One step at a time…

A forgotten country….a country, which seems to be off the radar screen for many. It has a recent sad history, the legacy of the Vietnam War. Did you know that Laos has been the most heavily bombarded country in the world? Yes! From 1963-1974 it was the site of the “secret war” waged by the Americans.

I saw the evidence of this first hand in the Northeastern part of Laos. Large bowl like craters filled with water or small plants are evidence of the air attacks. Cluster bombs still lie dormant in many of the fields surrounding the “Plain of Jars” in Phonsavan. One would think that this would leave bitterness towards the Americans but ask the local people and they will tell you its futile to mull over the past. I had couple of conversations with some of the local guides and they all say, “American Tourist bring dollars why offend them!” Little do they know that most of the citizens do not even know that Laos was an important equation during the war.

I don’t want anybody to think that America was the only “bad” guy in the war. The Vietnamese did there share of killing in Laos as well. A country caught in between.

My own knowledge about Lao (this is the original name of the country, the “s” was added by the French) came during my first year in college in the states. I happened to take a class, which dealt with social change in Cambodia. During the course of the semester the two teachers, one Cambodian and the other American shared with us the history of the Vietnam War and its legacy. Around the same time I was working in the Long beach Unified school district which has the largest Lao refugee population in the world. You mention that you live in California and people here will tell about their long gone relative who lives there.

Laos is a beautiful country. A gentle beauty, which to me has been welcoming, rather than provoking a sense of insignificance. Sometimes in nature that is awe inspiring one can see themselves as a tiny grain of sand, one among the many, insignificant on the time scale of mankind. But so far the beauty in Laos is inviting rather than questioning, its comfortable, gentle and kind, like the freshness of the girl next door. The journeys in Laos have been the highlight for me rather than the places so far.

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On the road…
Leaving Luang Prabang, headed north to the countryside and the village of Nong Khiaw. The quite town of Nong Khiaw was not so quite at the guest house I stayed, the whole backpacker crowd was there..can’t blame em. The best food in Lao, I have had was served by the couple that runs this place. Recent parents of a little baby girl called “Sakuna” were a bit tired and overwhelmed with the crowd that stayed “IN” because of the rains and didn’t know what to do with their time but eat and drink. So many people, so many conversations, so many questions. Life can be summarized in couple of sentences. Strange, there is so much more. In the end all these strangers believe what they want to and move on. The world on the road can be a very small place, you the see the same faces again and again and slowly but surely you get a clearer picture behind the stories.

While on my way to Nong Khiaw we stopped on our way to get some tea and there I saw a familiar noise coming from the TV. Around the corner and couple of children and adults were passing their afternoon siesta with a “Bollywood” flick. That too a remake of some South Indian movie in which Jayapradha is watching over her hubby Jeetendra and son while the dog is helping solve the mystery of her death. No, I did not spend the afternoon to know the story..couple of minutes were enough. Like Pico Iyer who traces the influence of western values in Asia in his book “Video nights in Katmandu” wonder if anybody has surveyed the tentacles of Indian cinema around the world. The guesthouse owner actually rattled off names of yester year’s stars that I was surprised that Indian movies viewers have existed in these parts way before satellite TV made this world a very small place.

The trip to Mong Noi, a village that one can only reach by boat is yet another guesthouse haven.

The rain god’s have turned the showers in full swing and there was no respite for many days. Had I more books to devour I would have stayed on. As I mentioned before, the journeys in Laos are not only the most captivating but interesting as well. This time the boat ride was uneventful but suddenly the lady owner of the boat who was helping her husband steer the contraption tapped me on my shoulder and pointed to my earrings. I have many a times been complimented on this piece of jewelry, which now is a part of me. Am too lazy to change them and if you notice photographs of me from the time am sixteen you might see the same earrings. They have been an eyewitness to many joys and sorrows. Anyway, back to the original story. The lady extends her hand and points at my earrings again. This is not a child asking for a pen and it’s not a cheap pen to be given. I was more embarrassed at my refusal and have never been more surprised in my life. Am sure one could have drawn a new version of the smiley faces had they seen my reaction.
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I had my first leech bite in Mong Noi.
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A wise old no name Israeli traveller saw my fortune. Its for me to know and you to ask. Nothing dramatic, he said I would be married in 3 years. Before I could ask for details about the tall, dark, handsome stranger in my life, a rude oobnxious English women looking for a beer and some conversation spoilt the prophecy.Darn!
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I had to make my way back to Luang Prabang and cancel my plans to visit Sam Nuea, as I was not sure of the road conditions along the route. Armed with another book I headed south towards Phonsavan. Stone jars, some as high as 10m strewn across the grassy-bombed fields continue to baffle archeologists and others. It’s a mystery why and how these stone jars came be in these fields. Some say they were burial jars and some say they were used for fermenting wine etc. Whatever the story the mystery remains as to how did they come to be there. How were these “Jars” transported? A Stonehenge in the making. We could not see all the sites, one because of the rains and other because some of the fields still have UXO’s. 30% of the bombs dropped in Laos over a period of 10 years have not detonated, they still claims limbs and if lucky lives. Life in these parts can be difficult for a healthy man; you can only imagine what it would be to be crippled here in these parts. M journey to Phonsavan would be a little different as I was going to join an Austrian family to re-visit a local man who had made Phonsavan home after the war. He was a South Vietnamese soldier who had escaped the POW camps and was running a agriculture seed production farm in town. Not only was he a victim of war, so was his daughter who was born handicapped as a result of “Agent Orange” usage during the war. The legacy of the war remains, though beneath the surface, shielded from the tourists by the warmth of the local hospitality.

I made the decision to stay a few days in Vang Vieng and made the uneventful journey along with some fellow guesthouse neighbors. The early bird catches the worm in Laos. The journey started at 7.45am and a cup of steaming Lao coffee can wake the slumber out of anybody. While I was waiting for the journey to begin, the guy who sold our ticket comes to asking to help him with something. He wanted to write down in “perfect English” an announcement to make on the PA system. Of course being the good Girl Guide that I was I did my good deed for the day. Then he invited me to come join him in the booth and make the announcement myself, which I did. In my very sexy (not!) voice I repeated after his announcement and made his day. The locals smiled and the other backpackers pulled out their cameras. I had a good laugh and a story to write about.

Vang Vieng, is definitely a creation of Joe Cummings. Maybe am being too harsh. Am beginning to dislike the legacy of “Lonely Planet” and the aftermath its readers leave behind. The town center is mini Kho-san road (the infamous backpacker’s street in Bangkok). The streets are lined with whitewashed bungalow guesthouses and “falang” restaurants with signs in Hebrew, Korean and English. Many just sit around and watch re-runs of “Friends”. What else can one do if they smoke their evening away in their balconies and afternoons having “happy shakes”. I have never seen so many potheads in one place and have to say am searching for a place in this town. I definitely don’t fit in. I don’t inhale! Luckily the sun is out and I made joined a group of like-minded travelers on a Kayaking and Caving trip. An interesting and relaxing day, which was spent at times cruising the calm river and riding the rapids at other.

There is more to this little haven than empty Beer Lao bottles and dilated pupils.

Get out of the comfort zone and take a trip into the mountains to check out some caves in the surrounding areas. Don’t be a fool and venture into the caves by yourself. The guides told us that few days before us a young Argentian guy ventured into the caves inspite of warnings from the locals and has not been since. For 6 days the locals and police searched for him but with no results.

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p.s I have yet to bite my nails since I left San Francisco. Humm…maybe I have finally kicked my nasty habit. Mom, aren’t you proud.

Tags: Laos

This entry was posted on Friday, July 16th, 2004 at 12:53 pm and is filed under Laos. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.