Laos

Visited: December 1999

Duration of visit: 25 days

Capital city: Vientiane

Population: 5.3 million (1999)

• Loving shouts and screams of children Sabai-dee, Sabai-dee OK, who were enthusiastically cheering a stranger in their villages.
• Dusty main streets, delicious coconut shakes and amazing sunsets over Mekong river in the capital Vientiane.
• Vang Vieng transformation from a small village to a crossroads of world cultures.
• Biking to Hmong village, observing simple life and battle for survival.
• Navigating Mekong river on a slow boat.
• Exploring Luang Prabang – where golden-roofed Buddhist temples and vestiges of colonial French architecture perfectly match.

Known in the ancient past as the land of a million elephants, after three centuries of fighting with neighboring countries, France and the US, Laos has finally come to peace. At the turn of the millennium, Laos opened its doors to foreign visitors more than ever in its history. It was the perfect timing to explore its untouched beauties.

Laos was part of the Big Asian Tour from Australia, through South-Eastern Asia and China to India. During this 15-months long trip I visited most of the countries in the region and spent almost a month travelling around Laos.

“Laos is very expensive, boring, uninteresting! Don’t go there!”, a strange Frenchman was warning me me on the Thai side of the mighty Mekong river. Three days earlier, he had been in Laos for only a few hours, but he was so confused that he walked on foot with a backpack on his shoulder the last part of 20 kilometers segments from the Lao capital Vientiane to the border.

I didn’t pay attention to opinions of weird French and his Japanese travelling buddy too seriously, so I inevitably walked across the Friendship Bridge to a country with sixty-eight ethnic groups, strong agricultural tradition, Buddhism as a predominant religion and long-term isolation from the rest of the world.

If commonly capital cities are a center of wealth, history and beauty of the whole nation, then Vientiane certainly does not embody most of it. With a mix of Thai, Chinese, Vietnamese, French and Soviet influences, it ranks among the three classic cities of Indochina (the other two are Saigon and Phnom Penh).

Dusty main streets, old colonial buildings, a few Buddhist temples and the main market held less interest in me than a breathtaking sunset over Mekong River. Observing lazy tanned river, I chilled out with a cool coconut shake and admired turbulent happenings on the road. The twelfth longest river in the world and the tenth largest, despite its size, remains almost untouched.

Prior to the construction of the Thailand-Laos Friendship Bridge in 1993, not a single bridge connected its shores in Southeast Asia; with the exception of the Mekong Delta in Vietnam, there are no major cities along it. The Mekong’s hydropower potential is comparable to Indonesia’s total oil reserves, and plans to build power plants in Laos and China are nearing completion. In the waters near the city of Huy Xai live the largest freshwater fish in the world, which grows up to three meters and reach a weight of 300 kilograms. They catch only about 50 of them each year, so their meat has an extremely high value on the market.

With only 150,000 inhabitants, Vientiane cannot be considered a real metropolis, yet. My mouths and face were covered with dirt as soon as a car or similarly sized vehicle passed by. Due to the impossible dust, it is very difficult to walk on its streets without a handkerchief or mask on your mouth.

Laos is full of mysteries, stories and historical facts that are slowly leaking to public medias. One of these stories is about a war monument Patuxai. A copy of the Paris Arc de Triomphe was built with cement donated by the US government originally planned to construct a new airport. It took the builders almost nine years to finish the monument dedicated to people who fought in the struggle for independence from France. While the monument is dedicated to all Lao fighters, who fell in the wars before independence in 1953, the plans for new airport remained in drawers.

The most important national monument Pha That Luang embodies the Buddhist faith and the independence of Laos. The pointed tip, clad in gold hues at the top, is reminiscent of an avant-garde rocket before space flight. After construction in the second half of the 16^th century, its glory lasted only 60 years before it was damaged by the Siamese and Burmese armies. French architects restored it to its present-day splendor in the 1930s, culminating in the That Luang festival at the full moon in November.

One of the most interesting attraction on the outskirts of the capital is the so-called Buddha Park Xieng Khuan – a collection of Buddhists – Hindu sculptures, monuments and mosaics of yoga, established by shaman – monk Luang Puu Bunleua Sulilata. The latter combined Hindu and Buddhist philosophy, mythology and parables into a picturesque whole.

In Laos and the northern part of Thailand, where he lived during the revolution around 1975, he gained many like-minded people. According to a legend, Luang Puu was walking over the hills when he fell through a hole into an underground cave, where he remained for seven years. The tall sculptures in the park depict images of Shiva, Vishnu, Buddha and other Hindu-Buddhist deities, while the most imaginative is a 15-meter concrete ball with tunnels inside. The three floors illustrate hell, earth and heaven.

Despite a kind of soft communism system, the entrepreneurial vein of diligent Laotians has already been showing its first results. There aren’t many cyber cafes with an internet connection yet, but the two competitors in the half-ruined colonial buildings are already a real lure for the farangs – Southeast Asian word for foreigners. Dust in the air, icy cold drink and a keyboard brought me closer to my home for a few moments, after a long time.

“Your internet connection is very expensive!“, I complained to a young yuppie, who collects money for his boss. Only a weeks ago on the other side of Mekong river, I received the same service for twenty times less money. “LOL. There is Thailand, and here is Laos!”, laughed a young entrepreneur, who knows too well that he is employed in one of the only two exclusive internet cafes in all of Laos.

It would be utopic to expect a service of the latest electronic acquisition on every corner at low price, in a country where 80% of the active population makes a living from agriculture, fishing and forestry, 10% work for the military and 10% are officially unemployed.

With a GDP per capita at 370.00 US$, Laos is among the ten poorest countries in the world. There is practically no industry; all products are imported from neighboring Thailand or China. A large part of the population spends several hours a day picking branches in surrounding forests to be able to cook food or warm themselves during cold winter nights.

The transportation supply at Vientiane bus station is not as wide as in neighboring countries, so it is necessary to make an effort for a comfortable seat. It is only a wishful thinking to reach my next destination Vang Vieng in an hour or two, although 160 kilometers on the map might make it feasible. A conductor whose hands are full of worthless banknotes, charges me 3,000 kips for the ride. A quick calculation shows it is equivalent to only 0.35 US$.

The highest existing banknote in Laos is valued at 5,000-kips, representing slightly more than 0.50 US$. Such high value banknotes are used almost exclusively by tourists, while locals usually pay with piles of banknotes of lower denominations of 500 or 1,000 kips, which are virtually worthless. Instead of a wallet, a plastic bag is used to accommodate bundles of banknotes.

The skill of counting money is a virtue of every adult resident of Laos – a kind of national sport.

After less than six hours of driving, we reach the last discovered Lao hidden gem, which has been (un)fortunately transforming into a traveling Mecca. Cheap guesthouses, restaurants with a mix of Lao-European food and unspoiled nature in the surrounding area have been transmuting a backward village settlement of Vang Vieng into a crossroads of world cultures.

“My bulldozer! I worked here before!”, an owner of a small ten-room hotel explained to me in broken English. He used to work on a large bulldozer for a French company, whose business is building new roads, until 10 months ago. Despite the fact that he is charging under 2.00 US$ from his tenants per day, it is enough for a comfortable life.

He took a few months off from the company work, as he is the only one in the family who speaks a little bit of English. Every morning he places a big tape recorder in guesthouse’s courtyard and plays Bob Marley’s music out loud. “I like music, not a bulldozer!”.

This is the success story of many Vang Vieng residents, who, fortunately, have not been spoiled by money yet, as they still remain simple and accommodating. They treat themselves as friends, not competitors. Let’s hope that the harmony will continue and the area remains pleasant to visit and comfortable for local residents.

I rode a rented bike far away from the cosmopolitan village to avoid loud Israelis and bloated Americans, who already outnumber the natives in the center of Vang Vieng. I had no intention of visiting any of the underground caves as I had seen the most beautiful Tham Jang cave the day before. Children along the road waved excitedly at me and shouted: “Sabai-dee, Sabai-dee, OK!“. Indeed, Sabai-dee is the magic word (meaning well comfortable) that fascinates Lao visitors and shows good intentions of kids.

As I crossed a creek, a dirty boy in torn clothes directed me along a narrow path, almost overgrown with lush vegetation: “Hmong village! Five minutes, you can’t miss it!” I almost gave up, as there were no signs of life for a few kilometers, but then I suddenly came across herd of cows and a five minutes later arrived to a small village surrounded by rice fields and high hills from all around.

Two boys bordering school age took courage and approached me shyly. Their sparkling smiles and the reactions of other simply dressed villagers let me know that not many foreigners have visited their homes yet. An older lady offered me a small footstool, all eight children, a few grandchildren and the master stared at me. When they showed me their poverty-stricken home, I found out they were sleeping, cooking and playing in the only room that the hut possessed. Nearby bushes were used as a toilet, showering and washing were done in a nearby stream.

An old tire of a broken bike gives children the same pleasure as the latest computer game in our developed world. A rubber slingshot in their hands and behind the belt a bag of stones is perfect equipment for hunting birds or perhaps just a dangerous game with friends.

We exchange a few words in different languages, but any profound conversation was out of the question. I offered them food and drinks that I carried. They happily accepted it.

“Goodbye farangs!” and their life returns to normal.

For a long time, members of the Thai tribes – Kadias and Hmong – Mien cultivated the land by arson system and migrated throughout the territory of present-day Laos. In the middle of 14^th century, the Khmer landowner Fa Ngum founded his kingdom of Lan Xang in the vicinity of the city of Luang Prabang, which later split into three parts. By the end of the 18^th century most of Laos came under Thai rule, while Vietnam also showed open interest in collecting taxes from this territory. The 19^th century was marked by the French conquest of Indochina, of which Laos also became a part in 1893, signing the agreement with Thailand. In 1953, Laos was granted the status of an independent, sovereign state, but the conflict between the royal government in Vientiane and the communist movement Pathet Lao did not bring peace.

At first, the secrets of theoretically non-existent war started to reveal slowly, but when the hail of verified facts poured out, the world public was stunned. The civil war between 1964 and 1973 was much less bloody than in Vietnam or Cambodia, but American bombing of eastern Laos resulted in huge casualties and the relocation of most of the population from that region. The city of Long Ting, which is not even on maps, has grown into Lao’s second largest city at the expense of the US military base; the local airport has become one of the busiest in the world. American planes took off on average every eight minutes, 24 hours a day, for 9 years, non-stop. The main task: dropping bombs on shelters of Pathet Lao movement members.

The code of military ethics forbade Americans in Vietnam from bombing Buddhist shrines within 500 meters, in Cambodia within 1,000 meters, while in Laos there were no restrictions. In nine years, American planes dropped 1.9 metric tons of bombs, which means 10 tons of bombs per square kilometer of Laos. In other words; every child, mother or father received more than 600 kilograms of bombs in nine years of war. In addition, the far eastern part was sprinkled with 800,000 liters of herbicides.

Laos has thus become the most bombed country per capita in history. But all this was not enough for Americans to suppress the communist movement that finally took power in 1975 and still rules Laos today.

After three days in Vang Vieng I continue travelling to Luang Prabang. This time the bus is packed with backpackers from all around the world and the price is adjusted to our budget. Who would blame Lao people who have suffered one of the worst injustices in human history, to make some extra money from rich foreigners?

The first Laotian kingdom was founded in Luang Prabang (1353). Its more or less glorious independence ended tragically in 1975, when Pathet Lao took power and the royal couple, together with the heir to the throne, were locked in a cave in the far northeast, where they died a few years later.

The Jewel in Laos Crown, Luang Prabang has managed to preserve its longstanding tradition and charm, exuding a missed-out-on-modernization vibe. The town is exceptional for rich architectural and artistic heritage, which reflects the fusion of Lao traditional urban architecture with that of the colonial era in 18^th and 19^th century. The majority of the buildings are, following tradition, wooden structures in perfect harmony in the natural environment. The sacred Mount Phousi stands at the heart of the historic town built on a peninsula delimited by rivers Mekong and Nam Khan.

It is the Royal Palace, ancient Buddhist temples (32 of which are original), built before French colonization, a mixture of diverse architectural styles, ethnic groups and a pleasant climate that makes Luang Prabang the most outstanding place in Laos.

Logically, the historical and cultural center of Luang Prabang also caught the eye of UNESCO representatives. In December 1995, it was inscribed on the World Heritage List after being dubiously called “the best-preserved city in Southeast Asia“.

Once upon a time, Luang Prabang may have been something really special, but today it is somehow left to its own mercy. After the independence inspirational wave was tragically ended in 1975, the new rulers, presumptuous members of Pathet Lao, preferred to dedicate themselves to the introduction of communist principles, while maintaining or preserving a rich history reflected in temples and Buddhist sacred places was not high on the priority list.

The prominent Wat Xieng Thong and Wat Mai Suwannaphumaham are built in the typical Luang Prabang style with multi-story roof-to-floor roofs and gilded reliefs on the doors, front walls and columns. These temples are the only ones that survived the destruction of the city in 1887.

The former royal palace has been transformed into an interesting museum with restored rooms, instruments, dance masks, Buddha monuments, thrones and gifts from other countries. The latter are divided according to the principle of capitalist or socialist donor system.

What struck me most, was the symbolic gift of the former American president in the form of the Laotian flag, which was apparently taken to the moon by American astronauts in one of the Apollo spacecrafts in search of peace around the world. A piece of the lunar surface is also attached. It couldn’t be more ironical: first Americans bomb innocent people for nine years, then they promote peace in the world.

The next day I got up in at half past five, when it was still dark on the streets and everyday activities were only starting.

Early in the morning, just after dawn, in a time of peace and harmony, Buddhist monks, dressed in simple orange cloaks, barefoot, go for a walk-through residential area of the city. In groups of twenty or thirty, depending on the size of the sanctuary, with the older monks in the foreground and the younger ones at the back, they accept gifts of faithful believers.

Along the way, locals prepare dishes with freshly cooked sticky rice (khao niao). People take off their shoes, sit on bamboo rugs and wait until a group of monks pass by their house. Each of the monks is given a lump of rice in a basket, which they are only allowed to eat in the morning.

If for many travelers Luang Prabang represents the northernmost point in Laos, for me, here the real adventure has just begun. Anyone who has not seen speedboats on the Mekong River probably has no idea how fast and especially dangerous it can be to ride on the water.

The sound of transformed car engines at the rear of a fragile, aerodynamically designed six-person vessel, is very reminiscent of the noise of formula one. When I saw passengers with helmets on their heads, protected in life jackets, who huddled for hours sitting in a humble chair, hoping that the helmsman would not crash into a rock or a wave of a turbulent river, I was clear, that this mean of transport is not suitable for me.

Many times, I take stupid decisions or not evaluate enough all the risk, but the challenge of taking a speedboat on Mekong river was too big. The statistics of accidents, some even fatal, are also frightening.

I swapped the water Formula One for the other extreme: a one-and-a-half-day snail moving upstream on a brown river by a slow boat. The noise of the engine was still too loud for normal conversation with fellow passengers, so I retreated to the roof and contemplated what was happening on the banks of glorious river. Simple bamboo huts are rarely crammed into small villages. Electricity seems to be a few decades away, there will be no road connection with the main urban areas for a long time.

As if time had stopped here! “Laos poor country!”, are the right words that came to my ear. “But good people!“, I replied to the captain before mooring our boat to the shores. The sun has set behind the hill. It is too risky to navigate the river at night.

There was no hotel far around that night. The locals prepared improvised beds for us in one of their houses, women cooked dinner, men offered us opium. I accepted a simple bed and freshly cooked dinner, but politely denied opium smoking.

In addition to domestic animals, rice and opium production are the main sources of income. Stunning poppy is grown both, for its own use and for sale, but it can also serve as a medium of exchange instead of money.

There is no life in Laos without rice. It is most often cooked for several hours in special baskets made of bamboo. In this way it becomes sticky and tastes delicious without any additives, but salt. You shape khao niao, as it is called, into small balls and put it in your mouth while still warm.

Eating plain rice might sound a little lean, but the next morning it tasted blissfully in the comfort of my home bed, as the most delicious breakfast back home.

We arrived to the final destination a tiny settlement of Pakbeng around noon. The village seems to be of very little importance, since the electricity is available only in the evening. And even at that time it’s produced from petrol generators or batteries. The noise of generators overpowers children’s crying, while the engine power cause movements of my hotel floor.

The view of the Mekong river, surrounded by dense rainforest, outweighs the shortcomings of comfort. The light on the ceiling of the room is placed in an unusual position, where the bulb also illuminates the adjacent room! I later found out that there is no switch to turn it off. I lie in my bed at the same time when the rest of the village. The time for rest is not determined by the end of the film or series, but by the moment, when silence reigns and the generators are turned off.

Without spectacular architecture, rich national parks, glittering museums or modern infrastructure, Laos enchants with a mixture of incredibly diverse cultures that live in one country just because of the (un)happy combination of circumstances. It was historically perfect timing, when I visited Laos in 1999, since the country had just opened to foreign visitors.

Many areas were untouched, tourist infrastructure started to appear and people were honestly happy to receive foreigners. Falangs were the best sign that the country was safe.

“The country is the people!”, could be the most appropriate description of Laos. Stay the way you are, let the madness of Western civilization bypass you at least for a while!  Sabai-dee, Sabai-dee OK Laos!