I was lucky enough to visit an Akha village named Pongkok that’s 7 km down muddy, muddy rural roads weaving through rice patties and rubber tree plantations. I found out that I was about 20 years too late for the Golden Triangle of SE Asia. Instead of growing poppies for opium, farmers have been encouraged/forced to grow rubber trees instead. I’m sure somewhere there are huge plantations of poppies still going strong. I was happy and relieved to see that the culture hasn’t changed along with their crops. I arrived to Pongkok after slogging through mud for two hours, mud on my shoes, mud on my pants, mud on my back after my feet skated out from under me in a particularly slippery section.
Stilted, wooden homes. Doors open… or no doors in some cases. It was the most surreal experience. There I was, way way way outside my comfort zone. I was two hours from my backpack and home base of Muang Sing where no one speaks English. I’m not a betting man but if I was I wouldn’t put my money on there being a village translator. My best bet was some drugged out hippy of old got stuck in a smokey, numb haze and never left. Nope.
I felt like I was in a western film. Me, the outlaw, had just arrived to town and everyone just stared in silence, wondering if there was going to be a shootout with the sheriff. The night before my Mom asked if there were any cannibals in Laos. I reassured her there weren’t any like there were in Indonesia (something I casually didn’t mention to her at the time). I kind of regretted not double checking that fact.
Then up ahead some young men were all working on cutting up some kind of body. I’ll admit, there was that half a second where my imagination got the best of me before ridiculously unlikely that would be. So, it turned out to be a pig. It can be awkward walking up to people who live so remotely that they barely just got limited electricity for a couple hours in the evenings. It’s so easy though. All you have to do is smile. English might be the official international language but grinning like an idiot is the world’s unofficial one.
I stared into a crowd of warm smiles, some toothy, some not so toothy. I automatically felt at home. So I just went for it. Held up my camera with raised eyebrows to see if I could hang in the back and snap some photos and watch. They loved it. But being in the back wasn’t on the table. They insisted that I got super close and get photos as they took turns getting carnal with the pig.
Oh ya, I forgot to mention, it was the Akha New Years in a couple days so they were having their town’s celebration early before all the villages congregated in theirs’ for the party. The pig was for the feast they were preparing that night. Their party was already starting.
“Lao lao!” I look up and all these guys were up on a rooftop raising glasses in the air. Before I know it I’m drunk. I’m pretty good at throwing them back but my glass was never empty. Getting lots of attention meant my glass also got lots of attention and they all wanted to cheers me individually.
Sidenote… they do this weird thing that after you clink your glass with someone you have to stare them in the eyes while you drink. It was slightly creepy. And the drunker they got the less of their eyes I could see so it kind of looked like they were glaring at me or like they knew they had just poisoned my glass and wanted to watch me drink to my death. I let that thought pass.
These guys were awesome. Not a lick of english and I speak maybe a dozen words in Lao when I’m sober. I learned many, many words in Lao while I was up there… which I would remember for about 10 seconds and then I’d learn a new one. It was a lot of fun but it was like language etch a sketch on my brain. Didn’t matter. I learned it quick in Indonesia. You don’t need to break through the language barrier to have fun with people.
There is one decision of that day I would change if I could though. I didn’t stay for the feast. I was invited but walking 7 k’s down a dark muddy road with wild dogs lurking everywhere didn’t seem that awesome at the time. I should have stayed. But in the end there is not a thing I can complain about with my experience. It’s got to be one of the coolest things I’ve experienced in my short 27 years. It’s hard to explain but those are the things that reignite that travel fire. The Akha celebration was very cool too, I’m not going to go into it too much. There were speeches and dancing and traditional music and it was amazing as well but my intimate afternoon with just Pongkok was definitely the highlight. If anyone is following me on Instagram you can get a better idea with some photos I posted.
On from Muang Sing I had a four days in the party capital of Vang Viene. They are slightly fuzzy looking back on it. I blame the special shakes that are sold everywhere. They have these cafes on every street that sell fruit shakes that tend to make people lie around all day on floor cushions while they play “Friends” reruns all day, every day. Don’t ask me why but “Friends is having a huge comeback in Vang Viene.
Then on down to an area called the 4,000 Islands. The Mekong river widens at the very southern tip of Laos and it’s dotted with islands, most tiny but some a few kilometers around. I went to Don Dhet where I chilled out in a hammock. It was really nice. I had a simple bungalow right on the river bank with surprisingly good wifi, which was super convenient.
I’ve really enjoyed SE Asia for what it has to offer but the tourism bullshit can get on my nerves at times. I enjoy going to wats and seeing waterfalls and visiting coffee plantations but there is this undertone that I haven’t been able to shake. I came here with what I would call a somewhat naive idea of what the area was going to be like. Most people are coming to the area from the western world with a limited number of days and want to pack as many attractions into their vacation that they can. I don’t blame them. I would do the same. But with choosing to spend a considerable amount of time wandering around, looking to dig a little deeper into the culture, I’m not as interested in seeing every major attraction each area has to offer. I don’t want to come off as arrogant or something and I hope I don’t but often times I don’t relate with the quick and dirty tourists. The people I tend to connect with the most are the people with a slower approach to travel and of course the locals, when possible language-wise.
I’ve decided to mix up my travel plans a little. I bought a plane ticket to Nepal for the beginning of March. I know the tourism industry is alive and kicking there too but throwing down some big bucks to see some even bigger mountains seems a much better buy than another damn waterfall or temple. Plus one of my bucket list items for my trip was to get involved and give back with some volunteer work. For those that are reading this and don’t know or maybe don’t remember, that country got turned upside down last spring with back to back 7.8 and 7.4 earthquakes. Kathmandu is a mess. Schools are demolished. Wiki just told me that it caused 5 billion dollars in damage, which is 25% of the nation’s GDP.
So, I’m hoping that I can get my hands dirty and do whatever I can to help. I’m giving myself a month to volunteer and then afterwards a month for trekking. I’m kind of throwing myself into this blind so I hope I’m not being naïve now but it feels like the right move. I’m knowingly passing on some countries in this area that I know I would love but this is an instinctive decision. I’ve learned to really trust my instincts and this one definitely feels right.
Getting back to that good wifi in Don Dhet, I used my few days lounging to coordinate a climate change. Luckily I have a friend that’s better than I deserve to crawl up into my parents attic back in Boise to retrieve my gear list for high elevation. Not a small task considering everything that I still own back in the States in smashed into boxes in a dark, claustrophobic attic in the middle of winter.
For now I’m back in the heat. Back in Thailand. My visa ran out in Laos so I was forced to vacate. I’m sitting on a third story terrace in Ubon Ratchathani writing this. I’ve got a nice view of the Moon River, a local morning market across the street where I try new food everyday and a hostel host that has adopted me as her traveling son. I’ve lost track of time. Can’t remember when I got here but it’s been over a week. I’m doing what I like doing best. I’m slowly digging into the local scene. Ubon is for the most part off the maps for what’s referred to as the Banana Pancake Trail. Other than my Finnish neighbor with an absurdly thick accent I’m the only white person that I see most days. That means the tourism attitude really hasn’t hit the area either. People are curious again like on Java. Not that I’m a person that has ever really enjoyed being the center of attention but the interaction has changed. I think the people appreciate me exploring their city, which is a major Buddhist hub of Thailand.
I got the chance to visit Wat Pa Nana Chat where I prepared food, prayed and ate breakfast with the monks. It’s a forest monastery near the city and every morning the monks come to town around 5 am to collect Alms, or donations from the people here. I think I’ve talked about it before but the huge buffet of food that I helped prepare that day was all donated by Ubon residents. I’m not interested in becoming Buddhist but the religion is beautiful and I’m grateful to get such a close look at what the monks lives are like. It’s basically two words: prayer and meditation. Simple but complex. I think I would go insane if I tried to sit with them for more than a week. I got lots of respect for these guys.
I plan on staying here for another week or so before making my way west to Bangkok to fly to Kathmandu on March 4th. I’ve got some friends to reunite with and I think I’m going to spend a few days at a different monastery that is more educational based for curious westerners looking into meditation and/or Buddhism. The longer I stay in one place the easier it is to live off of 20 bucks each day. I’ve actually limited myself to $15 to pay for my plane ticket.
I spend my days taking care of loose ends for visas and other travel things, working on some self improvement and hanging out with my roommate, Masashi. He’s a 70 year old widower from Japan that got a second chance on life after a massive heart attack and wants to see what the world is all about. He’s definitely one of the most inspiring people I’ve met on my trail thus far. He’s got this Zen Buddhist curiosity about everything. Before his heart attack he told me that he was angry, impatient and frustrated easily but once he almost lost his life he consciously changed his attitude. Now he’s calm, quiet, curious and, without a better word for it, adorable. If I needed any help or wisdom for a lonely Valentines day all I had to do was consider this guy. His outlook on the life that he has left is beautiful.
So that’s it guys. I skipped a bunch but the things that make the biggest impression on me are worth sharing online. The rest is good beer drinking material when I come back. Not sure who is reading this anymore but if it’s just you, Mom, Dad and Erik… I’ll buy the beer and share it anyway :)
And as far as pictures go, I’ve taken a bunch. Some of the better ones I take the time to throw up on Instagram but as far as keeping my face out of a screen, photo editing can wait until I come back.
Much love from SE Asia.
