A strange mix of cultures: Luang Prabang

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We arrived in Luang Prabang by plane, because it would have taken too long to take a bus or a boat. Our entire trip, actually, was planned around the timing of this flight. Only one airline, Lao airlines, makes the trip from Siem Reap to Luang Prabang, and it is only every Monday and Thursday. Thus, we had to fly out on a Monday. The plane we took was extremely small, only 60 seats. My fear of motion sickness kicked in immediately, and Ally had to calm me down as I hesitantly stepped onto the plane. The flight, ironically, went quite smoothly, and even though we had to stop in Pakse for 25 minutes, everything was just fine.

We arrived in Laos around 5 PM, but we had to stand in line to get our visas. Laos, like Cambodia, requires travel visas, and the price for Americans was steep, 35 US dollars. We left the airport with visas in hand, and went to find a taxi into town. The price for taxis from the airport was standard for all modes of transportation: 5 US dollars. Fortuantely, we found two travelers from Belgium who were looking to go to the center of town, and looking for a hostel (as were we) so we all went together.

A new problem presented itself as we got into the car. The Belgian woman with whom we shared a taxi told us that she had already tried 3-4 guesthouses, and they were all full. We asked the cab driver to drive us to a hostel that he thought may have room. He tried two different hostels, and both were booked. He then dropped us off near an allyway which he said had many hostels, and that we were bound to find one.

We went asking hostel after hostel, and all of them were completely booked. FInally, one foreigner told us that every 10 minutes there were people wandering near here, and that we wouldn't find a hostel in town. We should look to the outskirts. With our heavy backpacks on our backs, Ally, the Belgian tourists, and I set off to the outskirts of town.

As we were walking, we began calling more guesthouses in the Lonely Planet. After calling about 10 more, and walking into another 20, we finally found a hostel that had one room available. The Belgian couple continued to ask around for one for us. We were unable to find one, so they offered to share their room with us for one night. When we arrived at their hostel, we asked the people there if we could share with them, and they agreed, but the Belgian couple seemed a bit hesitant to share their room (I assume that in offering they were just being polite). I could see in their faces they did not want to share their room, so we asked the desk if they could call some other guesthouses. They made a few phone calls and found another guesthouse with one empty room: a steep 25 US dollars for one double bed. By that time, however, it was nearly 9:30, and we were exhausted, so we would take any room we could find.

We asked the people at the guesthouse to write down the name of the hostel at which they had made us a reservation. However, once we hopped in the tuk tuk, they took us to the wrong guesthouse. We then had to go inside another guesthouse, ask them to find us a new tuk tuk. Finally, by around 10:30, we had a room at a guesthouse. It was very nice, and they made us dinner, but very overpriced. So we took advantage of the amenities it offered (such as a nice hot shower and free breakfast with fresh fruit) and went to find a new guesthouse the next morning. We learned an important lesson that night: make a reservation for a guesthouse during peak travel times, or show up before 8 at night.

The next morning we awoke for a pleasant breakfast. The people who owned this guesthouse were a family with two teenage boys, both of which were very interested to talk with me and Ally. They asked us many questions about where we were from and where we had been on our travels. As we left for the day, they asked us to come back and visit them again before we left.

We found a new guesthouse almost immediately that morning (timing is everything I assume) for only 8 US dollars, and we each got our own bed. We dropped our things off, and decided to go exploring around the town of Luang Prabang. The main reason I wanted to go to Laos was for its outdoor activities, such as kayaking, white water rafting, and elephant riding. Therefore, as we set off for town, my first priority was finding a tour where we could go rafting and elephant riding. This turned out to be easier than I thought; there were countless travel agencies next door to each other on the central street in town that were competing for business, and all of them were willing to create a personalized tour for us. For only 25 US dollars, we planned a day of kayaking and elephant riding, which included lunch and a visit to a minority village.

After that was taken care of, we went exploring the town. The people of Laos were not as friendly as Cambodia, but they were also not as forceful. People didn't approach us at every step trying to sell us things, but instead just smiled at back at us. It was clearly a very relaxed environment, where people were just enjoying life. We went to a market where they sold handmade Lao textiles. The salespeople spoke little English, but we had our Lonely Planet phrasebook handy, and they were definately amused by foreigners trying to speak their language, even if it was just words like "what is this?" and "beautiful." We enjoyed the speed of this town.

After we walked through the market, we went to get food from a cafe. Luang Prabang is famous for its blend of French colonialism and Lao indigenous culture. The environment of the town was certainly a Southeast Asian environment, with palm trees, friendly people, dirt roads, and Buddhist monks walking the streets. Nevertheless, one could see this environment in a french cafe sipping coffee and eating french pasteries. The architecture was also different from other Southeast Asian towns I had seen before, although the Royal Palace museum and the various monasteries around town were certainly of the Southeast Asian architectural style. For lunch that afternoon we ate Lao glass noodle soup and banana chocolate cake.

We wandered off the main street into some of the more residential areas where children were running around playing, and their parents were doing housework. We ran straight into the Mekong river, which ran right alongside the town. What then captivated our interest was a group of young Buddhist monks, no older than 13-14, playing and swimming in the water. We sat down quietly behind the trees watching them as they played and yelled. I laughed to myself as I realized how different this was from western religion; I couldn't imagine a group of Catholic nuns playing in the river. It was so neat to see how very similar all people are regardless of background; everyone likes to relax, play, and enjoy life. We sat on the beaches of the river for about an hour chatting and enjoying the afternoon sun. Finally, we decided it was time to head back.

The only plans we had for that day was to go to the night market in the center of town. It was a pretty extensive market considering the size of Luang Prabang. All along the streets were homemade tablecloths, clothing, bags, and jewelry, plus lesser known souvenirs such as homemade slippers, handpainted notebooks, and beautiful handwoven scarfs. Ally and I spent quite a bit of money shopping at the Laos market. After that, we bought ourselves a nice meal at one of the more famous restaurants in town. We ate traditional Laos soup, deepfried bamboo sticks stuffed with pork, and spicy chicken curry. We ended our meal with banana chocolate pancakes and local Laos lychee wine. We then headed back to prepare ourselves for our full day ahead of us.

The next morning, after rushing around to get ready because our shower was broken and we had to exchange more money to pay for our tour, we somehow were on time when the people at Tiger Travel Services came to pick us up at 8:30. We then picked up some more people going on our tour with us, a French family of four. Ally and I sat in the back of an old dirty truck for about an hour as we clunked down dirt roads towards the village where we would start our tour. We were dropped off at the edge of the Nam Khan river, where we were then asked to cross a very formiddible looking bridge made of bamboo. Hesitantly we walked quickly across it, although the fact that the father in the French family crossed before us made us feel much more confident; if it was going to break, it would break with him first. As we crossed, we saw many village people fishing in the river. They looked at us and waved, but they didn't seem particularly surprised to see us there. Our tour guide explained to us that foreigners often come to this village, so they were used to seeing non-Laos people.

When we arrived in the village, whose residents were a mix of Hmong people (a Southeast Asian minority group) and Laos people, we found out there was only one elephant, and only 3 people could ride it. Therefore, the parents of the French family and their son went to ride first, and their daughter, who was only a few years younger than us and spoke English, decided to come with Ally and me.

Our guide then took us on a tour of the village, and taught us a bit about the village itself. The village consisted of three groups of people: the Hmong people, Lao people, and another hill tribe minority group. The Hmong people live highest in the hills, and have historically been the least friendly to tourists (our guide told us a story of some Hmong people who, a few years ago, shot some tourists for money). They migrated to Southeast from China, where they resided for nearly 2000 years before. Now, they are beginning to be assimilated into society, but they are largely persecuted by the various Southeast Asian government. During the communist takeover in Laos, many fled to Thailand, but in the 1990's were repatriated back into Lao society. They are largely displaced all over Thailand, Laos, Burma, and Vietnam; yet they are beginning to become part of those respective societies.

Our guide showed us some of the houses, and the schools. In the school, there were only 3 classrooms, and they were only for primary school. They children studied mathematics, Lao, and some English. Many of the grades had to be combined because of the lack of classrooms, and they had to travel even farther for secondary school. I never realized how many people throughout the world lack something as simple as primary and secondary education when I take it for granted.

As we were walking about the village, we ran across a little girl who was no older than the age of four, and she was very excited to see us. She waved at us non-stop for over a minute, and was yelling "falang! falang!" which means "foreigners." She was clearly very happy to see us.

Our guide then took us to a nearby house to take a rest. He gave us an authentic Southeast Asian breakfast of sticky rice and seaweed crackers. He told us we could have sandwiches for lunch, but he would be happiest with a basket of sticky rice. It was good, but the sauce they dipped it in was spicy. He then picked a fresh chili pepper from the tree and dared us to try it. Ally, my Korean friend who is used to spicy food, ate a bite with no problem. I ate a much smaller bite than she did, but I have never felt so much pain in my mouth before. I felt like something had exploded in my mouth. I told them I was just fine, but I don't think they believed me with my red face, tear filled eyes, and open mouth. I had to drink an entire bottle of water afterwards, and even then my stomach was so upset I couldn't eat anymore sticky rice.

After my pridicament with the pepper, it was our turn to ride the elephant. The elephant was trained to kneel down on all four knees, and then a small ladder was pushed up to the side to help us climb on. It was an eerie feeling as the elephant slowly walked through the jungle. I was frightened at first, but mostly because I felt I was about to fall; it turns out that was more than a feeling, the seat wasn't on straight. So after about 5 minutes we had to climb back down as the elephant trainer adjusted the seat, and then we went on our way. It made me sad to see how they controlled the elephant, though. The trainer, who rode on the elephant's head as we were on his back, had a wooden stick with a sharp hook at the end which he drove into the elephant's head whenever he wanted the elephant to kneel. The elephant trumpeted in pain every time he did this; I suppose that all elephants are trained like this at some point, but I never thought I would witness it like this.

We first wandered through the Nam Khan river, and the elephant waded through the water. We then meandered on a set path through large palm trees, grassy fields with small huts, and even big piles of mud. I enjoyed the scenery, but the way the elephant moved made me very naseous. I kept myself concentrated on the fact that I was actually riding an elephant, which kept my stomach moderately stable for the ride. I have to admit, however, that I was happy to have my feet on dry ground.

One of the more humorous incidents that occurred was when we ran into a herd of goats who were out for their morning meal. I'm not sure if it was the goats or the bells around their collars, but the elephant was clearly afraid of them. Whenever he heard the goats coming, he walked much faster to escape them. It made me giggle to see such a large creature act so small.

After our elephant ride, we sat together to have lunch, which was prepared sandwiches and papaya. I was still really sick from the elephant ride, so I ate very little of our lunch. We then walked one again across the shaky bamboo bridge where 4 kayaks awaited us, 3 double kayaks and one single. Ally and I put on our life jackets and hopped into a double. The two French children climbed into another, and the mother and father into the third. Our guide took the single.

The members of the French family had been kayaking before, and each of them had a man in their kayaks; thus, Ally and I, of whom neither had ever been kayaking, lagged far behind the rest. Ally then said she wanted to try the single kayak, so her and the tour guide switched. This arrangement turned out much better, as I had to do very little (our guide did most of the paddling) and Ally seemed to have a much easier time in the single boat. Half way through, we switched and I took the single boat, which I also enjoyed more than the double.

We had a lot of fun laughing and rowing down the river, and for the first few hours of our trip, it was very smooth waters. As we moved down, our tour guide began to teach us Lao. The phrase he wanted us to learn most was the phrase "Mo pinyang" which roughly translates to "don't worry, its nothing." As it turns out, the same phrase in Thai sounds very similar, and our tour guide was not the first to teach it to us. Many people we encountered taught us that phrase first, which to me reflects the attitude of Southeast Asian people. While they have, in recent history, encountered more problems and hardships than most, they are a happy satisfied people who do not understand the point of getting worked up over small things. To everything, instead of getting upset, its "Mo Pinyang."

We wound our way down the river, and the landscape was breathtaking. We were not only able to enjoy a shining sun over a clear river surrounded by lush greenery, but we also got to see some wildlife and local villagers. There were many people on long boats filled with rocks, and they always had 2 people. One person rowed the boat while the other used a bucket to scoop water out of the boat to keep it from sinking. Our guide explained to us that they were collecting rocks from the bottom of the river to use for building new and improved stone houses, guesthouses, and public buildings.

We also saw many people fishing in the river, and even sewing fish nets on the shore. There were also a plethora of children along the coast swimming and playing, and others were running into the river with handfuls of shampoo to take a bath. It was such an interesting sight, and something I thought I would only read about in National Geographic.

Another fun sight as we kayaked down the river were the water buffalo, which were sporadically placed along the river. Many water buffalo were lazily drifting into the river to keep cool on that hot day, some of them almost completely submerged in the water. I was surprised how close we could come towards them in our boats.

We kayaked for about 4 hours before we stopped along the shore to see a special sight. Henri Mouhot was a French explorer who discovered the Mekong river in the 19th century. On his travels, however, he accumulated more than experience and knowledge; he also accumulated malaria. He died near Luang Prabang, and his grave was along the river side. We stopped there, mostly for the French family in our tour, to see his grave.

After our short stop, we continued onward down the rapids of the river. The sun wsa beginning to set, and we were getting rather cold. However, after another hour and a half, we reached the end of our journey; a small Lao village near the airport, only 20 minutes outside of Luang Prabang. We had to wait for awhile for our car to come and pick us up, so we wandered into the nearby village.

While looking around the village, we very quickly attracted the attention of some small children, who came over to us, stood in a group, and started waving. We asked them if we could take pictures of them, and they eagerly agreed. They stood against the fence vigorously waving at us yelling "Sabaidee" which means hello. I assume they knew this was the only word we really understood. They then graduated to saying "Hello" and "Thank you falang." Nevertheless, they very much enjoyed getting their picture taken. We would take their pictures, and then they would gather around to see the picture in the screen.

One small child came up to me, and I put my hand out to him. He hit my hand lightly, and giggled. Seeing that I had no problem with that, he hit me again, and again and again. He then began slapping me with both hands and giggling, and his friend began to notice. Before I knew it, I had 7-8 children laughing and slapping my hands. It was such a neat experience, they all were so happy and cute.

After about 20 minutes, our car came to pick us up. They drove us back to our guesthouse, which was in some ways a relief; it was night time and we were still completely soaked. However, we quickly got dressed and walked back into town.

We went the night market once again to get souvenirs we didn't buy the first night. Ally wanted to buy a traditional Lao skirt, which is like a long sheet that wraps around your body. They are beautiful, but they looked uncomfortable to me. They seemed very confining, and even Ally had trouble walking in them or taking long steps. Somehow, though, the girls of Laos do everything from run to ride bicycles in them. I wanted to buy some pairs of homemade slippers, with cute Lao made designs on them. Ally spent a long time at the market, while I bought what I wanted and then went to an internet cafe to relax and connect with the digital world. After Ally had bought all her souvenirs, we were exhausted from our long night, so we went to get traditional Lao massages.

Lao massages, like Thai massages, are rougher than the massages we are used to in the west. They involve a lot of stretching and pressure. It made me a bit nervous, however, because, unlike in Thai massages, they didn't give us shirts to wear. Instead we lay on our back with only pants on. They also used oil on our backs, which was very soothing. Southeast Asian masseuses in general tend to go to areas that are more private than western ones, but because the places we went were highly recommended by tourism boards, I didn't think we were in any dangerous places. Ally really enjoyed hers; I felt mine was too rough after such a hard day, so I looked forward to the end. After our massage, we paid our 5 US dollars, and then went to find something to eat.

Unfortuantely, our massage ended right around 11, and all the shops were closed. Having been sick when we ate lunch earlier that day, I was starving, so I was a bit frustrated. The only thing open were 24 hour sandwich stands, where little old ladies with grilled chicken, cream cheese, baked baguettes, and an assortment of fresh veggies and condiments sold made to order sandwiches. Fortunately, they were quite delicious. After our long day, we walked back to our guesthouse and went to bed.

Luang Prabang was a small town, but nearly 1000 Buddhist monks lived there. Every morning the monks walked through town asking for the daily alms, or sticky rice, which would be their first meal of the day. We thought this would be a neat thing to see, so we got up at 5:30 in the morning and set out to give our part to the Buddhist community of the town.

At first, we had trouble finding food to give; once we got into town, however, there were many eager business women with sets of sticky rice (which included a basket and several smaller bunches wrapped in banana leaves) for sale. We bought one set each, and the woman who sold it to us laid out mats for us on the ground. We then waited for the monks to come.

We were not the only tourists with this idea. Several other tourists from many different places shared our corner of the street. And with the tourists came incessant picture taking. I admit, I took far more pictures than I care to admit on my trip. However, I felt a bit frustrated when Chinese tourists (at 5:30 in the morning, remember) randomly jumped right next to me and smiled, and suddenly there was a bright flash in my face. Many people were taking pictures of the people all on the corner of the street, and since I was on the end, many of them began with me. My real frustration, however, didn't begin until the monks came. Suddenly, many people (and though I hate to admit it, the most irritating of which were Chinese) were forcing their cameras into the Monk's face to take their pictures, and jumping in and out of their line to do so. They didn't even give any alms; they only came to take pictures.

This was a bit of a moral dilemma for me, as I took pictures at this event as well. I did, however, participate in the ritual, and while the monks were on my side of the street, I put my camera away. It was only after they had passed that I took pictures of them across the street, and as we were leaving, far down the street (as you can see to the side). After I realized how frustrated and offended I was about the others taking pictures, I realized that in a way, I took advantage of them. Had no one been taking pictures, I probably would not have either. Nevertheless, I felt I was respectful in my picture taking, and I also gave to the monks. Its a quandry that my mind and my conscience have yet to solve.

After we gave to the monks, we wandered back to our room to get ready. We both took showers, and by 9 we walked out the door again to get breakfast. We had a modest breakfast (as we were both short on money) of coconut flavored sticky rice, eggs, and fresh fruit. Our plan for the day, before we caught our flight to Thailand, was to go to the Luang Prabang history museum, and to one of the temples. At the market two nights before, Ally had met a Monk who recognized her as Korean, and was learning her language. He gave her the name of his temple, and asked us to come and visit.

The Luang Prabang museum was modest, but this was due to the fact that Luang Prabang has a relatively short history. As told from the museum, it was only a prominent town when the French founded it, and has really been made famous lately through tourism. While Lao people lived there before, it was almost entirely rural communities; thus ancient artifacts were scarce, and little was told of ancient Lao culture. The one exception was large drums from the 10th century which were used for tribal ceremonial processions.

The security regulations were far more strict than they should have been for such a small museum, but nevertheless we were forced to leave all hats, jackets, purses, and cameras at the gate. The museum itself also served as a royal palace for when the royal family stayed in Luang Prabang, and was only built this century. The inside was beautifully decorated with colored glass that depicted tales from Lao mythology. Despite the interior decorating, however, the presence of French Colonialism was ubiquitous, with everything from the china used at imperial dinners, the clothing worn, and the furniture in the royal bedroom. The museum still  presented both sides of the story, showing the town during French occupation, and the Lao tradition that still thrives. In particular, I found interesting a 16 painting story that told one of the important Buddhist legends in Luang Prabang. Every monastery in the town has a version of that story.

After wandering through the museum, we took a tuk tuk to our friend's monastery. At first we were worried that we would not be able to find him, but ironically, he was at the gate waiting for us. We chatted with him for nearly an hour. He told us how he very much wanted to travel the world to study, but didn't have the money. He taught younger students, but his income was less than 20 US dollars a month. However, the monastery offered a good education, as most of the monks could speak English, Japanese, Thai, and Lao, and were also learning Chinese and Korean. He also gave us his e-mail address, which showed he had ready access to computers.

It turns out that his monastery was connected to one of the greater tourists sights in town, a large mountain with a monastery at the top. We climbed to the top to catch a breathtaking view of the Mekong river, and a small temple supposedly holding the Buddha's footprint set in stone. As we looked around and took pictures, our friend made us small gifts out of long palm leaves, such as a small soccer ball and a little fish. We exchanged e-mails, took many pictures, and said goodbye to our monastic friend.

Despite the kayaking, elephant riding, getting up early, and crazy shopping, this was one of the most relaxing parts of our trip. The atmosphere forces a feeling of calm and quietude, as no one in Laos is in a hurry. Everyone was perfectly content, happy, and enjoying life as they watched it pass by. There was clearly no hostility towards foreigners, but no desire to take advantage of us either. They saw us as a part of their community, and they welcomed us. I also found the mix of the Southeast Asian attitude with an air of France quite fascinating. It had the serenity of a small community in Asia, and a small countryside village in rural Europe. However, I feel like I learned a lot from them, and it made me not only more interested in the town, but also serene and happy as well. The feeling of the town is contagious, and you can't help but feel peace as you come and go.