October Vacation, Part 2: The Sabai, Sabai Life

Luang Prabang, Laos

Our ride to L.P.

Our slow boat ride on the Mekong River from Tha Chung to Luang Prabang took took almost six hours, but contained some of the most beautiful and stunning sights I've seen in Asia (and cost all of $13). For the whole trip, the mud-colored slow-moving water we floated down was bordered by steep white cliffs, tall green palms, and little sandy beach inlets, where fishermen would pause to rest or prepare their nets.

We arrived in Luang Prabang as the sun was setting Sunday afternoon, and it was pretty much love at first sight. Partly because we were at the tail end of low tourist season, and partly because of the general atmosphere of Luang Prabang, it was very quiet and peaceful. The city truly lived up to the alternate meaning of Lao P.D.R.: "Lao People Don't Rush." I wish there were more epic stories to recount, but the whole week was all very sabai, sabai and laid back. We spent our days walking the cobbled streets, checking out temples, picking through the mile-long Hmong craft market in the city center, drinking AMAZING Lao coffee and Beerlao, and sitting by the riverside. At night, we'd go out for a round of "happy hour" drinks, dinner, and Nutella crepes. I'll be admittedly lazy with my written descriptions in this post, and let the pictures do the talking.

Buddhist temple ceremony, Luang Prabang

Wat Xieng Thong Mosaic

Almost like Princeton Reunions: 5 a.m. Morning Alms

Buddha Buddha Buddha Buddha rockin' everywhere: Pak Ou Caves

We made two day trips outside of Luang Prabang. The first was to the Pak Ou caves, which are set inside steep cliffs overlooking the Mekong River, and are only accessible by boat. For hundreds of years, local Lao people have taken their old or damaged Buddha statues to the caves for "storage." The caves are now filled with thousands of these chipped, armless Buddhas, in every different color, size and pose. The figures are packed into every shelf and crevice along the cave floor and walls.


On the way home from the caves, our driver took us to a Hmong "Whisky Village" and craft market, where we were given shots of rice wine and scorpion-infused whisky (neither were very tasty; both packed a serious punch). Also for sale: snake whisky and monkey whisky - each with the animals stuffed inside the glass jars. Noooo thanks.

Not a bad way to picnic

The next day, we took a songthaew the Kuang Si Waterfalls, about two hours outside the city. We spent hours hiking through the falls, taking pictures, and stopping to throw on our bathing suits and swim at various "swimming holes" along the waterfall path. The water was warm and an incredible clear mint-green color. For lunch, we parked ourselves at a picnic table that was set up inside one of the shallow pools and dove into the Lao baguette sandwiches we had packed.

I wish we could have spent another week in Laos, but Vietnam beckoned....

Next post: Hanoi!

October Vacation, Part 1: Auntie Mon-Mon's Land of Elephants... and extras.

Nan, Thailand to Hongsa, Laos

No one said it was going to be easy to get to Luang Prabang by land. 

Our journey began with Aj. Prakop bidding us farewell and choke dii (good luck) at the bus station early Saturday morning.We paid our money to a "ticket taker" (read: woman in her pajamas sitting at a fold-out table in front of a bus platform), handed over our backpacks (which were tossed on the car roof - presumably tied down, but who knows really) and climbed into our mini-bus van. It was stuffed to capacity with about 14 adults, a handful of babies, and one monk. 

Hongsa: dirt roads, Auntie Mon-Mon, and that's about it.

Two hours later, the whole gang was dropped at the dusty Thai border town of Ban Huay Kon. After showing our documents, paying for a Lao visa and walking a kilometer over the official checkpoint, we finally grabbed a songthaew to Hongsa, a few hours east of the Thai-Lao border and our stopping point for Day 1; the only transportation running in our Luang Prabang direction would not leave until early the next morning. 

The songthaew driver and his wife dropped us at the Jumbo Guesthouse, the first visible lodging in the flat, mostly empty, chicken-scattered 5 square kilometer town. As we approached the front yard, the guesthouse owner appeared at her colorful front doorway. She had short curly grey-hair, and looked disheveled and sleepy-eyed (evidently just awoken from a nap), and was sucking down a cigarette as she squinted at us in the afternoon sun. "Sabai dee," she said when we reached her, in a thick German accent. "I am Monica. Please, come in." 

The Jumbo was a one-story, four-bedroom house - one of which belonged to Monica - converted into a rather pricy, but very nicely decorated guesthouse. We each took a bed, unloaded our belongings, and washed off the dust and grime we'd accumulated on the drive over in the cold-water mosquito-infested shower. Monica invited us to have coffee on the patio (which we were subsequently charged for, along with various other mysterious "extras" added to our bill), and explained that we were very lucky to come by that day: elephants were on their way over. 

Sure enough, five enormous Asian elephants showed up later that afternoon, clumped awkwardly into the grassy front yard of the house, each with a Lao "driver" perched lazily on top of their thick wrinkly backs. Monica psuedo-explained that she also runs an elephant-riding business on the side, and had some German tourists coming by that afternoon to take the enormous animals out for a spin (so to speak). In the meantime, we were allowed to feed and marvel at the elephants, taking photos beside them and dodging the large and rather sudden piles of excrement that tumbled down every few minutes... 

Land of A Million Elephants... I'll stick to the front side.

Amidst the elephant visiting, a British couple about our age, Dave and Rowina, arrived at the Jumbo. We quickly befriended them and spent the rest of the evening on the patio, chatting while eating Monica's delicious-and-also-overpriced spaghetti carbonara, and downing cold Beerlaos (in my opinion, the best of the best cheap Asian beers). The five of us - as well as Monica, who milled in and out from her bedroom - spent hours swapping our favorite Asia stories. Dave and Rowina had both quit their jobs in England - bar tending and graphic designing, respectively - a few months ago and were traveling around for a year or until their savings ran out. They had just come from the exact route we were headed towards, and loaded us with maps, business cards, and suggestions of places to stay, eat and see. 

Dinner preparations at the Jumbo

Around 10 p.m., Monica - ol' Auntie Mon-Mon as we now were calling her - came out and placed a small sticky-rice basket on the table in front of Dave, then walked away without saying anything. He opened it, peered inside, laughed and shrugged. A few minutes later he had rolled her a "special" cigarette with the basket contents. Mon-Mon came out to retrieve it, sat at the table, and slowly smoked it. Despite having promised over and over the whole afternoon that she was going to make us pancakes for dessert - "a treat from home!" - her eyes slowly drooped shut and she scuttled off to bed. She never mentioned the pancakes again, but did mention the next morning that she slept very well. 

Sunday morning, we were off to the Mekong River, from which point we would take the 6-hour "slow boat" south to Luang Prabang. Getting to the Mekong, however, proved our most difficult land travel challenge yet. The only way to get to the Mekong from Hongsa is to take a once-a-day songthaew over the extremely steep and unpaved dirt roads that run through the mountains in between. Our particular songthaew was (unsurprisingly) filled with about five passengers too many before we even left the bus station. Everyone's belongings were stacked on the truck roof, or splayed out on top of us or under our feet. On the edge of town, the driver stopped for one last passenger: a heavyset woman whose baggage doubled what was already on the truck. It included: two boxes of live chickens; a basket with a live duck; a crate of wrapped apples; and one lid-less black bucket full of water and live fish. SOMEHOW this was all loaded into the full truck (the duck was relegated to the rooftop), although the woman had to spread out across us all like a starfish to keep her market goods from moving about. 

The drive was jolting and painful, and there were many times when I flat out refused to look out the side of the truck - like when the driver had to cross a 6-foot wide, 2-foot deep mud crater in the middle of the road, while dodging cows and trying not to fall off the mountain cliff. Our hair, skin and teeth became coated with a thin film of dust, and my eyes felt grimy. About an hour and a half into this, one of the market woman's fish sloshed out of the bucket. The woman lunged for it, but it had already hit the ground, its wet skin flopping and glistening in the sun on the red dirt road behind us. I assume it was on purpose; by that point I was thinking of flipping myself out of the truck bed too. 

But things were to get oh so much better as we made our way to LP. 

To be continued tomorrow...

Get Thee to Vacation

If anyone needs me in the next three weeks, you can hit me up here.

...or here.

Well, not sure how it happened, but I just finished an entire semester at Bandon Sriserm. It was a fantastic, if very busy, last week of school.

Eight of our co-teachers and one of the Assistant Directors is retiring this term, so we had a long day of good-byes yesterday. In the morning, there was a school-wide assembly to honor the teachers and have the students wish them good luck. This involved a ceremony of speeches, bringing flowers and gifts to the retiring teachers, having the students bow at their feet, embrace them, and sob tears of farewell. It was surprisingly emotional (I think it had to do with watching both grown adults and 6-year-old children crying for two hours), and an all around fascinating testament to the role of and respect given to teachers in Thailand. (I continue to feel undeserving).

Last night, the ajaans held a proper choke dii - good luck - party for the retirees. It was held at the nicest hotel in Nan city, and everyone was dressed to the Thai 9s. Much like the last ajaan party, it involved endless supplies of Spy wine coolers, delicious Thai food, and a full-scale karaoke set up. A group of about 10 staff members (ranging age 24 to 54) dressed in green tutus and masks and performed a hilarious dance skit for the whole party. Things I love about Thailand: most humor requires no translation.

But there were more serious moments, too. A Buddhist shaman opened the ceremony by giving a blessing for the teachers, and having everyone in the room tie a white string around the teachers' wrists - an offering of good luck for the next phase of life. Next, the retirees were lavished in gifts upon gifts from the whole staff. One of our co-teachers even delivered a poem she had written just for the occasion.  It was incredibly touching to see how much these ajaans mean to each other.

Although the rest of the students had their last day of class Thursday, the 6th graders had to be at school today to take a practice standardized English test called the "Ordinary National English Test" - which makes it sound so... ordinary... but as test proctor, I can say this exam was far from. The test is likely written by a Thai English speaker who was schooled by British teachers. I'm not kidding, "Cheerio" was an answer choice for about 25% of the practice exam questions. (Another 25% involved misspelled words, incoherent phrases, and mis-punctuated sentences. Maybe I'll look into careers in writing standardized English tests in foreign countries, because damn was it frustrating to figure out, much less explain answers to this test....)

I said goodbye to all the kiddies after school. I will sincerely miss them while I'm away.


But, on to the vacation deets. My fellow ajaans and I will be cruising Southeast Asia over the next 3 weeks, starting in Luang Prabang, Laos; taking a train through Hanoi, Halong Bay, Hoi An and Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), Vietnam; then hopping over to the beaches around Phuket and Ko Phi Phi, Thailand.

I will try to post while away, but depending on how technologically competent I find myself in Vietnamese Internet cafes, may be taking a rain check on the blog til October 25th!

My love to all. Cheerio.

CP