Secrets on the Plain of Jars -- July 26, 2007

After relaxing in the languid beauty of Luang Prabang for a week, it was time to head east into the heart of Xieng Khuang Province, home of one of Laos' strangest archeological mysteries - the Plain of Jars. As we bumped along in the rickety bus (with hard seats!), the limestone karst mountains gave way to rolling green hills, until we finally pulled up in Phonsavan. The town itself was fairly ugly - just a dusty, criss-cross of streets lined with dungy shops, a handful of Chinese restaurants blasting karoke into the streets and a few bustling markets.

I met up with a Dutch woman and Spanish guy, and we decided to join a tour group to visit the Plain of Jars, which is actually 400 different meadows and hills littered with thousands of large stone containers. Everything about the jars is a mystery. Archeologists believe they may be about 2,000 years old, but without any organic remains, they have not been able to determine an exact date. Nearby quarries have been found with partially formed jars, but they still have no idea who made them and how.

But the biggest unanswered question of all is their purpose. One theory is that the locations of the jars mark a caravan route to northern India, and the jars were used to collect rainwater that could be boiled into drinking water for the caravan travelers. Another local tongue-in-cheek theory is that the jars were used to make "lao-lao" the famous Lao whisky. The most popular theory is that they were funerary urns, in which cremated bodies were placed, along with beads, iron tools and other personal artifacts. Here, I'm standing in front of the largest jar (six tonnes) so perhaps this one housed an important or wealthy person.



Surrounding the jars is a quiet pastoral landscape with rice fields, rolling hills and small farms. Cows wandered through the Plain of Jars munching on the abundant vegetation poking through the stone vessels. It's hard to imagine that this was also one of the most heavily bombed areas during the Indochinese war.

At the height of the conflict (1964 to 1973), it's been estimated that the U.S. dropped an average of one planeload of bombs every eight minutes, 24 hours a day, for nine years. The destructive evidence was everywhere -- huge bomb craters adorned many of the sites we visited, throughout the towns and villages, empty bomb shells are used as planters, fences and other regular household items. UXO (unexploded ordinance) continue to pose a deadly threat around the Plain of Jars and surrounding countryside; vivid red and white markers set up by a landmine/UXO clearing NGO provided a clear deterrent for us wanderng tourists.

The presence of the UXOs has inhibited the archeologists' efforts, but as the land clearing continues over the next few years, there is hope that eventually, the secrets of the Plain of Jars will be revealed.

The soul of Luang Prabang - July 21, 2007

In Laos, there is a well trodden tourist trail that starts in Vientiene, pauses in Vang Vieng and then winds itself through spectacular mountainous terrain to the ancient royal city of Luang Prabang. At 700 metres above sea level, the surrounding mountains and rivers provide a peacefulness to this languid spot despite the huge numbers of tourists that arrive here every day. Unlike Vang Vieng, the city has managed to maintain a dignified front -- perhaps the dozens of wats and large numbers of monks walking the streets compel visitors to tread carefully and respectfully so as not to disturb the city's ancient Buddhist traditions.

Declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1995, Luang Prabang's main attraction is its architecture. Up until 1975, this was the home of Lao's royal family, which over hundreds of years commissioned the construction of 66 wats throughout the city. The style is distinctive to Luang Prabang - sweeping five tiered gabled roofs, gold plated verandas with intricate carvings of Buddhist folklore, colourful glass mosaics depicting everyday village life. After a particularly devastating attack from a Chinese tribe in the 19th century, the royal family decided to accept protection from the French, which began constructing brick and stucco buildings amongst the traditional Lao shophouses.

Becoming a World Heritage site has turned what was once one of the poorest cities in Laos into a prosperous tourist hub and provided much needed UN restoration funds and an international team of experts to preserve its architectual legacy. Luang Prabang is the kind of city where you enjoy the simple pleasures of wandering the streets and "discovering" the beautiful wats tucked between stately colonial villas.




What I like most about Luang Prabang, however, is the resilience of the Lao culture in the face of increasing numbers of travellers. There is no doubt that tourism has had an enormous impact on the city, and judging by the amount of guesthouses, Western-style restaurants and internet cafes, many of its residents have come to depend on foreigners for their livelihood. Yet, the Lao people seem to have taken this influx of Westerners in stride and have continued to maintain the same Buddhist traditions that have been practiced for hundreds of years. You can see it in some of the quieter moments, like the elderly woman who suddenly bows her head and clasps her hands together as a sign of respect as three monks pass by her doorway. Or the gentle hum of chanting that spill over the wat walls into the streets.

One Saturday afternoon, we were treated to a more colourful example as hundreds of monks in their brilliant orange robes marched down the busiest street as part of a funeral procession for a revered monk. The restaurants and cafes shut down for several hours and Laotions, many of whom travelled from all over the country, lined the streets to pay their respect to one of their greatest spiritual leaders. It was a touching example of just how important Buddhism continues to be in the everyday lives of the local people.



It was also heartening to see that unlike some popular destinations in Southern Thailand where tourism has completely submerged the local culture, Luang Prabang has so far been able to open its doors and share its beauty with the world without losing its soul.

Mixed feelings on Vang Vieng - July 16, 2007

There's nothing subtle about Vang Vieng. Surrounded by spectacular limestone karst peaks and nestled alongside the Nam Song river, this small town has capitalized on its natural beauty to become a backpacker mecca. On my first afternoon I wandered around the town to soak up the stunning scenery and found myself catching my breath a few times as I watched the sun cast a warm light on mountains that seemed close enough to touch.



Not surprisingly, the activities are the highlight of this picturesque town. Tubing down the river seems to be the rite of passage for most travellers here, and several bars have been set up along the shoreline for people to stop and have a beer or two (or several, judging by the level of inebriation). Caving, rock climbing and rafting are all popular here; aiming for a bit of exercise, I chose to go on a kayaking / caving expedition with four other travellers.

First stop was Tham Nam, a 500 metre cave with a tributary of the Nam Song river flowing through. We flopped onto innertubes and using fixed ropes and paddling, we pulled ourselves along the tunnel for about 40 minutes. The cave itself was impressive with stalactites and interesting rock formations along the walls, but it was the sensation of penetrating the unknown darkness on a floating device that I'll never forget. Soon after our cave expedition, we got into our kayaks and headed downstream for 15 kms. There was just the right combination of exciting rapids and calmer waters for my partner and I to get some adrenaline and some exercise.

I've enjoyed Vang Vieng for its magnificent surroundings and fun activities but like any "backpacker mecca" there is a not so nice element that comes with hordes of youngsters invading such a small town. Public drunkenness, young women walking around town in their bikinis (a serious no-no for any Southeast Asian culture), a street lined with resturants playing Friends episodes at full blast, 24-7... it feels a bit too much like spring break in Fort Lauderdale. For me to get a real taste of Lao, it's time to move on!

Vientiene's subtle charms - July 13, 2007

Minutes after my plane touched down in Vientiene, I could feel myself decompressing. In Phnom Penh, you have to arm yourself with patience and good humour to deal with the relentless harassment from tuk-tuk drivers, beggers and street children selling everything from Lonely Planet books, flowers and water. I love Phnom Penh but there is an undercurrent of violence and crime that forces you to always be on your toes. I never thought I would enjoy being ignored, but in Vientiene, it's been an absolute pleasure walking the streets with the locals barely batting an eye at me.

There is something about this city that forces you to slow down. For one thing, it's much smaller than most Southeast Asian capital cities and the traffic is steady but not chaotic -- you don't feel like you're putting your life in your hands when you're crossing the street. But it's more than lack of size or busy-ness that accounts for its laidback atmosphere. The Laotions themselves embody the national psyche of slowing down, not taking on too much stress... you can see it in the markets as shopkeepers huddle behind their desks to play cards or take a nap.

The city itself is an eclectic mix of architecture left behind by the various foriegn conquerers that have occupied the city. A heavy dose of French colonialism can be found in the wide, tree-lined boulevards, the baguette stands and the Arc de Triomphe-esque Patuxi monument.



The Siamese (Thai) influence is evident in many of the wats dotting the city, while the Laotions themselves have built some impressive monuments like the Pha That Luang.



And of course, what would a Communist country be without the socialistic, ulitarian charm of some truly ugly buildings?



Vientiene is not a city full of awe-inspiring sites and attractions, but I have found myself staying here much longer than I had anticipated. Perhaps it's the luxury of time that I am enjoying so much ... along with my nightly ritual of sitting on the banks of the Mekong River to watch the sunset and chowing down on ping kai (grilled chicken), sticky rice and a cold bottle of Beerlao.

My last week in Cambodia - July 9, 2007

I will never forget my last week in Cambodia.

***

The week began with me bringing a tourist to Koh Pdao village as part of the Community Development Tour. I was quite excited as this was our first chance to see the hard work from the past months in action. One of the selling features of the Tour is the opportunity to participate in a CRDT project activity in the village. For this particular trip, we took Carmen, the tourist, to a nearby village to help prepare a vegetable garden at a primary school.

When arrived at the tiny two room school, we peeked into the windows to see rows of young children in blue and white uniforms chanting their lessons out loud. We waved to them, but they were quite shy - they just stared up at us with wide eyes. I'm pretty sure they had never seen a foreigner before. The teacher joined us and we went out toward the back where a plot of land had been squared off by a bamboo fence. This is where CRDT planned to build the garden, to be filled with pumpkins, beans, squash and other nutritious vegetables that would help feed the children.

With hoes and shovels, we began digging the beds and soon, we were drenched with sweat and dirt. The teacher barked out a loud command and the children began pouring out of the classrooms. Some of the older ones picked up the hoes and began digging furiously. It was amazing to see how strong they were and how hard they worked - they put both me and Carmen to shame! The younger children crouched down along the beds to begin weeding out the grass, roots and other debris. I knelt down beside them to help. They all stared at me with astonishment and giggled and whispered to each other.

After we finished the weeding and the beds were neatly set, Checco, the CRDT project officer, gathered the children together to talk about the importance of gardens. As he explained later, many of these children will not go beyond primary school so CRDT wants to educate and train them on these important life skills so when they grow up, they can feed their families. The teacher than asked them to give us a round of applause for helping them on the garden. To have 30 adorable children beaming up at us and clapping wildly -- needless to say, we were both thoroughly touched. They then filed back into their classroom. As we walked out of the school yard, we peeked once more into the windows and waved goodbye. This time the children waved back enthusiastically, and then, without being prompted, again began clapping wildly. My heart melted!

***

On my last night at CRDT, the staff threw a dinner party in my honour. They had been desparately trying to keep it a secret, but I knew they were having a traditional Cambodian dress made for me (if you've ever been invited to a Cambodian wedding, you will know what I mean!). Earlier in the week, one of the women had taken me to a dress shop to help her pick out a dress for a "friend." She was a terrible liar and I knew that something was up!

The women prepared the meal themselves, and invited the staff to return from the field offices for the occasion. I was touched to see that many did show up, with the exception of those who were stationed in Mondulkiri, 12 hours away. Channy, the executive director, stood up to make a toast, and Sokunthy, the financial officer, read a letter in which she thanked me for the work that I had done. They then presented me with the dress. I already knew about the dress, but what I didn't expect was the effort and care the CRDT staff took to make the evening special for me.

As I stood up to thank them for the wonderful evening, I had to choke back tears a few times as a I realized just how much they had come to mean to me. In two short months, they welcomed me with open arms and made me feel like a part of their family - and were always eager to re-introduce me to my Cambodian heritage. When I left the CRDT office for the final time that evening, everybody gathered in the courtyard to wave goodbye. As I drove off, I knew that I was so fortunate to work for such a great organization and to become friends with some amazing people in the process.