moved to the city – possibly in search of better jobs and money. The government then resettled the hill tribe peoples into this village where there is a primary school. No move – no school. Still, villagers must pay to send the children, buy uniforms and supplies. Apparently only 20% of children attend, and then must go to the nearby town to continue with secondary school, which further decreases attendance. I loved seeing the school (and can’t wait to show photos to my WDCS students); it really was interesting – but also a bit weird, and certainly a little uncomfortable. The school teacher brought the children across the small bridge to the lodge in the evening to sing and dance for us, a highlight for Barry (he is a sucker for kids – which is also why he overpaid a bunch of youngster selling bracelets for their school, so they said). They sang with obvious enthusiasm, especially the boys, accompanied by their teacher’s drumming and dancing by the girls. I believe the intent is 2 fold: keep traditional culture alive while earning tips from the travelers, which translates into money for a school. And so, here in the hills of rural Laos, our cultures intersect.

 

 

kamu Lodge - our "bungalow"

 

 

 

We did a few, interesting, fun, activities to gain a deeper understanding into their life. Barry planted some rice, calf deep in squishy mud. We tried our hand at some ‘archery” with these very cool, handmade small, wooden cross bows. These are still used to hunt small birds and “mice” (I’m thinking rat based on the size our guide showed me with his hands). We took 2 fishing nets down to the water; round, maybe 10’ in diameter, the edge threaded with a relatively heavy chain for weight. Some of us had lessons in how to throw it into the water (first practicing on the sand), which involved quite a bit of precise hand positioning, where it would quickly sink and trap fish. Ask Barry how hard this was – but he did kinda’ get the hang of it. Fishing is a big part of food acquisition here, and we also watched 2 young-looking boys string a drop net from shore to sand bar. Surprisingly, we also watched one of the staff pan for gold using a conical-shaped wooden bowl. Fill with gravel and sand and just keep swishing water around. This is a regular activity in March and April when the river is at its lowest, and apparently some families can earn 20-30$ per day doing this. Our demonstration actually yielded a few specks of gold, although none of us “falangs” would ever have spotted them on our own. Some village boys sat somewhat expressionlessly in the sand watching our antics.

Luang Prabang, a French colony until the ‘50s, UNESCO World Heritage and Cultural site as of 1995, feels luxurious. It is in northern Democratic People's Republic of Laos. This is an easy city to be in. We stay in the old city, among remnants of French influence (architecture, croissants and baguette sandwiches, locals sometimes address us in French). We can walk everywhere, and easily, or rent a peddle bike for 2.50$ a day. We have visited the 2 key temples, Wat Xieng Thong (built 1560, incredible Tree of Life mosaic on its back wall), Wat Wisunarat with its impressive collection of “Calling for Rain Buddhas” (which is all about posture) and other artifacts, the Tam Ting, or Pak Ou, caves on the Mekong full of Buddha statues placed on dim ledges and rock (a place of pre-Buddhist worship for over 3000 years, I am told, the 1^st king of Laos brought the first Buddha statue here in the 13^th century), plus the Royal Palace. We visit shops (yes, we can pick up cheap good here in Asia, but fair-trade shopping is readily available and preferred. Still cheap by Western standards…. but a little costly given our daily budget!). The textiles and carvings are beautiful. There are great restaurants along the river, and a tasty noodle soup can be had for less than 2 dollars. A real cheap dinner treat has been the vegetarian buffet at the night market: load up a plate with vegetables, pumpkin, green beans, tofu, rice or various noodles. Maybe add some battered and deep fried potato, aubergine, and banana. Hand to the man who then dumps the whole thing into his sizzling wok and heats it all up for you! Add some fresh papaya and a cold spring roll and head to the outdoor tables that line the street running off the market. One plate costs 1.25$ as does a “big” Beerlao (640ml). The 2^nd night we feasted this cheaply, we also met a great couple from Wales, he a youth worker and she manager of a shop that sells wooden carvings. We meet many people, all good, but every once in a while are truly treated to what feels like real connection. Fruit salad with yogurt and muesli never tasted so good: papaya, mango, banana, watermelon, apple, Asian pear, dragon fruit. It is cool morning and evenings but we have what we need to stay warm. The ultralight down jacket I purchased in San Fran is getting regular use along with my fleece toque and gloves (by noon it will be warm enough for possibly shorts and a T-shirt), which allows us to comfortably continue this al-fresco dining. I would recommend this city to anyone.

 

Four shots above - Wat Xieng Thong

 

Wat Wisunarat

Barry took this photos so that he could add the caption "cat on a hot tin roof".
Made me laugh!

For Marilyn. When we tell people we are from Canada, most ask if we are
from Quebec.

Morning breakfast and coffee spot.

Fellow teachers from Canada - both working in Hong Kong. Great "shop talk" -
lovely couple.

Our Christmas dinner might be worth a mention. On a slight high after Skyping our kids in the morning, I was keen to celebrate just a little. We went to a restaurant written up in the Lonely Planet that was advertising a Christmas BBQ dinner (traditional Laos style), Lao Lao Gardens. The place was a cross between funky and tacky: Christmas lights strung among tropical trees, loud familiar Christmas music, Christmas hats on staff, and a big conical tree of lights in the back. This restaurant goes back, and then back. We walked up steps taking us to both higher and deeper levels. We did not eat the special meal but had a delicious chicken with ginger and basil, rice, and mixed vegetables. Beer, a strawberry mojito, and some salted redskins (roasted with kaffir lime leaves and garlic), sitting around the ‘campfire” in the middle of the floor, chatting with local travelers left us feeling the Christmas spirit so far from home. A very good Christmas day. 

We’ve been here about 6 days total, and tonight fly to Hanoi. While I think infrastructure for travel is less well developed here in Laos, this is a country I, for one, would come back to. The people seem gentle, if reserved. It has been a mirror to face my “traveler’s guilt”, once again, but also somehow spawned a respect, or gratitude, for our common humanity. Our Kamu Lodge guide, Lod, carries a mesh, bamboo case onto the boat. It houses a live chicken he carries home to his almost 2 year old daughter. I carry home my version of gifts.