The 22 hour bus ride to Luang Namtha Revisited

Pakmong a major road junction north of Luang Prabang. Go left to Udomxai and China, go right to Nong Kheaw, Sam Nua and Vietnam. Rain.

I caught the Bus to Luang Namtha again, this time jumping on in Vang Vien and getting off in Luang Namtha only to catch the morning sawnthaew over to Muang Long. The ride ended up being about 27 hours overall, 31 hours door to door.

Vang Vien has a new bus station out by the market that's pretty nice, I waited there for the bus to drive by. After a while I went out to stand by the sign at the road, the bus doesn't pull into the station, only stops for a minute. I was the only one getting on. Despite making decent time the bus didn't roll into Luang Prabang until after dark. The guard who had been sitting across the aisle from me and chit chatting most of the way got off. What a bore it must be riding back and forth to Luang Prabang day in and day out.


Vang Vien bus station

I'd been looking forward to dinner at the southern bus station in Luang Prabang for quite a while, instead it wasn't even a toilet break. The driver said we'd be stopping in Pak Mong for dinner.

In the dark of the bus, and after Luang Prabang people began to talk amongst themselves and folks wanted to know who in the heck I was, you know what's my story. Why am I speaking Lao, who do I know in Luang Namtha, that kind of thing. I could hear my answers being relayed to those too far away to hear and also being commented on and interpreted as they were passed on.

I too had questions. Like why could I understand them when they talked to me but not when they talked to each other. I'd been eavesdropping a lot since Luang Prabang and I would only recognise a few words. I understood in bits and pieces. I was only guessing as to what was being said when I heard a familiar word once in a while. It was like listening to Lao being spoken under a blanket or with a mouthful of marbles. Then when someone talked to me it was once again en clair.


Inside the bus

Lots of laughs and discussion when they finally figured out what my problem was. The older guy closest to me said, "we're speaking Lu!" more laughs. I'd been listening to them speak the language of the Tai Lu, an ethnicity common to the lowlanders of Luang Namtha. It's kind of like Lao and shares some words I guess.

At Pak Mong I bought some oranges and a bag of those Thai shrimp flavored potato chip things. I think it was raining slowly.

At Luang Namtha I recognised nothing, it was still night. A couple other people were headed for the local bus station too and I tagged along. After shivering for a little while it began to get light and I walked out to the road, the local bus station was almost in Luang Namtha itself. The internet place was closed so I wandered up to Zuelas and my friend Vong was eating breakfast, Sai brought me a cup of hot tea bless her heart and I sipped hot tea and made small talk before heading back down to the station to catch the sawngthaew over the hill.


Check point in mountains above Muang Sing

I convinced a couple of women waiting to go to Muang Sing that the sawngtheaw to Long would pass through Sing on the way by and the driver left with only 3 passengers. Being the first vehicle in the morning he was sure to pick up lots of fares, and he did.

Not too far below the highest point of the road from Muang Sing there is a checkpoint that doesn't necessarily seem like one. It's Lao style, flowers and a restroom of sorts. I didn't get the impression the two young women I was with understood that this wasn't just a stop for the toilets suplied by the government. All the vehicles traveling out of Muang Sing get checked for drugs. Beyond is one of the main opium producing areas of Laos and the major transport route for methamphetamine labs in Buma. This is the only road check within Laos that I can think of.

Goats belonging to checkpoint staff.

A couple hours later I was checking in to the Homephan Guest house in Muang Long. A brief and pleasant 31 hours since leaving my hotel in Vang Vien.

Homephan Guest House. Market and bus stop right of the third and fourth utility pole down the street.

Ban Ha Sip Song

Tree in front of Wat Song Buay on the way there

To kill time waiting to leave Laos I took my rental bike and drove up to the Hmong town at kilometer 52 on the road to Luang Prabang, named Lak Ha Sip Song, appropriately enough.

I stopped at Lak Ha Sip Song once before when riding up to Vang Vien with my in laws. I'd always wanted to spend a little time again looking the town over. For many Hmong in America the town is their best known destination in Laos. It's a Hmong town, but being so close to Vientiane it's accessible.


Market from the south west corner.

The bike was some old clunker I rented for four dollars a day from the guy who has a sign on a tree across from Kap Jai Duh. Both brakes weren't so great, rear ones sounded like metal on metal and they're the ones I like to use first. My usual technique for a quick stop is to lock up the rear tire then pump the front brakes letting off on them only long enough to keep the thing off the ground. It's worked so far. On this bike I had to use the front breaks a lot more than I like, oh well, just go slow and drive defensively right?

It was Saturday morning and traffic was light. The road is fairly straight and flat. The road passes through mostly rural areas but of course being the main road stores and businesses are frequent.

Alley on north side of market


Shophouses in Ban Ha Sip Song

For quite a while I followed a truck hauling an old D-7 cat on a lowboy. He was moving right along and used his air horn gently but often to clear the road of motorbikes and pedestrians. There's something about the idea of fifty thousand pounds of steel hurtling down the narrow two lane road that clears the way. He was moving faster than all the local traffic and the rich folks in SUVs and pickups were reluctant to get in front of him.

My biggest worries on the motorcycle are people entering traffic from the side blindly and others driving down the shoulder on the wrong side. Following the lowboy all I had to do to be safe was to tuck up right behind his rear tires until the road cleared out again.


Maykue Guest House next to market

Actually being there wasn't so thrilling, I was glad I hadn't wasted time actually getting off a bus and getting a room there. Just another Lao town. Ok, the people have longer faces, they are Hmong. But they wear Lao clothes and listen to Thai pop music. The market is alright but then so are the markets in a lot of towns. It's supposed to have a lot of food from the forests, I didn't see any endangered dolphins strung up to make jerky or anything. Maybe there's more to the place and I was just in a cynical, "been there done that" kind of mood.

There is a guest house, and the owner claimed they had rooms with hot water. Hot water is my new standard for hotel rooms. Place has hot water it's ok with me. If there were internet in town it would probably be a nicer place to hang out than Vientiane. Damning with faint praise.

Boon Vong Journal

I don't often post about Lao Americans. Mostly this is a blog about Laos and Laotians, but I personally am very interested in the subject.

Most of my Lao friends here are people who came to the US as adults, either recently or back in the day. They are more comfortable speaking Lao than English. I'm also friends with people who are Lao by ethnicity but who grew up in America. I feel proud when I see them succeed within the greater framework of American society. They are very American, but are also Lao. The things they write allow me a perspective into Lao culture that I'm seldom able to get from my fellow falangs, yet they can express it not only in the language of America but within the cultural context of modern American life.

Some of the blogs I read are written extremely well with a poignancy about life and it's connection to their Lao-ness that cuts to the quick. I don't link to these blogs. Some of them are very personal, dealing with matters of self identity and family. I think they might well be written for a limited audience. My web crawler sorts them and alerts me to posts.

The photographer and artist below is someone who obviously knows his blog might well be looked at by many people so I link here. Take a look especially at his drawings, you can find many via the link on his side bar. They seem to be from photos but with a soul inserted into the image. They are very realistic, but even more true than a photo if you follow me.

http://www.b-vong.com/journal/



Time and again I think I recognise the people in the pictures only to realize that they aren't some one's kids I saw at the party or down at the Lao store. They are as Lao as the sound of the saat hitting the coke, or the steam of sticky rice in the kitchen or tang jeao padek. And they are 100% American.


http://www.b-vong.com/journal/

When the charger broke

My camera uses rechargeable batteries. Mostly I like it, one charge lasts a long time, no batteries to throw away. I keep everything charged up as much as I can. Never know when there might be no electricity for a while.

So I was sitting in my hotel room minding my own business and my camera battery charger starts doing one of those sparking smoking type things that you just know aren't going to end up well. By the time I unplugged it whatever was happening had finished doing it's thing.

I was concerned but not despondent. Three fully charged batteries might well last quite a while. No reviewing and deleting photos, just turn it on, snap, then off it goes. More than likely the geniuses down at the market could fix it.

So down the the big market in Pakse I trotted, or scooted to be more exact. I walked through the phone section until I found a store that not only worked on phones but had a few cameras and video cams lying around in various states of repair. I told him it was sick, figured that was close enough, and he peeled it apart stuck the ohm meter on it. Ten seconds later he speed dialed someone, hung up and said, "Lao no have" then looking at me and using the probe from the ohm meter to point at one of those tiny cylinders with wires coming out the end said emphatically, "this, this, this, no have in Lao"

Yes he was speaking English, doggone kids. Probably Vietnamese or Chinese or something. No doubt hated English in school but aced it anyway to go to the good college. And that third language without even trying he speaks it a lot better than I speak the language of the market. I thanked him heavily, he smiled, shrugged his shoulders and said, "maybe Thailand". I still had one possibility.

As soon as I got to Vientiane I got myself on down to the morning market. They are tearing it up and it's hard to find your way around now. Huge pieces are construction zones. Shame really it used to be pretty easy, all the stores that sold similar stuff in one place, many ways to enter or leave each section.

The gold repair used to be along the east side back in the day, adjacent to the street across from the bus station but a little further down. Now it's just off the corner on the east side and no parking on the street. The turn in is where they take away all the trash too so it's not always pleasant.






He's the guy behind the counter

I found the gold repair places and sure enough that same guy was there who fixed my telephoto back thirteen years ago. We spoke Lao. I told him I didn't think it could be fixed in Laos. He did the same thing with the call on the cell phone but told me it would be 300,000 kip and the part would come from Udon Thani on the bus. I said great. Then he asked me if I understood and started to write it out so I repeated it slowly and said I understood. Some electronics store in Udon Thani would have to ship it on the bus, it would get left across the street, and he'd go get it and probably pay the money which would then reverse the same route. I thought the charge reasonable.

Lots of love for old TV repair men who have evolved with the times and also young smart Asian techies no matter thier country of orgin.

Vang Pao charges dropped

Last night I turned my web browser to read that all charges had been dropped against General Vang Pao. The general stood accused of plotting the overthrow of the Lao Government.


I was a guest in a Hmong house last winter, the first time I'd ever done so. There were marked differences from Akha or Lahu. Notice how it's built on the ground, not so drafty, nice clay oven,also a good roof of split wood not straw. It's the one in the background.

The ending to the story is a lot less melodramatic than the beginning. An out of control ATF agent suggested to a retired American officer that he supply guns to the Hmong. The whole plot was an idea hatched in the mind of a rogue American policeman abetted by a retired American Army Officer and later to include a couple of old Hmong guys. They were about as ready to take over Laos as I am to fly to Mars. No arms purchased, no army raised, just a silly attempt to further some policeman's career.

Links:
U.S. Drops Case Against Exiled Hmong Leader - NY Times

Gen. Vang Pao's Last War - NY Times




General Vang Pao


What about the damage done to Lao / Hmong relations?

The whole whoopla gave plenty of cover for both the Lao and Thai governments to be a lot more proactive in resettling Hmong refugees from the camps in Thailand. There was also friction between Lao militias and Hmong in already resettled villages in Bokeo province, and around all sides of Xaysombone. Many Laotians assumed they were about to be attacked by Hmong guerrillas, after all it was just recently that the Hmong stopped receiving arms and money via the porous Thai border.



Vang Pao 1961


Another aspect is the disrespect shown to the old General himself, after all America is definitely in his debt. He not only fought a war for us, in which tens of thousands of his people were lost, and and contributed greatly to the war effort in Vietnam but his forces saved innumerable US air force pilot's lives. He is now 79, in the twilight of a life spent mostly fighting for US causes or recovering from that fight.

I think our government owes an apology for over reaching and a certain ATF agent should be looking at facing a jury.

Tad Fan / Sihom Sabai Guest House

A different view of Tad Fan, from the top of the falls. Click for a clear picture



I first noticed the sign for Siihom (pronounced "see home")Sabai on the way to Paxon, couldn't miss it, big billboard, "guest house Sihom Sabai 200m".

Later after renting a motorcycle in Paxon and poking around the area a little I stopped back in to take a look. I thought it ideal. Shady, house set back off the road, small restaurant out front with a big covered table for lounging. I asked about going for a walk and the owner's daughter volunteered that her husband and her brother could act as guides.




Hom, the owner of Sihom Sabai Guest House and many many rai of coffee plantation. Now tends his garden, bounces grand children on his knee, and drinks Lao coffee.



Siihom Sabai is named after the couple who own the guest house Ms Si and her husband Mr. Hom. Their daughter Boontom was the best English speaker there, but she also had a sister working at the Sabaidee 2 Guesthouse in Pakse which is the most popular backpacker Lonely Planet guest house, so I'm sure she too speaks great English. The rates were very low, maybe four of five dollars for a room in the guest house and two or three to "home stay" in their personal house. Don't hold me to the rates, things change, my memory fades.

I returned my motorcycle and came back with my bags early the next morning. All the towns and points between Pakse and Paxon are named after the mile marker, Siihom is at Ban Siisip (village kilometer 40).





Treking guide and his covey.

When I arrived at the guest house I was surprised to see eight or ten other foreigners there. Green Discovery and another company use Sihom Guest House as a place to sleep and a base to start walks into the surrounding countryside. One group was leaving to return to Pakse and another group was beginning their walk that morning. After many coffees and after the second group started walking I met my guides, Ad and Ham, Boontom's husband and the youngest son of Si and Hom.

Ham with coffee and knife in left hand.

Coffee

Eventually we crossed a creek where there was a small house, the owners had been fish farming using the dammed up creek as a water source, they also had these home made rat traps. I have to assume for catching the rat to eat. Inside the bamboo was a loop of wire and a small stick spring loaded to trip the bent bamboo and throttle the rat. I thought I knew all the different traps from when I was a kid but this was a new one on me.

Close up

Edge of Boloven Plateau

Above the house the hill became more rocky and we came to the edge of an escarpment. From our overlook we could look down into the Dong Hua Sao National Biodiversity Conservation Area. I walked in a couple of circles along the ledge until I found the scat from some kind of mid sized cat. I knew this was too good a place not to have a scent marker.

Tad Nguing from above

From our viewing point we walked back to the west heading steadily downhill, crossed the river and abruptly came up on Tad Nguing, a much better waterfall for swimming than Tad Fan.

Tad Nguing from below

Tad Fan Lodge

Later yet we crossed the top of Tad Fan as in the photo at the beginning of this blog post. I bought both of my guides a soda or a coffee at the restaurant but we quickly left. Tad Fan attempts to be a little bit more than is called for. Too much suupap and too little sabai.

Tad Fan

Gate to my overgrown hectare behind bike.

We walked back on the access road to Tad Fan Resort and passed the entrance to a hectare I own there. It's at the Y in the road, feel free to pick the wild coffee or tea. We took a shortcut back so that we didn't have to go all the way out to the road.

Si and Hom of Sihom Sabai

Nong Khiaw / Tiger Trails / Fair Trek

The bridge at Nong Khiaw Riverside Lodge seemingly resting on bridge.

Last winter while wandering through northern Laos I spent the night at Nong Khiaw (Kiao, Keeow, etc) a river crossing town on the Nam Ou above Luang Prabang. I wasn't walking well so my big excursion was a stroll over the bridge and looking at town from the other side of the river. Nong Khiaw seems to be split by more than the river, the west side seems older and where the major portion of the houses are as well as the bus stop. The east side has all the newer river bungalows and I think a different name, Ban Sop Houn.


Pill box on west side of bridge

There was a trekking company in town with it's doors open and no one home, there was even a side entrance from my guest house. I usually stop in at any trekking company while I'm in a town to say hello to the guides. They're a great source of info about the local area and usually speak good English. I made a mental note to myself to stop by later and see what was up.

I'd read a warning online from the owner of the Riverside Guest House that Muang Ngoi Nuah, the tourist destination upriver and the small Hmong villages close by do not have ATMs. I guess some of the people headed to this idylic roadless Shangrila are caught unaware by the lack of machines spitting cash. When I hobbled over to the restaurant lobby the owner seemed pre occupied with the internet connection which had been out for 3 days.He probably makes a lot of his income via prebooked tour groups and desperately needs the internet. In any case I put on my best lost tourist look of despair and asked if any of the Hmong villages had ATM machines. After a couple more minutes of small talk he asked me if I were really serious. I really do sound as dumb as I look.


Veiw of Nong Khiaw from Riverside Lodge

If anyone stops by the Riverside please perpetuate the stereotype by asking if there are ATMs upriver. Check the price before ordering much in the restaurant. Flashpacker territory.

That evening I met the young manager of the local Tiger Trails office, and also a guide who had come down from Luang Prabang to check things out. I talked to both of them for a couple of hours. The young manager appeared to be in his young 30s. Good English, self assured, business like. He was 21, a very mature young fellow, one of those people whom you meet and think to yourself, "this guy is going to go far in this world".


Tiger Trails / Fair Trek / Nong Khiaw

His story as best I remember is that he had been taking people out on walks on his own initiative when a couple of satisfied customers mentioned him to the owner of a Trekking company in Luang Prabang. The owner went up to Nong Khiaw, they went on a couple of excursions together and worked out a few basic itineraries. What most interested me was the walk they took for a few days in the Hmong villages in the hills east of town. When I was there no one other than the owner of Tiger Trails and his now local manager had done this walk. I am still very interested.

I read on their web site that they now have a lodge in one of the villages and are working on a store to sell local handicrafts.