Moving from Thailand to Laos through the Chiang Khong felt as if we didn’t just cross a border but flew into a different world. Gone were the tourist crowds. Gone were the fancy hotels. Thai linear cities with concrete houses were suddenly replaces by settlements with bamboo bungalows, dirt courtyards with small burning fires in front and people crouching around them in little groups. As it got dark it became apparent that electricity was a luxury not all can afford. The sky though was deep and the stars were fabulous. Even in the dark of the night we could tell that the mountainous landscape felt different than in Thailand. Clear-cut hills could be spotted here and there by their lighter shade of black.
We headed North towards Luang NamTha Province in search of ethnic cultural villages that were on top of Boryan’s must see list. Akha, Tai Lue, Tai Neue and Lolo tribes call these mountains home. The area was very rural and looked like people haven’t seen much foreigners since the opium boom started declining 10 years ago. We were being stared at everywhere we went. Kids crowded around us and adults stopped whatever they are doing, smiled and greeted us with ‘Sa Bai dii’. For the first time on our trip we were getting special attention like this group of Akha children who didn’t leave our side for 2 km giggling and stealing curious glances.
Northern Laos felt like a walk back in time. In the market one could see all the symbols of modern civilization – Coca Cola and Pepsi products, Lay’s chips and Oreo cookies right next to grilled chicken legs, porcupines and squirrels for sale and alive frogs strung on a string. This part of the country is not suitable for the faint of heart as its reality can an easily upset one’s western sensibilities and cultured stomachs. To explore Laos with pleasure one has to accept that everything is normal and not flinch at the sight of a boy pooping on the sidewalk or the uncomfortable sensation of being squished in a overloaded van that is about to break up any moment on a treacherous road ridden with road holes.
On our first days in Laos we were in a daze from the sudden change of scenery thus snapping left and right not caring if it is fine to take photos of the nice folks in their homes. Looking back I am appalled that we blatantly pointed our camera at them. How would we feel if some strange people come over to our neck of the woods and started taking photos of our family performing our daily rituals. Offensive, right? Thankfully we soon realized we needed to ask for permission and every time we asked we were denied.
The burning of the sugarcane fields reminded me of field burning in Bulgaria.
Trucks loaded to the brim with sugarcane bound for China, just minutes away from Muang Sing (this is a two way road!). The influential neighbor’s presence was very palpable in this part of Laos. Seemed like most of the local produce was being shipped straight for the Chinese market.
And this was how the gas stations along the road looked like.
And the Wats with closed doors. They appeared neglected compared to their cousins in Thailand.
We knew that we have to flee to the most rural part of this area as the cities were dusty and stressful for us. We opted out of organized treks and activities. Instead we found a guest house in the middle of nowhere run by a sweet young family and parked ourselves on their sunny porch. All of a sudden we were in heaven. From all the places we have visited so far I think of this one with the most fondness. After the fast pace of Japan and the stimulating outdoor heaven of Thailand Adima Guesthouse felt like a visit with grandma and grandpa at the village. Quickly we transformed into lazy sloths who rolled in the sun and daydreamed. The kids couldn’t believe that our days were designated to ‘chilling’ and visiting the Akha and Yuo villages nearby. I think that during the four days there we finally came to find the travel style that suits us best. Slow, slow, slow.
Around us were fields of sugar cane, banana plantations and endless rows of strange greens grown for the Chinese market. The scenery was beautiful and as rural as it could be.
The people around us were very hardworking. They labored from dusk to dawn in small groups, doing everything by hand. Women carried heavy loads on their back. I couldn’t even lift one! We did not take photos inside the ethnic villages. Leaving the camera behind helped us feel less like intruders. Here is what we observed while strolling leisurely: kids running around as free as birds all day long; women spending the days in spinning yarn and weaving cloth, doing needlework and embroidery. We saw men digging ditches in groups or just hanging out. The feeling of community was present everywhere.
I felt a pang of jealousy at the wild freedom with which the children roamed the open landscape. We were completely taken by their sparkle.
The place was teaming with farm animals, kittens and puppies. It was like a kid’s animal book showing the mommy pig and the baby pig, the mommy chicken and the chicks. Our cat here (we called her Grinder because she could grind almost anything with her teeth) had a baby kitten attached to her. A family of water buffaloes was grazing just in front of our bungalow .
And just like that we are in love with Laos.
