Muang Sing Morning Market

From Odomxai we continued our trek across northern Lao through the town of Luanga Namtha to arrive in Muang Sing in the late afternoon to catch the morning market the next day.

A large metal roofed open air structure houses low tables where sellers display their wares. Young girls shuffle through in flip flops. Hill tribes hustle around in the predawn light. Odors of cilantro mingle with the steady thump of the butcher’s cleaver as he hacks at a piece of meat on the chopping block . Small children scurry to help set up. The tempo increases as the morning light filters into the covered market. There is a constant unintelligible jabber as customers haggle with merchants as they shout out instructions to the children fetch water, tea or breakfast. At this hour there are more sellers than buyers but a steady stream of tuk tuks motos, bicycles and pedestrians slowly changes the ratio.

The nicest tuk-tuk we ever saw

Birds chirp in the trees outside seemingly excited by all the activity within. The harsh guttural sound of a German tourist seems out of place in the low murmur of the Laotian dialects. Old crones in native dress cry “Sabadee” in greeting to entice the few tourists to examine their wares. They are friendly, persistent and insistent. Deb haggles with a woman dressed in the native garb of a hill tribe over some brass bracelets. Another woman in native dress continues to try to convince me to buy a coin on a stick which I am supposed to put in my hair for luck.

Hill tribe women in native dress swirl around Deborah

The smoke of the morning cook fires stings the eyes as the squeal of a pig destined for the dinner table rings out. Large bowls of white pasty liquid tempt passersby. Another native woman jabbers unintelligibly at me. Look! Look! Deb is now surround by a crowd of eager sellers frantic to make that first lucky sale of the day.

Tables are now covered with the bounty of the region. Squash, tomatos, cucumbers, cilantro, mustard and other greens. A cluster of women in the center sell handicrafts, brass bracelets, colorful bags and skirts in intricate designs of subdued reds, greens, yellow and ochre on black backgrounds. Food stalls line the perimeter of the market to nourish hungry shoppers and merchants. A small baby cries for attention. A woman selling vegetable seeds does a brisk business. A spice seller slowly and carefully measures out chili from a large pile.

The market is in full swing now but we are hungry and need to be on a bus soon to the next town.Self portrait "Breakfast in the back of the bus"

Up the Nam Ou

We were tired of buses and being on the "tourist trail" so we broke out and took a trip up the Nam Ou river which is a tributary of the Mekong. We were determined to make a loop of northern Laos with a combination of boats and buses. It turned out to be the best of our trip to SE Asia as we were able to visit several small villages not often seen by other tourists.

We clamber down the banks of the Mekong to find our “river bus” which is a brightly painted canoe on steroids with wood canopy top. We walk a narrow plank up from the sandy beach and settle in to the rough wooden chairs. The boat eventually leaves the dock, reving its engines to fight its way into the current and begin our journey up the Mekong. The smoky morning haze from slash and burn stings our eyes and throat. The river is a glassy brown pool shifting with currents that swirl and whirl around the boat as we pass.

The "river bus"

There is a palpable sense of excitement as our boat makes the transition from the muddy brown of the Mekong to the azure blue of the Nam Ou as we pass the confluence. Soon the boat noses gently into the soft sand of the left bank for a short toilet break. The opposite bank is a sheer limestone kharst soaring at least 1500 feet into the smoke filled morning sky. Soon we continue up the river through a dramatic landscape of giant walls.



After several hours, with backsides aching from too much contact with the rough wooden chairs, we arrive at Nong Kiaw, our destination for the night. Rough brown shacks capped with rusty corrugated tin and thatch pepper the hillside above. A bridge high above the river serves more shacks on the opposite shore.


A long stairway ascends the slope of the river to the village. We climb up to a village of dirt roads, dogs in the streets and plenty of flies for all. The road leads us to the bridge that spans the river. We spy what looks like guest houses that we hope will provide shelter for the night. The first guest house is a series of small thatched bungalows that have seen better days. Some of our companions book a room but it is a little funky for our taste. Farther down the road we find another guest house with a perfect little bungalow with porch perched high above the river which provides a fine view of the village opposite and the towering kharst behind. Despite the smoky air we are enchanted by the view and the peace and quiet of a small village far removed from the city. We go onto the large deck of the in house restaurant and have an ice cold Lao beer as we watch the sun disappear into the smoky haze of the mountains to the west. After a tasty bowl of noodle soup we return to our room and crawl beneath the mosquito net over our bed and call it an early night.The next morning we amble further towards the east of the village. A fresh cut dirt road entices us upward for a high view over the village and surrounding mountains. It is a stunning combination of soaring limestone peaks jungle covered wherever it has not been burned or logged by the land and timber hungry Laos. We like this place but decide to continue up river on the late morning boat.

The smoky air continues as we shove off.


The scenery is very dramatic as the river winds between tall kharsts and cliffs a thousand feet or more above us. After a short time on the river we arrive at the village of Nong Ngoi. This is more charming than the last. Accessible only by river it has remained mostly unspoiled. With no motos buzzing it is a welcome escape from civilization.

Derelict sighting in Nong Ngoi

We snag a beautiful bungalow right at the top of the bank. A hammock on the porch beckons and I succumb to lie and watch the beautiful river flow by. Small boats drift to and away from the beach bringing their catch or freight or passengers.


We decide to rent a small canoe and paddle up the river. After paddling for about a mile we are confronted with a small rapid but we are able to pass it by walking the boat up the river by the bank. We paddle on for a few more miles far away from the village and now we can hear the sounds of the jungle. It is alive with the buzzing, chirping, screeching and chattering of millions of insects. We pull up to the shore but are nervous about venturing too far because of the possibility of unexploded ordinance and mines left over from the Vietnam war. Reluctantly, we turn the boat down stream as the sun is barely over the kharsts opposite and an ethereal light bathes the river and town. The current helps us get back to town. The small rapid we passed on the way up fills the boat with water and I spend the next few minuts bailing. We arrive back in Nong Ngoi tired and happy.






After a brief rest we take a walk over to the local wat. Hawking, spitting, and smoking monks mar the otherwise tranquil setting of the wat with its ornate steep roof piercing the sky. The wat and grounds are a little shabby but occupy an incredibly beautiful setting high above the river. We retrace our steps over a bridge that spans a stagnant pond. I disturb ducks at their waddle as we turn off on a path that leads out into the countryside. After a few hundred yards we pass through another village. People our open air bathing, cooking and washing. Dishes. Pigs, goats and kids run around each other seemingly unaware of their differences. Lazy dogs lie in the road not even bothering to lift their heads at the strangers in the village. We continue on but now it is getting dark so we cross over to another path that will lead us back to town. We pass a large soccer field full of children of all ages kicking around a bald, flat soccer ball. When we pass we are cheered by their innocent play. We resolve to buy them a new ball if one is to be found in the town.

When we enter the town we search fruitlessly for a soccer ball but none is to be had so we head back to the river to find dinner. On a deck high above the Nam Ou we down fried rice, noodles and ice cold Lao beer which as one might suspect is getting to be a regular habit. As we finish dinner, it is now dark and there being nothing to do in this town and very little light to do it we head for bed. As we are walking back to our bungalow by the banks of the river a brisk wind springs up. We are grateful for this because our hot room has no fan and after 10PM no electricity to run one. The wind really kicks up and doors and shutters swing and slam and the sound of corrugated tin slamming off the roof catches our attention. We fall asleep to the sound of the wind which carries away the noise from the many small generators in the village. At times during the night we are awakened by gusts but our thatched bungalow holds firm and we sleep.

The next day dawns much clearer as the wind has blown away a lot of the smoke. We catch the 9AM boat to Muang Khua, the next village up the river.

Up a rapid which is contrary to our normal pattern

The scenery is not as nice and we endure an hour and half stop while the captain disappears into the village above another large sandy beach on the river. We goof with some of the village kids teaching them tic tac toe and building sand castles. The captain finally returns with a big grin on his face so we assume he has been drinking Lao Lao whiskey and beer. These suspicions are confirmed as he drives the boat erratically and stops 3 times in the next hour to water bushes on the shore. I am not too alarmed because the boat is going slowly and we could walk to shore in the event of a mishap. We arrive safe and sound in Muang Khua which is a grotty little town that makes us wish we had spent more time in Nong Ngoi. We had planned to spend the night but were put off by the town. We started walking to the bus station which for some unknown reason was 2 miles away. After a few minutes we flag down a tuk tuk and are whisked to the bus station. We get a ticket to Odomxai and arrive there in the dark and stumble around to find a guesthouse. Next we find a restaurant and gobble some, you guessed it, fried rice and cold beer and call it a night.

Elephant sighting on the Nam Ou

VISIT WITH UNCLE HO

Ho Chi Minh is affectionately referred to by the Vietnamese as Uncle Ho and revered as the father of modern day Vietnam. While the country did not remain true to his communist ideology, it remains an independent country today thanks to his work in throwing off the yoke of French colonialism and defeating the USA in war. Sorry I can't provide any pictures as we are still in Laos with extremely slow internet.

After a few days of exploring the city and trying to set up a tour of Ha Long Bay we decided to pay a visit to what is arguably one of the most bizarre attractions found anywhere in the world; the mausoleum of Ho Chi Minh. Many people go to revere this great man. Others go with a macabre curiosity. Still others go because it is a “must see” in Hanoi. I went with a combination of all of the above. I wanted to know more about this enigmatic man who was a curious combination of warrior, savior, poet and leader.

Visiting Uncle Ho was a study in paranoia and reverence which are two words I don’t usually associate with each other. The security surrounding his corpse is usually reserved for sitting, not to mention living, heads of state. To visit Ho there is a long queue that is nearly half a mile in length. After about half an hour of inching forward you finally arrive at the large granite and marble mausoleum where Uncle Ho lies in state for eternity (except for the few months each year when he is removed for maintenance). When visitors approach the entrance they are admonished to show respect by not talking, chewing gum or even putting hands in their pockets. Even an inadvertent cough draws a glare from the armed guards that line the queue. After walking up the marble stair case and winding through a series of turns one catches the first glimpse. Uncle Ho is preserved under glass in his trademark semi military garb. His wispy white beard accentuates the waxy look of his embalmed body. The effect is accentuated by the dim lighting and somber attitude of the visitors. It is quiet as a tomb. (Sorry just could not resist the analogy) Rumor has it that he has been preserved with the same secret embalming techniques as the Russians used for Lenin. After a few seconds of shuffling by the sarcophagus our visit with Uncle Ho is over and we find our way back to daylight.

We are directed next to the presidential palace in which Ho refused to live because he was a man of the people and felt that it was too ostentatious. At first he lived in the gardener’s residence and in the last few years of his life lived in a small two room teak house on the grounds. There was also a reconstruction of the stilt house where he lived during the war with the US. He conducted the war from a ground level open air war room beneath the stilted house. His sophisticated equipment consisted of a simple wooden table surrounded by ten chairs for the politburo and three telephones on a side table. With a few advisers, a few simple tools, and what I believe to be an intellect unmatched by many of his generation, he defeated the “mightiest “ nation on earth. He did this with a firm belief in his people and his ideology while retaining his humility.

The final part of our visit was to the museum dedicated to Ho Chi Minh. This museum is one of the more interesting museums I have seen anywhere. It intertwines three components; the life of Uncle Ho, the life and times of Vietnam, and an overview of contemporary world history. The museum has countless letters, documents, photos and exhibits of Ho that show his path from a humble birth to communist organizer, patriot in exile and finally the savior of his country. There are abstract sections of the museum that portray contemporary leaders, entertainers and other persons of noteto set the scene for Ho's life . Finally, there are representations of Vietnamese villages, the war with America, and day to day life in Vietnam to complete the picture of the life and times of Uncle Ho.

The visit with Uncle Ho renewed my perception that he was not the evil man as portrayed by America during the Vietnam war. He was a great man who took his country from a feudal state to the country it became in the 20th century. The exhibits showed he was a very intelligent man with unquestionable leadership qualities. Examples of his poetry revealed him to be a sensitive and contempletive man as well. He truly cared about his people and nation. His selfless dedication to his country is unmatched in modern history. One has to respect his accomplishments even though you might disagree with his political philosophy. He was unquestionably one of the great leaders of the 20th century.

Laos

Sorry for the long silence but we have just completed a swing through the Northwest part of Laos where internet has been almost non existent. We had intended a three day side trip which turned into eight days. Stay tuned for the promised visit with Uncle Ho and an account of our travels in Laos.

Hoi An to Hanoi

I have been trying to find time to post on the blog but we have been caught in a whirlwind of traveling, now feeling the time crunch of less than a month to go in our tour of SE Asia. We are "done" with Vietnam and are now in Laos in the beautiful peaceful town of Luang Prabang. Internet is slow here so I will post some pictures when we have faster connection. Meanwhile hope you enjoy the voyage from Hoi An to Hanoi and points in between.

In the last post we visited heaven and hell which was a side trip from the lovely town of Hoi An. Hoi An felt like a French village with an Asian twist. The architecture of the old town is straight out of colonial France typified by stuccoed houses with large terraces and balconies accessed by shuttered French doors. The town is on an estuary so the action centers around the waterfront. The town is totally dependent on the tourism industry and they mostly got it "right" here. It is clean, well organized and well maintained. Quaint shops, restaurants and cafes line the streets. It almost feels like Disneyland because it is almost too perfect. Ian said it felt like a cartoon backdrop that never changes because as one walks down the street one passes a series of souvenir shops, tailors, restaurants and barsthat are interchangeable. Deb and I found it a welcome relief from the nondescript and often dirty other Vietnamese towns.

There were fewer motos here and they were banned from the old town on alternate days which was pleasant indeed. It was calm enough that we felt secure enough to rent bicycles and ride around the town and surroundings. We had several pleasant days riding out to a nearby beach. The trip to the beach was a scenic ride through rice paddies to arrive at a beautiful beach that was thinly populated but had a few beach side restaurants that for the price of a beer, would allow you sit on their lounges under a palapa umbrella for the day. The water was clean and warm with almost enough surf to body surf but not so powerful as to be frightening. While in Hoi An we also fell prey to the urge to buy some tailor made clothing which is a whole other story.

We finally tore ourselves away from Hoi An as we were now feeling the clock ticking realizing we had little more than a month left to see the rest of Vietnam, Laos and Thailand. We caught an agonizingly slow bus to the town of Hue which was described in the guidebook as “sweet gentle Hue”---it was anything but. Hue is where the consciousness of the people seemed to shift from the more laid back attitude of the south (which was by no means laid back by western standards) to the hustle bustle of the north with emphasis on all meanings of the word hustle. Aside from the fact that Hue was a very fast paced city, it started to feel like everyone was trying to hustle or scam us. Shopkeepers would shortchange us. Hotels would quote rates in dollars and when we paid in Vietnamese dong would give horrible exchange rates. Hue was way too busy with way too many motos in addition to being was hot and very humid. In defense of Hue, there were a few sights of historical significance including a palace from the 19th century that was slowly being restored from damage caused by the good old USA during the war. There were also several ornate temples and tombs of kings.

Still feeling the time crunch, we opted to fly on to Hanoi for our last week in Vietnam. We thought Hanoi would be a good base for a few day trips Nihn Binh, some outlying pagodas and the very beautiful Ha Long Bay.

After an early morning flight which dropped us into the morning madness of Hanoi's rush hour, we made our way to the Old Quarter of Hanoi jammed knee to elbow with a dozen other tourists and their luggage in a mini van designed for half as many. We walked about ¾ of a mile to our hotel through the narrow streets of the Old Quarter teeming with motos, cyclo cabs, and coolies carrying everything imaginable from passengers, to pigs to refrigerators. When the sidewalks weren’t covered with parked motos, they were blocked by street cafes with patrons sitting on kid sized plastic stools sucking in the fumes of the motos along with their morning pho. Pedestrians had to sharethe street with sidewalk to sidewalk motor traffic. After fifteen minutes of dodging motos and cyclo cabs we arrived at our hotel slightly dampened by the cool morning drizzle. After freshening up and dropping our bags, we hit the street again to further sample the chaos of Hanoi. The incessant buzz and beeping of the motos was enough to drive any sane person crazy. Thank god we aren’t sane.

Despite the chaos, we liked Hanoi. There is an energy and vitality there that was not present in most of the other cities we visited in Vietnam. Perhaps it is the energy of a city that is a 1000 years old. Perhaps it is the legacy of Uncle Ho who brought freedom from the yoke of over 100 years of French domination and brought them to new heights after defeating the good old USA in the war. Perhaps it is the influx of all manner of people from all corners of Vietnam to take advantage of the economic opportunities as a result of the implementation of the free market economy 15 years ago.

Stay tuned for an account of our visit with Uncle Ho.