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Slowing it down…

Tuesday, December 2nd, 2008

Things move slowly in Laos, and we are following suit! Tomorrow will mark our fifth day in Luang Prabang, and while we’ll soon need to tear ourselves away, we really have no desire to.

 The bus ride to Laos was slow, but uneventful, thanks in no small part to the time of year! November marks the beginning of the cool/dry season; the 8 hours of winding, unpaved mountain road that led us here would’ve have been virtually impassable a month ago (evidenced by an uncountable number of recent landslides!). The lack of A/C on a rickety, incredibly crowded bus wouldn’t have been very nice either…I welcomed the morning chill!

We saw nothing but small thatch villages the entire way; aside from the border crossing (strangely modern, having only opened to foreigners a year ago), there was nearly no sign of modern development until we reached Muang Khua.

Modern development is stretching it, actually. We piled out of the bus on the side of the river and were loaded with faarrrr too many other people into tiny wooden longboats and ferried across the small stretch of water. Muang Khua has one road, one market, a handful of guesthouses, three identical restaurants and electricity for three hours per day (the whole town is run on a generator). We found a nice, clean room with hot water (during those three hours, of course) and ended up staying a day. The transition from Vietnam to Laos couldn’t have been better – we didn’t hear a single honk, barely saw a single motorbike and definitely weren’t sold anything. The restaurants were a bit pricey, as the locals have no use for them, but the return to soup-less foods was welcome and we also soon discovered a tom mahk hung (papaya salad, or somtum in Thailand) vendor in the market whom we frequented!

After a day of walking around the surrounding villages and enjoying the first run I’ve had in Asia where I not only had an entire road, all to myself, but had a gorgeous mountain and tree-lined background to boot, we boarded another bus made for midgets (or at least not those with “Europe legs”) and endured the 10 hours to Luang Prabang. Aside from a transfer point in Udomxai, one of the only towns with an ATM in the entire country, we saw nothing but rural countryside and small thatch villages full of smiley people the entire way. The roads were virtually traffic-free and the vehicles that we did see didn’t engage in horn-blowing competitions or defy death by driving on the wrong side – orderliness that  I didn’t know could exist in this part of the world!

We arrived around 7 in Luang Prabang and were assured by a friendly monk and fellow bus companion that we were not being gouged for the tuktuk ride – everyone paid the same. We were dropped in the center (though it turns out that this entire place is the center, it’s tiny!) and warned that guesthouses tend to be full at night – many falang! We brushed it off, as we’ve never arrived anywhere and not had someone pulling us to their place within 30 seconds – all you have to do is look white and carry a backpack!

Alas, no one came. We started walking down the spotless main street, full of beautiful old French shophouses full of candlelit restaurants, bars, handicraft stores and foreigners. Guesthouses were abundant and we turned into the first one – “sorry, full!” became the tune of the evening. Everyone was full! The few that we found with space (and many of those without) wanted anywhere from $30-60 for a room – where were we??

 It turns out that we were in one of the nicest cities out there. Eventually we came across a kid at an alley guesthouse who said that it was full, but that his father would give a ride to their other guesthouse, which had a room for $12. That’s on the high side of what we’ve ever paid, but it seemed to be typical here and we were more than ready for a home! We were tuktuk-ed to a pristine place with hardwood floors, a huge comfy bed and no flourescent lights. Seriously, where were we?? We soon headed the direction of the huge night market and found a row of vendors serving up everything from vegetarian buffets to spring rolls to grilled sticky rice to barbequed everything. We bought the world’s most incredible grilled chicken (on a bamboo skewer of course) then snacked around before retiring, saving further exploration for the next day.

 Unfortunately, our pristine guesthouse had an extremely tempermental hot-water (non)heater, unacceptable with such cold nights. The next morning we set out to find a new place, and quickly found a beautiful riverfront house and were shown to a corner room with nothing outside the wooden shutters but palm trees and breezes. Perfect! The day commenced, and we found yet more papaya salad for breakfast before spending the day wandering around, browsing handicraft shops, discovering all of the responsible development initiatives (lots of efforts to revive traditional handicrafts and practices, which are dying out with younger generations) and lazing by the river. We capped off the day with a painting-like sunset and a few Beer Laos on the Mekong – see photos!

Day two was similar, though we capped off the night with some traditional snake wine (seriously, a jar of rice whiskey with a giant cobra curled up in the bottom) – this is a place where you just sit back, relax and smile. The weather is beyond perfect, chilly at night and warm during the day without a cloud in sight. Everything is so well-maintained, the architecture/land/flowers/river are out of a dream, the people are beyond friendly, want nothing from you and it’s the first place we’ve visited where hoardes of foreigners seem like a positive thing. Not one annoyance befallen us yet.

Yesterday we set out on some mountain bikes (very expensive, in an effort to keep traffic levels low) for Kuangsi Waterfall, a mere 35 km away. It was a bit hilly, but very doable, and the two hours of countryside and ecstatic schoolkids swarming us for high-fives (scary when they come from both sides!) made us both happy that we weren’t in a tuktuk. We finally reached the falls, more than ready for the picnic we’d packed! It was a beautiful area, the water a brilliant turquoise, and we spent a couple of hours relaxing and writing.

We were supposed to have the bikes back at five, so we re-boarded all too soon (where did I leave those padded shorts? And why did I think it was a good idea to run beforehand?) and Gabe soon found out that expensive does not mean maintained! His bikes kept slipping in and out of gears, and kept getting worse. Finally, with 10km to go, it was done. We figured we’d have to flag down a tuktuk or a truck, but pushed on in the meantime, walking up hills and coasting down them. Eventually we got it to work (maybe that’s too strong a term) and somehow made it back to the city before dark. By that point our exhaustion levels allowed for nothing but dinner and sleep!

Today called for rest and replenishment, so we signed up for a cooking class with a place called Tamarind Cafe, which turned out to be excellent. There were about ten people in our group, with an abnormally high percentage of Americans (seriously people, start travelling!), including a great older couple from Austin. There was a great group dynamic and everyone hit it off as they took us to Phousy market for an hour of extremely informative explanations of Lao spices, cooking methods, traditional practices and opportunities to sample.

We were later taken to a scenic riverside spot where the outdoor cooking class was set up. We were greeted with a tray of lemongrass-ginger tea and then began by learning how to prepare khao nieow (sticky rice), the quintessential Laos food and eating utensil (traditionally, they don’t touch regular rice and foods are never made oily or soupy for this reason). The entire day was done with a mortar/pestle, “barbeques” made out of clay pots, bamboo steamers, a knife and a cutting block. There is no garbage or waste in Laos food – ingredients are whole, banana leaves serve as packaging, bamboo as fasteners.

By 4:00 we had made khao nieow, mok ba (fish and herbs steamed in banana leaves – unspeakably good), chicken/lemongrass “meatballs”, laab (a meat/mint salad that is my all-time favorite Asian food), a stew called orlam, several jeow (spicy eggplant and tomato dipping sauces) and were treated to drinks of lemon lao-lao (whiskey distilled from sticky rice) and pineapple to cap it all off. I couldn’t move by the end, and it felt great!

Actually, I still can’t move, which is why this blog is being written! I was definitely mistaken in claiming that Lao food is the same as Thai – both are delicious, but certainly very different. Lao food has never really been “discovered,” as it’s a landlocked country with no ports and, historically, no foreign trade. Luckily, it will soon be found in Austin and all of you, our dear friends and family, will be treated to more than a few dinner parties (we’ve got some great outdoor “kitchen” ideas…)!

I’ll update whenever we manage to tear ourselves away from the place and slooowly move on – until then, enjoy the photos!

The downfalls of the highlights

Tuesday, November 25th, 2008

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So, Sapa. Considered the destination of the country, Sapa was more of an overexploited disappointment than anything else, a disturbing trend that we’ve noticed in all of the “highlights” of Vietnam (ie Hoi An, Halong, Hanoi). We escaped Hanoi (the eight bia hois and street stall kebabs that we downed beforehand made the place more tolerable!) on a night train to Lao Cai, where we would have to get further transport (along with every other tourist in Vietnam) to Sapa in the morning. We opted for soft seats rather than a sleeper car and, while Gabe had no problem passing right out, I spent the night staring at the brutal flourescant light above my head (the only one that stayed on allllll night!) and listening to the grungy Australian backpackers next to me crunch beer can after beer can.

We arrived around 6 a.m. and naturally were immediately greeted by calls of “Sapa? Minibus? We go now, you follow! Sapa?” I was in no mood to talk to any of the touts, so I didnt – just kept walking until we reached some minibuses and someone told us that it would cost 50,000d. That was about what we’d expected to pay, so I paid the guy (“hurry, money now, money now!”) with a 200,000d bill. He said thankyou and started to walk away – we grabbed him and demanded change. Reluctantly he handed me a 50.000d bill and said “ok?” I shook my head and he counted 40.000 more into my hand – I shot him a look saying that wasn’t okay either and he finally handed over the last 10.000. Not a good introduction.

The minibus soon left and, apart from finding out that several fellow passengers paid only 30.000d, it was a gorgeous ride up the side of a mountain, looking out over terraced rice fields and raging rivers and waterfalls. The higher we climbed, the foggier and colder it got; by the time we were dropped in Sapa, you couldn’t see more than three feet in front of you and the temperature was near freezing. Luckily a really friendly lady approached us saying she had a room for $4 a night – we followed her there and were shown a perfectly good room with hot water, right above an internet cafe, and moved in.

 Our first order of business, of course, was food. Soup had never sounded better, so we squatted at a street stall and downed a couple bowls of pho before searching the vendors (took all of 30 seconds) to find a pair of gloves. I picked up the most basic pair on offer and was quoted 125.000d (about $9) – it took mere seconds to agree on 30.000d and I made a mental note to bargain everything in this place!

With warm hands I had the patience to browse the “market” which was in fact nothing but hill tribe women trying to sell everything they owned to you, along with the standard spread of souveniors and postcards, every second, at ridiculous prices. This happens, of course, because many people are more than happy to pay for them! It didn’t take long for the calls of “you buy from me!” and old ladies forcing handwoven hats onto our heads in some sort of twisted sales tactic to send us running the opposite direction.

We paid a bit extra to put a space heater in our room (Asia hasn’t discovered insulation yet), and I found out the hard way that there wasn’t enough water pressure to have a hot shower; rather, we had a hot tap and a cup. I won’t go into too many details of the manuevers we had to make in order to bathe, but picture an ice-cold tile bathroom (unsealed windows of course) with a tap in the wall, large plastic bucket underneath and the cup intended for mouth-rinsing. It sucked.

We decided to walk to nearby Cat Cat village and see what there was to see. The main reason that people come to Sapa is for the Hmong minority tribes; everyone joins “treks” and does homestays in the villages. We already had our doubts and had no intention of joining a trek (nothing will ever be as pure as our Cambodia experience was, and there were faaarrr too many indications of gross exploitation here), but figured walking on our own couldn’t hurt.

It was only a couple of miles and there was a ticket booth halfway – red flag number one! The village itself felt like a theme park; “traditional” dance performances every afternoon, paved sidewalks, souvenior stand after souveniour stand and very traditional Heinekin and Cocacola for sale. The only redeeming factor was a gorgeous waterfall – we took a few photos of that and escaped the place.

We decided that we would trek ourselves down to the Lao Chai village the next day – it appeared to be about a five-hour roundrip hike and surely would be fun if we did it independently! We set off and almost immediately had three Hmong girls trailing us, one with an infant on her back. They asked if we were going to the village and wanted to walk with us. We agreed and had a really enjoyable hike down the mountain; the tribe people give off a really good vibe, they laugh a lot and joke with you as best they can given the language barrier. Eventually they motioned us to a turnoff and we followed them down a dirt path – no one had asked us to buy anything yet, so I continued to give them the benefit of the doubt.

The lower we travelled the more beautiful it became; thus far we could only see dense white clouds when we looked down the mountain, but once we were below the cloud line we were treated to postcard-perfect images impossibly steep terraced farmland, rivers and villages.

(Gabe here) – Since most of you know how “graceful” Allison is…let me paint a picture.  The hilltribe woman with the child on her back in a sling, wearing plastic sandals, and weaving a crown out of bamboo/reeds that would later be a gift to dear Allison, happily helped her, with her only free hand, through the muddy, rough terrain 🙂

(Allison’s back – and I didn’t need help for once!) We soon ran into the back of a small tour group and one of the girls mentioned that we were headed to “many people visit” village – I figured we’d be getting the hard sell soon enough, but enjoyed myself all the same. When we finally reached Lao Chai it was more genuine than the village we’d seen the day before,  but still had comfortable restaurants full of white people, soda stands and various crafts being shoved at you every other second. Our companions finally said the magic words, “You shopping now?” and we said no, just walking, and kept walking.

 They weren’t too insistent but kept following us, which I didn’t have a problem with. We departed Lao Chai and soon came upon Taveng, another village. This one had less for sale but was big into the homestay business; we immediately had a girl trying to convince us to stay the night, “very cheap for you!” We did our best to ignore them all (a shame since there was a lot I’d like to browse, but it’s next to impossible to glance at anything without an assumption that you’re committed) and asked our girls where a good place to eat was.

 They led us to a small shack where we squeezed ourselves in among the locals and were served some soup. We were quoted 20.000d after being asked where we were from –“Oohhh, America. Many dollar!” – we knew it was high for such a place, but not exorbiant and it was good soup. We decided to pay for the two girls who were still with us, as we knew we wouldn’t be buying anything and that they were probably expecting us to. We also knew that thier soup definitely didn’t cost as much as ours – hopefully they could just pocket the extra. They seemed very grateful and happy when we paid, and we left with every intention of jumping onto the main road and heading back to Sapa.

They followed us right out, however, and while the baby-lady didn’t say much and seemed content, the other girl immediately jumped into her “I follow you long time, now you shopping!” script. We insisted that we weren’t shopping, she insisted that we were, and so on for a good fifteen minutes. These people know persistence! I’m sure that many people would give in and follow her to her home for some shopping, but we’ve been here long enough and know how to hold out.

Eventually they gave up and we were able to head in the direction of Sapa on our own. After hours of walking we returned, treated ourselves to some hot drinks and discussed the effect of tourism on these native cultures – not a good one! We decided the next day would be devoted to renting a motorbike and striking out alone.

Sunday dawned fairly clear and noticably warmer – perfect! After a breakfast full of fighting off the 10-year old Hmong salespeople, we bundled up and took off for what we though was the Muong Hum market, a place with little to no tourists, about 30km away. The road was narrow, gravelly and wound its way up and down mountains; within 30 minutes we’d escaped the fog of Sapa and were gawking at some of the most incredible scenery I’ve ever witnessed! We had more than a few scares in the form of buses/construction trucks barrelling at us headon (Mom, not to worry), but Gabe is a pro at driving like an Asian by now and everything was just fine.

We never found the Muong Hum market, but we found a sleepy little town called Tuong Duong with a market that was just winding down. We parked and ate some lunch – no one was interested in charging us anything beyond what it cost – then bought some fruit off the street (again, no hint of gouging, just smiles) before settling next to a river to write some postcards. We’d crossed a mountain pass on the way that serves as a weather line – it was now warm and sunny with spectacular views of the surrounding mountain range. We very easily could have been in Switzerland, and were reminded of how we loved Vietnam before hitting all of the “highlights.”

The trip back to Sapa was breathtaking as well, though the closer we got, the colder and foggier it became. We were ready to leave the place, and didn’t do much beyond dinner and bus ticket-buying before huddling in front of our tiny space heater. The north is unbelievable, but I dont think I could ever encourage anyone to visit Sapa of all places! There is real life, real hilltribes all around it, far more fulfilling…

Yesterday we boarded a minibus bound for Dien Bien Phu, our base for crossing over to Laos. It was an interesting trip with an interesting assortment of characters – there were about 11 Vietmanese including our daredevil driver, the flirtatious teenage couple who incessantly shoved their bags under their seat and onto our feet, the lady with the baby who incredibly didn’t make a single sound the entire time and the skinny guy next to me who kept blasting Asian pop music and looking at girlie pictures on his cellphone. There were also six foreigners – aside from Gabe and I, there was the older German couple who somehow squeezed their long legs into the back row and took photos of everything and two Brazilian girls who were far from shy and demanded multiple toilet stops on the side of road (luckily Gabe saved the day with his knowledge of the word “toilet” in Vietmanese!). Ten hours, one food stop, one roadblock, one towing incident and one government opium search later, we arrived in Dien Bien Phu, a town where not a single moto driver approached us.

We quickly found a room then beelined it for a bia hoi place, where the moto drivers out front welcomed us instead of harassing us for rides. We were served a plastic liter bottle full of fresh (?) beer and quickly downed two of them. Feeling much more relaxed, we enjoyed being in a small town where no one is all too interested in us – everything is business as usual, no matter who you are.

We cannot go to Laos until Wednesday, so we’re spending today in Dien Bien, taking care of a few last-minute errands. We just had one of the most memorable lunches in recent memory, and it had nothing to do with the food! We stepped inside a little place (someone’s living room, as per usual) and were warmly greeted by an older woman and her daughter. They gestured at us to sit down and started to cook up a feast. The husband got up from his spot in front of the football game and, with the biggest grin I’ve every seen, came over to greet us, shake hands and pat Gabe on the back. He gestured that he’d be right back and rushed for a backroom, quickly returning with a bottle of beer. We hadn’t really been interested in beer, but you can’t turn it down! Still smiling and laughing, he poured us each a glass then proceeded to take a teacup full of some brown liquid, pour us each a portion and then we all clinked glasses – one of the most memorable whisky shots I’ll ever have! He rambled a bit in Vietmanese, still grinning and repeatedly patting Gabe on the back, then left us to start on the food that his wife and daughter had enthusiastically been piling in front of us.

It was a large spread of soup, rice, stirfried beef, tofu and veggies – every few minutes the man would say something to us, excited beyond belief at our presence, and show us the latest on the television screen. Soon he returned with another whiskey shot for all three of us, then after another minutes in front of the game got back up and brought over a half-empty Aquafina bottle.  We assumed it was water and let him pour it into our teacups, but of course it was vodka – all three of us clinked once more and the smiles grew! He was evidently once a high-ranking officer in the military, judging by the photos all over the walls, and he was proud to show them to us, his enthusiasm never waning.

Eventually we were stuffed and paid before being given any more alcohol or any more offers of hits from whatever he and his son were smoking out of a big bamboo pipe. There’d been no more than four or five communicable words spoken between all of us in that hour, but I felt like we’d communicated with them better than any of the clever english-speaking tourist-industry “professionals “that we’ve encountered over the past few weeks. It’s nice to depart the country with a highlight!

The wedding…

Tuesday, November 11th, 2008
3012914112_789daf88df.jpg  ...and honeymoon capital of Vietnam. That is Dalat's claim to fame, and it's easy to see why! The place is beautiful and can really only be described as romantic; as I said before, I immediately ... [Continue reading this entry]

Ear-to-ear

Wednesday, November 5th, 2008
Vietnam is fast becoming the highlight of our trip, consistently putting smiles on our faces. We started out on Phu Quoc, a large island not too far from the Cambodian border. Phu Quoc is 90% mountainous forest; there is a ... [Continue reading this entry]

A few of my favorite things!

Monday, September 15th, 2008
I haven't written nearly enough about food. Sure, I've mentioned plenty of meals and commented on the 'amazing dinner' more than a few times, but the food here deserves a dedicated post (or 20). After five months, I still get ... [Continue reading this entry]

Transportation, part 2 (through 11)

Monday, August 18th, 2008
The Mae Klong railway Let's revisit the transportation topic for a bit, shall we? This past weekend Gabe and I decided to check out the floating markets. Whereas this used to ... [Continue reading this entry]