Biking in Laos: Part One

My visit to Laos, or "the Lao People's Democratic Republic," was my first time in a communist country, and my first time in a third world country, to boot. Upon crossing the border, I was instantly surprised at how much poorer the country looked compared to Thailand. (The whole time I was in Thailand, I kept commenting that Thailand and Turkey seemed similarly matched in terms of development. At least, ostensibly. I don't know enough about either economies to make a sound judgment. But visually, Laos, was way behind.)

Just a little bit about the country: Laos is traced back to a kingdom which meant "The Land of a Million Elephants." (We had just come from the Ubon Province of Thailand, or the "Land of a Thousand Smiles." Good things are very plentiful in SE Asia.) The capital of Laos is located in the north, in the city of Vientiane. Most of Laos' 6.5 million people live in the north, and definitely the more prosperous. Though in this country, where the majority of people live at the subsistence level, prosperous isn't a word often used. When we crossed the border into Laos, it felt as though we had stepped back 50 years.

The French colonialist occupation could still be seen in the architecture of the larger towns: balconies with railings, the shutters on the windows, the molding, etc.. The French colonialists were present in Laos from the 18th century to 1949. However, after 1949, Laos was torn between the communist and anti-communist world powers. Northern Laos was one of the most heavily bombed areas during the Vietnam War, as the U.S. tried to eliminate North Vietnamese army troops occupying northern Laos. This ultimately started a Civil War in Laos between the US-supported Royal Laotian government and the Laotian communist political movement, the Pathet Lao. The Guardian reported that Laos was hit by an average of one U.S. bombload every eight minutes, 24 hours a day, between 1964 and 1973. US bombers dropped more on Laos in this period than was dropped during the whole of the Second World War. Of the 260 million bombs that rained down, 80 million failed to explode, and remain a dangerous situation in the north today. Laos holds the distinction of being the most bombed country in the world [http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/dec/03/laos-cluster-bombs-uxo-deaths].

In 1975, the Pathet Lao overthrew the Royal Laotian government, and established the Lao People's Democratic Republic, which remains in power today. With only 35 years separating them from these turbulent times, their economoy and quality of life has barely recovered. Subsistence agriculture makes up for 80% of employment, the majority of which is rice farming. Rural housing consists of dilapidated wooden structures that have to be rebuilt after every monsoon season destroys them.

Our biking trip traveled south along the Mekong River into rural Laos, where few had seen many Western tourists, especially ones in spandex on bicycles, and where fewer and fewer cars existed on the roads.



Our tour guide, Noi, was 27 years old, unmarried, and from the town of Pakse, a larger town in the southern part of the country. She clearly loved her job, and through talking to her, we found it was a very reputable job - for a Laotian to learn English and get involved in the tourism business was highly revered- but to also ride your bike for work (and she was a raft guide in the rainy season) was extra special- to her.

We were to spend our first night on the island of Dong Daeng. It would be the nicest resort we stayed in; it was owned by a Frenchman, and situated on sandy beaches. We took the first of many ferries we would take during our journey to get to the island.






That evening we went for a sunset bikeride around the island. Upon leaving the fancy resort grounds, I felt guilty when I saw the living conditions of the Lao people on the island. Our resort boasted that all 50 of its employees were locals, and our trip boasted "responsible travel." Tourism was the number one money-generator for the country, and was on the rise. Even with all these rationalizations, it was hard for me to negotiate my feelings towards the discrepency in quality of living between the tourists and the locals. When we left, I was secretly glad to have the nicest accomodation of the trip behind us.




The next day we started with a ferry ride to the other side of the river, where we biked to Wat Phu, a Khmer (the predominant ethnic group in Cambodia) Hindu temple complex dating back to the 5th century. The Khmer religion blends elements of Theravada Buddhism, Hinduism, animism and ancestor-spirit worship. The predominant religion in Laos is Theravada Buddhism which, along with the common Animism practiced among the mountain tribes, coexists peacefully with spirit worship. Theravada Buddhism is the oldest branch of Buddhism and began in India.





The most wonderfully fragrant flowering tree, the national tree of Laos, Plumier, framed steep, crooked stairs leading up to a small Buddhist temple. Randy and I went inside to pay our respects, and came across a fortune-telling table. A jar held wooden sticks with numbers on them, and the number you pulled corresponded with a written fortune for the following year. Randy and I both pulled #10, and our tourguide translated that our new year would be filled with good fortune and good health because we had the equivalent of Buddhist "angels" looking over us. We both bounced down the stairs, intoxicated with the smell of Plumiers and our good fortunes.





Off on another precariously pieced together "ferry"!




That afternoon, we biked to Laos' Stonehenge, Phu Asa, a mysterious site of stone towers - time periods are questionable, but it is thought that they marked the boundary of a temple.


We crossed the Mekong AGAIN to stay on one of the biggest islands in the river, Don Khone. We ate and slept in a beautiful French colonialist-style hotel, but unfortunately, after a day of biking in the hot sun, after a warm meal, we all would crash, only to wake up early, eat breakfast, pack up, and get on the bike again! We didn't see too much of any of our hotels.

Christmas in Thailand

For my Christmas holiday, I met my friend Randy (I know her from Montana, but she is currently of Bellingham, WA) for two weeks in southeast Asia: one week on our own in the northeast province of Thailand where few tourists go (Isan Province), and one week on a biketrip through southern Laos with an organized tourgroup, Spiceroads. Randy and I flew into Ubon Ratchathani, a small city of 115,000 people, and spent a day acclimating to the heat (in the 90s Fahrenheit), the food (picked up a stomach bug that stayed with me for a good 7 days until I randomly found a Chinese herbalist), and the kind people (who didn't speak a lick of English but were game for our charades and countless questions, responding with big smiles of white teeth). From there, we hired a driver to take us to Khong Jiam, a small town on the confluence of the Moon River (which ran through Ubon Ratchathani) and the MeKong River, the river which borders Laos and which we would ride alongside on our biking trip the following week. We stayed in a bungalow which was recommended to us (charaded, I should say) by our "consierge" in Ubon. We ended up staying here three nights due to our inability to find accomodation in the local National Park as well as our fondness for the woman we came to call our Thai grandmother. Her garden was complete with orchids, and every morning as we were waking up in bed, we could hear the "clink clink" of her setting our tea and biscuits out on the porch. Khong Jiam is an off-the-beaten-track town in between two national parks, our attraction to the town. The town itself had a boardwalk with floating restaurants, and we enjoyed walking around and eating there in the evenings. Along the boardwalk are some antiquated exercise machines, which Randy and I jokingly played around on one day. But later that evening, in our walk to find dinner, we came across the coolest scene: An outdoor aerobics class, with Western workout music blaring along the banks of the MeKong, and all the exercise equipment in full use! One Thai woman encouraged Randy and I to join the class - so we did - a good workout in anticipation of our biking excursion.

This is the dinky Customs building. This is Randy afraid of being locked up in a Thai prison. We didn't even look at the other side of the river, for her fear was so strong we didn't want to give them any reason to be suspicious of us. One lesson I learned while in Thailand was that you should follow the suggestions of the local people, and not stubbornly realize your own vision. For instance, we wanted to travel north to Pha Taem National Park, and I got it into my head that I wanted to do so by boat even though all the locals we "talked" to (charades) recommended (charades) we rent a motorbike. We found a man at the river who was, although hesitant, willing to bring us the 1 1/2-hour boatride upriver to the park, and we set off on our mini-journey, backpacks in boat. It was a beautiful journey, so in that sense, it was worth it. However, when he pulled up to a somewhat steep bank with no visitor centers or roads in site, and pointed at the forest to say, "Pha Taem," Randy and I were a little hesitant to jump out of the boat. So he guided us straight up a hillside (maybe to avoid visitor entrance fees, we joked) to a path where visitors were viewing ancient pictographs, and dripping with sweat and a smile, pointed us towards the visitor's center. When we arrived at the visitor's center, the park ranger seemed more concerned with plucking his gray hairs with a tweezer than helping us find accomodation, because we quickly learned that all the bungalows were closed despite the fact that this was supposed to be the park's high tourist season. So we ended up hitchhiking back to town, where we sheepishly showed up at Grandma's again, asking for a room for two nights and a motorbike for the next day. This is us hitchhiking back to Khong Jiam. This is the countryside we hiked through to get from the river to the park. This is the mushroom rocks of Pha Taem - formed by erosion- the one thing we got to see in the park that day. This is out motorbike. This is Randy on the motorbike smiling at the end of a successful day's ride. However, we were more in the "white knuckle" condition earlier in the day as we tried to teach ourselves how to ride the bike, neither of us having driven one before, checking our pride at the door as Thai people came out to watch us wobble around the parking lot. But we eventually figured it out, and took off at a wopping 40km/h down the highway, vehicles wizzing past us, to Pha Taem National park. Once in the park again, we visited this beautiful waterfall: The sticks: It is Thai tradition to support a precariously balanced rock with sticks, with the idea that if every person who walks by adds one stick, everyone can stop it from falling. The sticks become the backbone of the rock. We also visited this "Dr. Seussical" field of carnivorous flowers: Finally, we ended our motorbikilicious day with a visit to prehistoric cliff paintings - the oldest in Thailand - over 3000 years old: Pa Cha Na Dai cliff is where you can see Thailand's first sunrise. We watched our Christmas Day sunset here: The sun setting on our ride home: The next day, we hired a driver to take us the 1 1/2 back to Ubon Ratchathani, where we had half a day to walk along the boardwalk of the Moon River, visit a temple, and enjoy the hustle-and-bustle of a small city before meeting up with the tourgroup the following morning to head into rural Laos. The was part one of our holiday - two very distinct types of vacationing - the Thai holiday involved the process: accidentally stumbling our way through experiences, not getting to do or see "tons," but enjoying the process and the smiles we met along the way. Enjoying that we were figuring it out ourselves. Part two, the bike trip in Laos - having been thoroughly organized for us - involved us getting to see and do loads, including staying in some amazing places. What we did in 7 days in Laos, it would have taken Randy and I 3 months to figure out and do. Both very different types of holidays, each with their own perks. Stay tunes for part two: Laos.