Volume 13

Pondering Laos

We spend so much time looking for answers. Aren’t the questions at least as important as the answers? How come no one is looking for better questions? If they aren’t your questions, how important can the answers be?

Why not enter a landlocked country by boat?

That it took us three days (one by bus, two by boat) to get from Chaing Mai (Thailand) to Luang Praban, only perpetuates the myth that Laos is hard to get to (in fact, we were too cheap to pay for the 45 minute flight). Most of life’s transportation choices come down to time versus money. After years of spending money to save time, it is great to have the time to appreciate the journey and save the money.

Is faster better?

We could have saved a day by choosing a “fast” boat down the Mekong River, but that didn’t seem as glamorous as it might sound. First, imagine the comfort of

Where else can you be a millionaire for $125?

Despite spending thousands for our tickets (8,000 kip=$1), we were not part of the pre-boarding for first-class passengers or frequent-floaters. We were among the last of the approximately 30 passengers (mainly westerners), approximately 30 backpacks, two motorcycles (probably smuggled into the country) and other miscellaneous stuff in the hull of the long, narrow flat-topped boat (standing-up was out of the question). Service was a little lacking (even compared to pathetic standards of US domestic airlines). The float attendants never did come by with the drink cart, (perhaps because there were no stops in the six-hour first day; and the “toilet” involved climbing over all other passengers, motorcycles, and baggage to get to the back of the boat). There was no movie, but we were grateful to have large windows (which served also as doors) to watch the mostly unspoiled hills and shoreline peacefully pass by. Are you addicted to comfort? Safety? Our engine was not what I would describe as quiet, but it was efficiently pleasant compared to the screaming whines of the fast boats that tortured our ears as they passed. Our wooden bench seats had no cushions (to be used as flotation devices in the event of a water landing). This latter point became relevant on the second day when we ran over a log, sheared our propeller and lost power as we approached some large rocks (rapids would be an exaggeration) in the usually calm river. Luck (and whatever navigational help we got from bamboo poles that did not reach bottom) kept us from hitting any rocks, but there were a few tense moments. Interestingly, most of the passengers reacted by gathering their “carry-on” belongings such as cameras and books. My thoughts focused instead on the large windows (emergency exits not denoted by red lights on the cabin floor) should an impromptu swim become necessary.

Does worrying ever help?

It is seldom an encouraging sign when the crewmembers begin jumping overboard. However, in this case four did so with lines in their hands that were eventually used to pull us to shore. After borrowing a spare prop from a passing boat and straightening the 10-foot propeller shaft (by a combination of leverage between trees and pounding with a hammer), we made it to Luang Praban around nightfall. Knowing what I know now, given the same choice, I would definitely choose the slow boat again.

Does anyone else’s opinion matter?

UNESCO recently named Luang Praban a World Heritage Sight (I am still ignorant as to who they are or what that means, but I read/heard it often enough that I thought it should be passed on). For me, Luang Praban epitomized Laos: it was naturally scenic (multiple rivers, waterfalls, hills, cliffs and caves), interestingly cultural (French & Buddhist influences) and very peaceful (not yet crowded or overdeveloped). The city offers a sophisticated café environment in a jungle setting (the wide roads are paved but children still swim naked in the muddy rivers).

Is development good?

Laos has been described as a developing country. What would have seemed touristy in other countries felt somehow more personal and satisfying in Laos. Perhaps that was why we did not feel the urge to venture too far off the main (but not yet beaten) traveler path. We did make it to one relatively remote village (still unspoiled by shops, touts or food shacks), but experienced it with mixed emotions. It was interesting to see and the villagers were curiously friendly, but I felt as though we were invading their space. If people like us keep showing up, it will become spoiled. Villagers will begin to see visitors as meal tickets and visitors will begin to try to change the village (perhaps suggesting that the opium den NOT be right next to the school).

Why are we here?

The next stop on the Laos “circuit” was my favorite: Vang Vieng. What it might have lacked in “world heritage” culture, it made up for in majestic beauty and hands-on things to do and explore. Unquestionably, the best $0.50 I ever spent was invested in an inner tube rental and a taxi ride up the Namsong river. For three hours, we floated down the relatively clear (compared to the brown Mekong) and calm river that wound its way through rice fields along a ridge of rock cliffs that dwarfed us in their ascent to the sky. We enjoyed the float so much we did it again a few days later. At that time we did not know that an Irish traveler had drowned the day before. I still have chills thinking about the abandoned tube we passed, but recognize that death is a part of life that can take any of us at any time. A rumor said the departed traveler could not swim. I wonder if that was true, or just a barrier someone constructed to provide themselves a comfortable layer of separation from death.

Are you living now? Or somewhere in the past or future?

As death brings us to a solemn mood, it is only appropriate to mention Vientienne. Somehow, what the rest of the country does right has managed to escape Laos’ disappointing capital city. It is as if time stopped years ago at a point when the roads were on the verge being paved and the guesthouses were on the verge of being condemned. Still, they charge exorbitant (for southeast Asia) prices as if to tax the travelers for their inevitable demolition (perhaps after the roads are paved). The one treasure we did find was an amazing collection of concrete sculptures in “Buddha Park” The hundreds of statues, structures and images were assembled in a playfully reverent way that was both impressive and fun. Like children in a playground, Carrie and I bounced from sculpture to another mocking it’s posture, climbing its edifice (as was permissible) or just wondering what it was.

Who is in charge?

Laos was the first communist country we have visited (perhaps that explains the state of their capital), but it was not what I expected. My education (indoctrination) always dwelled on the evils of communism. Perhaps that was oversimplified. Sure we had to exchange money in the streets to get a fair rate, but I found at least one argument for state dictated monopolies in the only brand name that most visitors to this country will remember, Beer Laos. That it is good, cheap and available everywhere can account for only some of its popularity with both travelers and locals. It seems to represent everyone’s hope for the future of Laos: a country that can embrace modern ways, but maintain its independent identity.

Who are we to judge?

I read one article in the local paper about how the USA was continuing to send money to Laos ($20 million to date). The article went on to say how the money was spent mainly on building roads. Part of me was proud that our country was helping this country that we once bombed with reckless abandon. Part of me laughed that the war-on-drug funds were supposed to somehow persuade Laotian farmers not to plant opium or marijuana. That we are stupid enough to pay our own farmers not to plant certain crops is crazy enough, that we think that we can control what peasant farmers in remote villages on the other side of the world are planting is absurd.

Any Questions?

Keith