Laos

Thought I'd drop a line to friends and family. Which, by the way, I would really appreciate Amy Davidson and Merka Martin's emails. I got their emails and then conveniently left my old, tattered journal at home. Also forward these to anyone who might appreciate them...I don't have a quarter of the email addresses that I should (I'm a slacker in this way). Oh, Julia...I also need tall, bearded Dennis' email address. Is the market still going on....can you get it?

 

Also, Dad...would you print the last couple emails for both sets of grandparents, and drop them off? I'd love it if they could "hear" my voice and share in their grandsons' experiences. Thanks!

 

Well, the group went to Vientiane, Laos, which is the most chill capital city on the planet. Laotians are notoriously easy going. After two days just spending time in the city, we took an absolutely breathtakingly beautiful 10 hour bus ride to Luang Probang. The Laotian mountains are the greenest mountains I"ve ever seen! Lush with jungle vegetation (banana trees, palm trees, teak trees, many vines, copious undergrowth), unearthly green, terraced rice fields, and the highest concentration of butterflies ever. More on all of this later. I will admit that the bus ride was a bit sketchy, as the mountain roads are windy, poorly maintained (and the dirt around here is clay, and it is still wet season), and the drivers are courageous to a fault. However, we made it to Luang Probang, where there is a large gathering of Buddhist monks and Wats (temples). There is a colorful procession of monks every morning, in their saffron robes and with shorn heads. The town has definitely been discovered by tourists, but we were in low season, and not too many tourists were out and about. We spent the days (3) renting bikes, checking out waterfalls and limestone/carst cliffs, and relaxing for our upcoming 7 day trek. I was fortunate enough to get giardia on the last night, and spent a lovely evening vomiting in my guesthouse room. Ahhhh, the joys of traveling.

 

From Luang Probang, another 8 hours in a bus (again, sketchy!), arriving safely in Luang Namtha. Because this was a recovery day for me, the trip seemed insanely long, and the motion of the bus had me contemplating jumping ship. Alas, we made it, and after 12 hours of sleep, I woke up refreshed and ready. Northern Laos is reportedly what Thailand and Vietnam were like 30 years ago, and I believe it. Other than a strip of guesthouses and internet cafes, the area is inhabited by native tribes and surrounded by villages of thatched roof huts. Mountains can be seen in every direction, and the flatlands are given over totally to rice fields. It is here that we embarked upon a 7 day trek.

 

The trek begins with a 40 ride in a tuk tuk to a semi remote village of the Khamu people. We spend a few minutes watching locals craft knives, then hit the trail. Within minutes, one of our students is puking. She pulls through, and we keep going. The next 2 days are spent hiking through the deepest mud I've ever hiked in, and that mud is composed of clay. We quickly create a game to see who can score the most points by falling with the most style. While I didn't win, I was no slouch. The leeches were out, and all of us fell prey to those thirsty bloodsuckers. On night two, our hut is in the middle of nowhere, and there is as much open space as there is thatch and bamboo between us and the outdoors. We discover upon looking at the ceiling (at night, with headlamps) numerous sets of emerald eyes staring at yes. Yes, folks, about 15-20 spiders, the size of a woman's hand, are just looking back at us, watching. They are hairy, quick, and strangely beautiful. And most unwelcome. Luckily we have mosquito nets, and we make sure to tuck them under us very tightly this evening. Welcome, though, were the literally hundreds of moths who gathered on our clothes, which were drying out on the fencing. They took all shapes, sizes, and colors, and were apparently loving the salt from our sweaty cloths. They were a spectacular sight. On day 4, one student decides that they've had enough, and request (politely but firmly) to go back to town. There is an exit point in the trail, and so I go with the student back to town, and spend two days. I spend most of my time with the trek operators, because they have a guitar in their office. We sit around and play music, and they ask me if I know the Scorpions song "The Wind of Change" or Garth Brooks' song "If Tomorrow Never Comes". For some reason, these songs are enormously popular over here. I tell them I don't, and then ask them if they have Internet. Yes! So I show them ultimateguitartabs.com, a website with over 30,000 tabs. Lo and behold, both songs are there, and in 5 minutes, I'm playing the chords and everyone is singing Scorpions and Garth Brooks. These guys nearly shit their pants upon being shown this website! So, if you travel through Northern Laos, and all you hear is butt rock and country music, I can only say "Sorry, friends". I may have single handedly ruined the culture up there, but damn they sure are pleased! After two days in town, the other leader (Dawn) and I switch out, and I get two more days in the jungle. I have a friend who once told me that he likes snow because it keeps the land clean...winter purifies and makes room for new life. I can see what he means, now. The jungle is so incredibly alive, teeming with plantlife, insects, and birds. Plants grow on plants. Vines grow on trees. Everything is damp. And yet within this feast of life is so much decay. A plant may have several new buds, while there are rotting, decaying leaves, still attached, at the bottom. The ground is covered with slimy, decaying matter. One catches a wonderful whiff of jungle perfume, and the next inhalation is pure funk. Rivers are thick and muddy. The song of the cicadas if deafening (yet really cool to listen to....just not so incessantly!). The jungle never has a real winter...never takes a break to relax, renew, start over. While I do have an aversion to the cold, I will admit that I can appreciate the affect of winter, the land in peaceful slumber, making way for brand new life. Anyhoo, back to the jungle, and back to  the leeches. We went through a place on the last day where the leeches are known to be terrible. And terrible they were. You could see them on the ground as you walked, standing on end, mouth end searching the area for a victim. Walk 100 yards, you just picked up 10 leeches. So, with pants tucked into socks, we hightailed it through there. Only 5 of them actually got my blood, which I was O.K. with, considering the odds. A chief of one of the tribes, who was guiding us through his area, had a really cool trick. He wore sandals and shorts, so that leeches could get on him freely, and he could see them. He had a tea bag full of salt that he dipped into the river. Whenever a leech would get on him, he would apply the bag to the leech, and Wham!, the leech literally jumped off of him. A hot tip for anyone planning on traveling in leech territory. We then descended into a national park, where there were a few old growth teak trees that were radiant in their age. Unfortunately, these are becoming more and more rare here. We also had the opportunity to sit with an elder of a tribe one evening. Our guide, Sae, translated for us. I asked the elder what his hopes are for his tribes future. He said that he hopes that his people emerge into the world, learn to read and write, and that more outside visitors come. He said that his life has been very, very difficult, and that he hopes for an easier life for his children/grandchildren. I was surprised by this, and asked about his thoughts in regards to old ways being lost. He said "what good is it to be able to call a bird, or trap an animal, is this world" (he is Akah, a tribe well known for their ability to call in birds and for hunting skills). This saddened me. Something else that saddened me is the younger generations lack of interest in learning older ways. They show great respect for elders, but want to learn English, go to school, learn about computers, etc. One day I asked a man in the Lan Ten tribe if there was a Shaman. "Yes" he said...every tribe has a Shaman. The Shaman was out "speaking to plants and spirits" in the jungle, so I didn't get to meet him. Apparently, the man knows everything there is to know about each plant (which number in the thousands), and is able to converse with the forest spirit (the tribes are animist, not Buddhist). The sad part is that the younger kids, and the Shamans own children, show very little interest in learning his art. All that knowledge, and they want to study English and computers. Arghhh!!! So, for all you seekers of plant and healing knowledge, that information is fast disappearing. In Thailand, it is the people in their 80's and 90's who are the keepers of this knowledge. In Laos, it was passed down another generation, so the Shamans are in their 40's and 50's. After this generation, though......you can imagine what will, or won't, be.

 

So, after a beauty of a bus ride back to Luang Probang (I wasn't sick, so I could actually enjoy it), we have a rest day. I met an Australian named Simon today. We talked about music, and all the wonderful effects it can have on consciousness, and how generally happy it can make people feel. We were both grinning ear to ear during the whole conversation. I must say that music continues to be a highlight of my trip. My one disappointment is that, at least in Laos, music happens only during festivals. The people here are mostly villagers, hard workers, and music is considered important, but it has it's place and doesn't really occur much outside of the festivals. The one movement I've seen is the more Bohemian guitar types, and they are all playing, as previously mentioned, butt rock and country music, hardly culturally relavent (Laotian culture, that is). So, I make music by myself (not unusual), entertain monks, children, westerners, and myself, and love it all the while.

 

From here, a 2 day boat trip down the Mekong, 4 days at a primate sanctuary, then off to Thailand.

 

Hope everyone out there is healthy and happy!

James