Yes. We were there . . . and the account of those days are trapped on my (heretofore) trusty netbook in technology never-never land. In trying to upload pictures to post (a continuing battle on this journey) a malfunction occurred that even my go-to-guys for all things computer (Zach and Quint) couldn’t fix. Alas.
So for now I yield to the whims of technology and the ‘no-promises’ that comes with travel. It’s all good . . . and all a lesson in not being too attached to ‘stuff’ or to the illusion of control. (Also a lesson, perhaps, in backing up your work.) So come back later for the chapter on Mongolia. Meanwhile, thanks to the services of an internet cafe (1000 kip for every 10 minutes); let me tell you about Laos.
Only 16 of us continued for the week in Laos after the end of our China trek. At the Beijing airport sad good-byes were given to the eight who were catching flights back home to summer school, jobs or other travels: Anna, Andrew, Amy, Court, Katy, Victor, Riley and Katrina. Our group seemed suddenly small with tangible holes in our fabric filled only by the distinctive personalities of our missing travel mates.
Laos, or Lao, as those who live here actually call it, is China’s land-locked neighbor to the south. The entire population of this country (6 million) is less than half the population of the city of Shanghai where we began our journey. I like the lessons that come through contrasts and from Shanghai to Laos, the contrasts are profound.
It took three flights to get us here: First, from Beijing to Kunming in the south of China. Second, from Kunming to Vientiane, the capital of Laos. In Vientiane we boarded a small propeller plane (another ‘first’ for most of this group) for a fanciful flight over thatch-roofed villages, rice fields, jungled and mountainous countryside into the town of Luang Prabang. It is hard to fathom what this tiny county did to earn the sad distinction of being the most heavily bombed county in modern history. More bombs were dropped on Laos during the Vietnam conflict than on all of Europe combined during WWII.
We have come here at the invitation of Vansana Nolintha and his family. A Caldwell Fellow, Vansana heads this fall to graduate school in Ireland. He attributes the influence of growing up in post-war Laos as a compelling force for his choice of graduate studies in peace and conflict resolution. It is my second time here, having come at the end of our Fellows trip to Thailand, three years ago. I have happily anticipated a return visit to the graciousness of this country and the Nolintha family.
CHINA and LAOS: A STUDY IN CONTRASTS
Some snapshots of the contrasts between the two countries of this journey seem a most fitting way to describe Laos.
Food: We were content enough with food in China, especially the dumplings. The family style meal we shared each day had its own special charm. Twelve of us each around a circular table, typically with a ‘lazy-Susan’ style tray in the center. Dish after dish of food trickled out in the arms of servers until the center would heave with dishes of all manner of Chinese concoction. It was a challenge to eat even half the food put before us at each meal; bounty of food simply seemed to be the norm, it wasn’t that we didn’t eat with gusto. Aside from the occasional dish or our journey into Mongolia where we literally sweated over Mongolia hot-pot, Chinese food did leave some of with a longing for spicy food.
Food in Laos met that longing and exceeded it. Aside from the fundamental similarities of a prevalence of rice and the continuing scarcity of dairy foods, Lao cuisine much more resembles Thai food than Chinese, complete with a bounty of fresh herbs and hot peppers.
A small book with blank pages has been making its way around our group during our final week. We call it The Book of Firsts with each page an entry of a ‘first time’ experience someone has had on this trip. Thanks to a memorable lunch of beef basil and its generous portion of hot peppers, Quint can now claim his first experience of literally crying his way through a meal.
‘Lao Coffee’ would be another first for most of us. Strong dark coffee is only half of it. .. the distinctive ingredient is a layer of sweetened condensed milk in the bottom of the cup. It is usually a sweet surprise at the bottom of a first cup, after that you learn to stir before you drink.
We all find ourselves strangely missing chopsticks here. They had become second nature and using a fork now seems odd.
Transportation
One can easily walk most of Luang Prabang. For farther distances, ‘tuk tuks’ are the taxis of this town, a three-wheeled motor vehicle with covered extension on the back and two benches facing each other. Like China, motorcycles and bicycles dominate. While Laos gets my vote for best food, China wins hands for efficient transport in the rain. Drivers on a rainy day in Laos are hunched forward with an umbrella at 45 degrees to shield the on-coming rain; backsides are often wet. In the event that two people are on the vehicle, the driver has choice of two luxuries: either one umbrella and two hands on the steering wheel, or two umbrellas and a drier ride.
As for China, I loved a rainy day just to see the sea of purple, green, blue and yellow ponchos that emerged . . . and not like any ponchos I’d ever seen. Someone stands to make a small fortune to export the Chinese rain poncho, designed big enough to fit snugly over the front and rear of a vehicle, with slits for the side view mirrors and a clear strip of plastic for the headlight. Tucked underneath are a dry driver and his parcels. I had fun searching traffic to spot a pair of little legs dangling beneath a rain poncho, the only sign that an otherwise invisible child was onboard.
Religion
China, particularly in its urban centers, has a striking absence of religious structures and influence. While religious practice is now tolerated, it is not prevalent. In contrast, Laos is distinctly Buddhist. Orange-robed monks are a picturesque and common site and temples, or ‘wats,’ are numerous. Our deep immersion into Buddhist ritual came with the correlation of our visit with a grand twice-in-a lifetime ceremony at the Nolintha home. It stretched out over two days. The three hundred guests included a cadre of monks, our group, countless family members and friends and even the Governor of the province and the country’s cultural ambassador to Vietnam. The Laotians looked elegant in their traditional dress and our guys broke out the new suits which each had tailor-made while we were in Beijing. Two meals were part of the festivities. We dined under white tents erected on the Nolintha’s lawn in front of their spacious home. Laotian dancers preformed to the band playing traditional music. In due time, we were all dancing . . . Laotians and Americans together. They sang for us . . . we sang for them . . . toasts were made . . . language barriers became incidental.
We leave Laos with the artifacts of the final ritual of the two days, a baasi ceremony. For three days we will wear the many bracelets of white string which adorn each of our forearms, the bracelets tied there by the Nolinthas, their friends and family. Each strand represents the blessing of the person who tied it there, and with it their wish for our safe travel, our good health and happiness, and their wish that some day we return again to Luang Prabang.
So for now I yield to the whims of technology and the ‘no-promises’ that comes with travel. It’s all good . . . and all a lesson in not being too attached to ‘stuff’ or to the illusion of control. (Also a lesson, perhaps, in backing up your work.) So come back later for the chapter on Mongolia. Meanwhile, thanks to the services of an internet cafe (1000 kip for every 10 minutes); let me tell you about Laos.
Only 16 of us continued for the week in Laos after the end of our China trek. At the Beijing airport sad good-byes were given to the eight who were catching flights back home to summer school, jobs or other travels: Anna, Andrew, Amy, Court, Katy, Victor, Riley and Katrina. Our group seemed suddenly small with tangible holes in our fabric filled only by the distinctive personalities of our missing travel mates.
Laos, or Lao, as those who live here actually call it, is China’s land-locked neighbor to the south. The entire population of this country (6 million) is less than half the population of the city of Shanghai where we began our journey. I like the lessons that come through contrasts and from Shanghai to Laos, the contrasts are profound.
It took three flights to get us here: First, from Beijing to Kunming in the south of China. Second, from Kunming to Vientiane, the capital of Laos. In Vientiane we boarded a small propeller plane (another ‘first’ for most of this group) for a fanciful flight over thatch-roofed villages, rice fields, jungled and mountainous countryside into the town of Luang Prabang. It is hard to fathom what this tiny county did to earn the sad distinction of being the most heavily bombed county in modern history. More bombs were dropped on Laos during the Vietnam conflict than on all of Europe combined during WWII.
We have come here at the invitation of Vansana Nolintha and his family. A Caldwell Fellow, Vansana heads this fall to graduate school in Ireland. He attributes the influence of growing up in post-war Laos as a compelling force for his choice of graduate studies in peace and conflict resolution. It is my second time here, having come at the end of our Fellows trip to Thailand, three years ago. I have happily anticipated a return visit to the graciousness of this country and the Nolintha family.
CHINA and LAOS: A STUDY IN CONTRASTS
Some snapshots of the contrasts between the two countries of this journey seem a most fitting way to describe Laos.
Food: We were content enough with food in China, especially the dumplings. The family style meal we shared each day had its own special charm. Twelve of us each around a circular table, typically with a ‘lazy-Susan’ style tray in the center. Dish after dish of food trickled out in the arms of servers until the center would heave with dishes of all manner of Chinese concoction. It was a challenge to eat even half the food put before us at each meal; bounty of food simply seemed to be the norm, it wasn’t that we didn’t eat with gusto. Aside from the occasional dish or our journey into Mongolia where we literally sweated over Mongolia hot-pot, Chinese food did leave some of with a longing for spicy food.
Food in Laos met that longing and exceeded it. Aside from the fundamental similarities of a prevalence of rice and the continuing scarcity of dairy foods, Lao cuisine much more resembles Thai food than Chinese, complete with a bounty of fresh herbs and hot peppers.
A small book with blank pages has been making its way around our group during our final week. We call it The Book of Firsts with each page an entry of a ‘first time’ experience someone has had on this trip. Thanks to a memorable lunch of beef basil and its generous portion of hot peppers, Quint can now claim his first experience of literally crying his way through a meal.
‘Lao Coffee’ would be another first for most of us. Strong dark coffee is only half of it. .. the distinctive ingredient is a layer of sweetened condensed milk in the bottom of the cup. It is usually a sweet surprise at the bottom of a first cup, after that you learn to stir before you drink.
We all find ourselves strangely missing chopsticks here. They had become second nature and using a fork now seems odd.
Transportation
One can easily walk most of Luang Prabang. For farther distances, ‘tuk tuks’ are the taxis of this town, a three-wheeled motor vehicle with covered extension on the back and two benches facing each other. Like China, motorcycles and bicycles dominate. While Laos gets my vote for best food, China wins hands for efficient transport in the rain. Drivers on a rainy day in Laos are hunched forward with an umbrella at 45 degrees to shield the on-coming rain; backsides are often wet. In the event that two people are on the vehicle, the driver has choice of two luxuries: either one umbrella and two hands on the steering wheel, or two umbrellas and a drier ride.
As for China, I loved a rainy day just to see the sea of purple, green, blue and yellow ponchos that emerged . . . and not like any ponchos I’d ever seen. Someone stands to make a small fortune to export the Chinese rain poncho, designed big enough to fit snugly over the front and rear of a vehicle, with slits for the side view mirrors and a clear strip of plastic for the headlight. Tucked underneath are a dry driver and his parcels. I had fun searching traffic to spot a pair of little legs dangling beneath a rain poncho, the only sign that an otherwise invisible child was onboard.
Religion
China, particularly in its urban centers, has a striking absence of religious structures and influence. While religious practice is now tolerated, it is not prevalent. In contrast, Laos is distinctly Buddhist. Orange-robed monks are a picturesque and common site and temples, or ‘wats,’ are numerous. Our deep immersion into Buddhist ritual came with the correlation of our visit with a grand twice-in-a lifetime ceremony at the Nolintha home. It stretched out over two days. The three hundred guests included a cadre of monks, our group, countless family members and friends and even the Governor of the province and the country’s cultural ambassador to Vietnam. The Laotians looked elegant in their traditional dress and our guys broke out the new suits which each had tailor-made while we were in Beijing. Two meals were part of the festivities. We dined under white tents erected on the Nolintha’s lawn in front of their spacious home. Laotian dancers preformed to the band playing traditional music. In due time, we were all dancing . . . Laotians and Americans together. They sang for us . . . we sang for them . . . toasts were made . . . language barriers became incidental.
We leave Laos with the artifacts of the final ritual of the two days, a baasi ceremony. For three days we will wear the many bracelets of white string which adorn each of our forearms, the bracelets tied there by the Nolinthas, their friends and family. Each strand represents the blessing of the person who tied it there, and with it their wish for our safe travel, our good health and happiness, and their wish that some day we return again to Luang Prabang.
Snapshots from Mongolia
The ladies pose for a picture after arriving at the Mongolian Yurt-Ranch.
The ladies pose for a picture after arriving at the Mongolian Yurt-Ranch.
The China Fellows exploring the Gobi Desert.
Brian wrestling a Mongolian herdsman.Snapshots from Laos
The Fellows with Van at his family's ceremony.
Vansana's family and our hosts in Laung Prabang
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