Laos: Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory

Photo Album. Laos was an incredible experience. There is so much to tell you, so many idiosyncracies and life lessons to share from a beautifully unknown and mostly untouched country (on the tourist trail anyway). It's hard to whittle it down to a story or two that will encapsulate the experience, but read on and imagine yourself here.

It was time for a bit of activity so we booked a kayaking trip on the Nam Ou river. The van was late and we patiently waited. In the US or any other western country, to have a tour van pick you up 30 minutes late would be something to ask or complain about. But not in Laos time. When it finally showed we hopped in with a handful of other westerners who were all going on a two day trek. Hmmm... We asked one of the guides on our bus to make sure and he said yes, this is a kayaking trip. We all just shrugged our shoulders, surrendered to Asian ways and watched Laos life go by from the window of the van as we drove deeper into the surrounding jungle. Eighty percent of Lao roads are unpaved so we were fortunate that only a few kilometers of the trip were bumpy. Who knew a van like this could make it up muddy steep inclines? We picked up five kayaks along the way from a random shed and continued on, stopping at three different roadside vendors for fruit and other food.

The van pulled over in a tiny village and the trekkers hopped out while three travelers from England jumped in. Again, we pulled over (well not really pulled over more like simply stopped in the lane) and received a 30 second lesson on three hours of white water kayaking. The helmets were cracked and the life jackets stunk of mildew but hey, at least we had them! No waivers to sign, no major training or safety, just good fun. That's Asia for you. Andy and I started in the single kayaks and the others in the doubles - architechure grad students Chris, Tom and Mark from South Hampton, England and our two trusty guides. After dropping in we immediately started splashing and trying to capsize one another other. The single kayaks are pretty squirrely which makes even the small rapids lots of fun! It's the wet season here so it was quite overcast and threatening rain but still about 80 degrees and humid.

After an hour or so on the water we pulled over to a sandy beach and enjoyed fried rice with vegetables, a baguette, fresh pineapple and bananas for lunch. (The town of Luang Prabang was a French settlement so we have been enjoying the French influence in cuisine like bread and crepes, non-existent in Asia for us in the last 5 weeks! Rice, noodles, more rice, more noodles...) A group of children from the Highland tribe were playing and throwing a giant net out in the milk chocolate colored river nearby trying to catch fish. After a while they were dressed, clustered together and watching us eat. I brought over half of our bread and rice, opened the lid and held it out to them assuming they would each take a piece. Instead, they all stared at the food and looked at me quizzically. One boy, maybe four or five years old took the plate from me and closed the lid as I turned away. So I walked back over, knelt down and handed out individual pieces of bread to the six children, two girls age six or seven each with a one-year-old on their backs. They took the bread, muching on it slowly as they kept staring, not so sure about me. I smiled and nodded and said "Mmmm!" as I fed another child spoonfuls of rice and another round of bread.

A giant, conical mountain peak covered in green jungle stood beautifully in the distance. The Brits came over and began to build a sandcastle imitating the same shape as the rugged mountain. They tried to engage the children but they had a what in the heck are you doing playing in the dirt? look on their faces. As the sandcastle began to take shape complete with a moat, plants and a bridge the children were more curious. One of the girls gave Tom a flower and he planted it on the top of the peak. Suddenly, the smiles were flowing as more children began to pick foliage and flowers and hand them to us but too shy to plant them on the structure themselves, except for one. This five-year-old boy stretched out but was too short to reach the top. My wonderful husband reached out and picked him up so he could plant the flower on the peak of the mountain himself. I was taking photos of them all the while. I showed the kids the photos and their enthusiasm ensued. They began to make funny faces at the camera and giggled uproariously as their tongues and hand gestures glowed back at them from the screen. It was incredible to watch the transformation from shy and unsure to pure joy and gregarious laughter. A smile and human kindness is truly universal.

We packed up our gear and headed back down Willy Wonka's river as thunder roared. The image of the hill tribe children encircling the sandcastle planting flowers and leaves as we rowed away will forever remain emblazoned in my mind.

Andy and I were now in a double kayak and a rapid crept up on us quickly. Suddenly we tipped over and as I scrambled to get back in I was wondering how in the heck that happened?! Our guides flipped us over with their oars! And I was so proud that I hadn't tipped over yet:) I laughed as I felt the refreshment of the cool water. The peaks behind us disappeared in the rainy mist. The mountains surrounding us were so vibrant and green, just dripping with bamboo and other tropical foliage. Rocks jutted out from jagged peaks as I imagined tigers and snakes hiding out. The rain began to fall and it was comfortably cool and refreshing as we paddled along to the finish.

I almost slipped backwards into the mud trying to drag our kayak out of the water but like a dozen times on this trip, thankfully I caught myself. We climbed up the mountainside and emerged into a monestary complete with orange-robed Buddhist monks on the steps of their temple. A giant gold Buddha stared at us as we washed off our muddy digits from their running water supply near their bamboo-made huts. Curiously, they watched us and we watched them. Chris asked if we could see inside their temple and they invited us inside. Our guides explained that they have many daily prayers and offerings, one of which is performed at dawn which must last for one hour before they can eat. The eldest monk covered in hand made tribal-like tattoos was sitting at the top of the temple steps sawing then hammering a dried out paint can to a stick. The monks use this simple contraption to gather the water to bathe themselves or to drink. I am consistently amazed how the monks and hill tribes use and reuse their natural resources. A good lesson for us all.

After a much needed warm shower, we bought a small bottle of sticky rice whiskey (for 5000 kip, or about 60 cents US) and headed out to the night market for a delicious dinner of street food. The smells are intense and intoxicating on many different levels. We settled on chicken on a bamboo stick (it tasted quite good but was mostly fat), sticky rice on a bamboo stick, raw veggie spring rolls with watercress, mint and carrot in a peanut/chili sauce, and a vegetarian plate of goodness from a roadside setup to share.