Tuesday, December 30, 2008

The Emerald Buddha of Indo-China!

Do you know this story?

There is a very famous statue of Buddha that has long been a bone of contention in these parts.

It is supposedly carved from a single giant emerald and was initially given to Laos, many centuries ago, as part of the dowry when a Cambodian prince married a Laos princess. A very special wat was even built to house it:

Wat Sisket.

But then, several generations later, Cambodia wanted it returned. Laos wouldn't comply, saying righteously "Sod off, Indian-givers", or words to that effect, so Cambodia invaded.

So, after lots of thundering elephants and major river and mountain-crossing, and the subsequent rampaging death, destruction and razing of cities and wats, Cambodia won and the Emerald Buddha returned to Cambodia ...

... until, again centuries later, Thailand decided it too wanted in on the Emerald Buddha action and so elephants again thundered across mountains and rivers and cities were again razed - in the hideous plague of destruction that gave Cambodia's beautiful city of Angkor Thom the new name of Siem Reap, meaning "Siam destroyed us!" as indeed it did.

So, all over the Indo-China region resentment over the lost Emerald Buddha still seethes and there's a thriving business in making replica 'emerald' statues to remind folks of what was taken from them.

Only no one is really sure of what it looks like, so there are many variations:


Today it resides in Bangkok in its own special wat and I've seen it ... and although you aren't permitted to take photographs of the sacred Buddha statues so I didn't, I have just found someone else who took one:


What the Emerald Buddha
really looks like.

Although in myth it is something great and grand, in truth it isn't emerald at all. It's just greenstone.

Hard to believe in these day of easy air travel, when elephants don't have to thunder anywhere, and anyone can just go visit that special Thai wat to see the statue for oneself, that this myth is still so widely perpetuated. Guess there's something in it for someone someplace. Or maybe all these Indo-China nations really just enjoy resenting each other but, as good Buddhists, feel they need a good Buddhist pretext for doing so.

Lady Buddha of Laos. For Margaret!

Far be it from me to ever "dis" The Goddess, but you really need to see Laos' Goddess of Prosperity. Check her out:

In wood!

In silver!

I find it very hard to take her seriously because she reminds me so much of this:

The cat we call Shino,
after a Japanese girl we once detested:

She's obviously a very ancient Goddess because I kept seeing her in Vientiane antique stores:

An old one!

An even older one!
Gosh, this is such a bad photo.
Sorry about that.

She's also very current because I kept seeing modern copies of her:

Kiddy Form.

Hindi Movie-Star Form.

And truly, truly the worst one I EVER saw:

Gigglingly Stupid Form.

I'm guessing, Margaret, that you won't be asking me to buy you one of these to add to your Goddess collection?

Old Colonial Houses of Vientiane, Laos.

Here's a small sample of the crumbling French mansions in Vientiane ...


... and a couple of photos of the ones that have been restored ...





... and one for Richard of a house being restored so he can check out the scaffolding ...



... and one that never needed restoring:

The President's Palace.

Libraries of Laos. For Bernadette!

Bernadette, knowing how you librarian-types take an enormous interest in how other countries "do libraries" I thought you'd love to see these.

This is the National Library of Laos in Vientiane:

If you ask very nicely,
they'll let you see The Book!

But that's true luxury when you compare it with the Provincial Libraries. Here's a photo of one of them, although I've forgotten which province this is in:

Tong's photo of the only library
in his home province.

And this is Tong:
Tong with a photo of his abbot.

Tong is currently displaying his photographs at Vat Khili in Luang Prabang, hoping to raise US$50.00 in order to do a six-months intensive language school in Vientiane. Although he already speaks both French and English, which he learned from books and tapes he found at "@your library", he now wants to learn speak them "properly".

Tong also learned to take photos at "@your library" and since I'll be talking about that organisation in a later blog, I won't mention it here.

But, in the meantime, if you're interested in helping Tong, drop by Vat Khili - just ask the tuktuk driver to take you there - and go into the small house next to the road where the photos are displayed. Also ask if Tong is around so you can chat with him yourself.

Alternatively, you could write to him. I'm sure your letter will eventually find him.

A Fairytale for Children

A SHORT FAIRYTALE FOR CHILDREN

Once upon a time, boys and girls, in a far away land called something not unlike Salo, there was a corrupt and venal regime, full of men who were not exactly evil or tyrants only self-interested and luxury-loving and didn't give a toss for the people.

In this land, everyone who wasn't in the regime was very poor and there was no education system or health system or anything really by way of infrastructure, and they were known as one of the poorest countries in the world.

Other countries and people from other lands felt sorry for them and often sent money to help, only the Luxury-Lovers in charge wouldn't give any to the people. They said that only they were allowed to handle International Donations and so took everything sent by other nations and emptied charities' bank accounts of money given by individuals and promised that they would allocate the money themselves. Which indeed they did. Allocated all the way into Swiss bank accounts.

However, there were many good and brave people from this land who worked hard to help their people. And there are others who came to this land, initially to set up businesses to make money for themselves, but the plight of the people got too much for them and so they started to do good works to help alleviate the suffering they saw all around them.

In the beginning, not realising the reality of the situation, these good people from other lands set up websites to ask for help, only that drew attention from the Luxury-Lovers and things got a bit fraught. And the money sent from outside always got taken too. So now they "keep a low profile", although they do retain "rudimentary websites" that don't say much at all about what is happening.

And so, since we don't live in the Land of Salo and therefore have no reason to fear the Luxury Lovers, why don't we all find out more about these places and people who are trying to do something to help ...

... so they all live happily ever after!

Now, boys and girls, wasn't that a lovely little story!

Home and Hosed

We're back in Hong Kong after a truly lovely holiday, although I'd be happy if I never return to Vientiane again. Sure, it's kinda a nice-looking town with lots of wonderful old crumbling colonial French mansions - photos of which I will be posting up here - but I don't find that enough incentive to return EVER.

Although, I must tell you, I got the most enormous buzz from seeing this:

Gosh, forgotten the name
of this stupa already!


I remember seeing images of it twice previously in my life when I was very young; one was on a travel poster - Air India? - advertising The Far East and the other time was in "Children's Own Colour Annual" in a story on Far Away Places. And here it was! Right there in front of me! How cool is that!

Now let's get serious for a moment: In addition to posting photographs in the next few days, there will be stories I'll be telling you and things I'll be showing you and a plea or two I'll be making of you, so I feel I need to tell you something upfront that should be taken into account, only I don't want to post it with the stories themselves ... because I don't want to get anyone into trouble. I'm not sure how to go about saying any of this, so let me post another blog just tell you a little story - fiction, kila ga? - and let you be all nudge-nudge-wink-wink and "word to the wise" about it.

Monday, December 22, 2008

Luang Prabang, Laos!

Updating daily, below:

DAY ONE

Luang Prabang is so exactly like Nadi, the Mekong is so exactly like Sigatoka River, the trees and general vegetation is all so exactly like Western Viti Levu, the red dust and green mould covering everything is so like Tavua, all you'd have to do is stick conical bamboo hats on random heads, head-and-eyebrow-shave and saffron-robe-drape a couple of hundred young boys, throw around several colourful tuktuks and, voila!, you can save your money by staying in Fiji and just pretending you're in Laos.

Can't wait to download my photos so you can see this for yourself.

And the mood of this town? You know how I said Vientiane's day never really got started ... and then they all went to bed? Well, Luang Prabang is Vientiane on valium. It hardly moves at all, but it's got such pretty little cafes all along the banks of the Mekong that's understandable.

Our hotel/guesthouse here is lovely. After the last place, just having stuff that works and no ghost would have been enough, but here, Bai, the owner, is "into decorating" and the place really is a triumph. Keith did well considering this is The Last Room in Luang Prabang! Honestly, there was no other place available. Remember how I was panicking yesterday when I realised I couldn't get a room here? And Keith charged in at the last minute and sorted it all out. My hero!!!

News? Not really anything. There was a bit of a hassle this morning because there are two hotels with the same name and I was taken to the wrong one, but even "hasslier" was when the airport taxi-mini-van just stopped in the middle of nowhere and the driver went off, leaving me sitting there for about ten minutes. Mind you, it was just outside a very nice Massage Parlour so I thought that if he didn't come back I'd just go in and have a massage. Seems he went off to ask locals for the address and wanted to save on petrol.

Oh, and here's news: there was an explosion on the plane this morning. Nothing too dramatic, but it's exactly what you don't want to happen when you're in a plane. It came from the direction of the ceiling and no one could figure out if it was something within the electrical system or something had exploded inside someone's luggage. We landed safely so I guess it was the latter!

And even bigger news! Luang Prabang has a provincial speciality of dried seaweed in sesame seed served with a trickle of olive oil that is just so, so, so, so yummy! Only just had my second plate and already I'm thinking of my next one!

That's all for now but do keep dropping by for updates. I've found a sweet little cybercafe on LP's main street, so plan to give you the latest most days.

DAY TWO

Fell asleep at the massage place. No idea if I actually got a foot massage or not because she'd only just started to wash my feet and suddenly it's an hour later. She gave me a free ten minute head and shoulders massage after she woke me up so maybe she was feeling guilty because she'd just raced off to play cards the whole time.

Personally, I'm blaming the monks. LBJ Hotel is stuck between Wat Xieng Thong and Wat Khili - literally - one at the back and the other diagonally across the road - and they both start beating their drums at dawn. At first it was so very sweet and nostalgic - remember how dad's hospital used to play the lali at 6 am? - but then it got a tad annoying. Wonder if dad's patients felt the same way about their wake-up call!

Luang Prabang is really quite lovely. It's sooo Fiji I feel very disloyal for loving this place so much. Or maybe that's why I love it so much.

You know, I think Nadi and LP should become sister-towns and have lots of cross-cultural exchanges because they already have so much in common if they just started to also do the stuff the other place does, both would be heaven on earth. Like, LP has very little music. One of the things I adore about Fiji is the fact that just about everyone has a guitar and a fabulous singing voice so can - and do - make music all day long. That doesn't happen here. As far as I can hear, there's no music apart from a couple of Hindi radio stations. But, on the other hand, I just love the little cafes LP has on the embankments along the Khan and Mekong Rivers. Nadi River, which now seems under-utilised as a resource, absolutely should start doing that as well.

Oh, oh, oh, and the Night Markets here! The stuff they have! Molly, would you KILL for one of the Hmong quilts! They do this cut-out thing atop white linen and it's just gorgeous. US$20.00 for a queensize one. Get back to me soon if you want me to get you one ... and if you don't get your own because you think you can steal mine, think again! Not happening! And there's this Hmong embroidered quilt that is only US$60.00 that Rayna would love. And, Margaret, they have gollywogs! How exciting is that! They're only asking US$5.00 for them, so I guess I'll indulge you and buy you one for your collection! A Hmong golliwog? How'd that go as a collectible? Also, the silk table-runners are only US$7.00 and I think I'll get a range of them for those poor souls who I didn't send presents to this year.

Poor Keith! The very minute he arrives tonight, I'll be dragging him down to the markets and, believe me, he'll be going through his US$s very, very, very fast. The stuff! MMMMmmmmm! The only reason I didn't buy heaps and heaps is I wanted to wait for Keith to do it for me!

Mmmm, poor Keith! I'm not very nice to him, am I!

What else is good? Oh, there's this fruit smoothie/lassi-type drink they make here that is just fabulous. They even let you pick out the fruit you want and cut it up right in front of you, just like in a Chinese seafood restaurant, only nothing gets to die!

What else? Laotian silks aren't bad. They're hand-loomed, and they've stolen lots of Jim Thompson's colour ideas so they're kinda lovely, although they're not so carefully done or finished as ones in Thailand - although there's a girl called Carol Cassidy in Vientiane who's "doing a Jim-Thompson" so I guess the quality will start to rise here soon as well.

But do you remember those silks in Cambodia? Gosh, they were sublime. All these women in rags walking the streets trying to sell their latest creations and they'd be asking only US$7.00 for a queen-sized quilt and the workmanship would always be just perfection; made with so much care, pride and attention-to-detail. Broke my heart! Several times, I'd look over a piece and the Khmer lady would be saying "Seven dollar!" and I'd go "I'll give you twenty!" and Keith would get cross and say "You really don't understand bargaining, do you!" and I'd reply "But I do understand my conscience and I want to pay twenty!" Well, in Vientiane you could buy pieces identical to my Cambodian pieces for US$1,700.00 and up and I feel most clever I got in early.

Do you know, I've been using my Cambodian silk throws every day for the last five years and they still look as wonderful as the day I got them. Love 'em!

It's hard to tell you any real stuff without my photos so I'll sign off now. But will be back tomorrow for another update so do drop by!

DAY THREE

Just run away from Keith. Decided he's unbearable! It is astonishing to me that I've spent the past eight days exploring and not got the slightest bit sunburned and a single day with him and I'm red raw AND I've got blisters all over my feet! It's because I'm sane, that's why, and when he said to me ten minutes ago "Why don't we climb Mt Fusi to watch the sunset?" I decide that he's barking mad and ran away.

See, just like everyone sane in the tropics I don't go out in the midday sun. I explore early morning and late afternoon, and from 11 to 2 I go off and have a massage for two hours, lunch for one, and then find a nice Internet cafe and update. That's what sane people do! So, round 11 today, I say to Keith "Let's go get a massage?", he says "We'll only get one at The Red Cross headquarters because they use the money from massages to support the work they do in the mountains of Laos!" OK, yeah!, I support that, so I stupidly agree ... only he has no idea where the Red Cross headquarters are and so we spend the next two hours hunting around Ban Ahem looking for the place! And when we finally find it, and I'm burnt lobster-red with feet covered in blisters, he decides he doesn't want a massage afterall, and sighs alot because I insist on having one. And then, when we come out he makes that ridiculously stupid suggestion about Mt Fusi!

And it was so nice last night when he finally arrived (saying "I can't get over this place. It's like Nadi has moved to the Sigatoka Valley!") (see, told you!) and I took him down to one of the Mekong Riverside cafes and introduced him to the wonderful food and he liked it so much he's now decided to do a day-long Laos cooking course at one of the local schools and wants me to come too ... as if that would ever happen ... so, blah blah blah!, he's all "Why don't you do a weaving course instead so you can make your own rugs!"

Anyway, tedious story so I'll skip it and wind this up by saying ... Keith, my love, I don't do mountains! I don't do cooking schools! I don't do weaving workshops! I don't walk in the sun! And I don't get up at six in the morning no matter how many drums those monks bang!

Hard to believe we've been married for nearly 30 years and he hasn't yet realised this about me!

No, to be fair, I think the problem is that he's just started his holiday and is all revved up to do stuff, but I've been doing stuff for a week now and I've got not a smidgen of energy left and just want to do absolutely nothing for a couple of days.

Oh, except for going to the Buddha Caves! Over two thousand Buddhas carved into the limestone inside two caves, and it's a couple of hours down the Mekong so you take a boat there and that sounds like something I'm more than willing to do ... provided I don't have to ride an elephant.

As you see, I'm not a very happy camper at the moment, so won't write anymore. Will update tomorrow around noon ... even if it means I have to run away from Keith again!


DAY FOUR

Forgave Keith eventually and had a fabulous dinner at Tum Tum Cheng Restaurant. They're one of the places promoting Laos cooking, which is totally totally amazingly wonderful and it's hard to believe anyone needs to be promoting it to tourists. One meal and Keith's signed up for a day-long cooking course at a local school; that's how enamoured he instantly became of it.

I tell you, Fair Trade needs to do a round-up around Luang Prabang backstreets. Truly, so much food here is export-worthy. Like, the woman who runs the tiny dirt-floor cafe across from our hotel makes the most amazing mandarin marmalade and a pineapple paste that is to-die-for, among other totally sublime fruit preserves etc, etc, etc. I told Bai "She needs to market it seriously! There's a fortune to be made in her recipes." and he says "I tell her all the time but she is not interested. She says "I make enough money to be happy. I don't want more." I think that's the trouble; no one is really interested in taking what they do abroad, although Ruth says there is a Laos Restaurant in Box Hill in Melbourne in Australia that her family eats at all the time.

And speaking of Ruth, she's the friend of our friend Aussie Christine from Hong Kong, and we looked Ruth up on her say-so. So glad we did. Gorgeous lady! She's involved in the orphanage here, trying to raise funds etc. for the kids. She's Australian but her family has a long-time Laos connection. In fact, her Uncle was the Australian Ambassador here for decades, including during the Patharn Revolution during the 1970s. In fact, she was telling us about her Uncle during that time and there is SUCH a gorgeous film in it, I would love to write it up as a script. Just the gentle heroism of the old man. Refused to shut down the Embassy after everyone else had run away. And the amazing stuff he did saving people! I think the Australian Film Commission should immediately take an interest because it's a HUGE story that, I think, should be added to the collection of Aussie Heroic Sagas!

In fact it's been an interesting day all round, and we met so many interesting people - mainly ex-pat women - doing heroic and needful things; stepping up to the plate, as it were. Like, this morning we met Debra who owns JoMa Cafe and, in addition to working all day, she runs a child-care facility, free, out of her home for the kids at risk because both parents work 17 hour days. She said she saw so many hungry toddlers around the streets she couldn't NOT get involved. Some, say, have ... no, no, this is too important for in here so I'll do a blog on the subject later after I have photos to do it all justice.

I will also do a story, I think, on Ruth's orphanage, but it will have to wait until I know more and have more time. I volunteered a day's teaching there on the day Keith does the cooking school but they say that they don't have the facilities to check anyone's credentials and so, because of the pedophile problem they refuse everyone. However, they say they would like me to do a story ... so I'll definitely be doing that so watch this space.

Oooh, one of the Pushy-Involved-Ex-Pat-Ladies has organised local women who live around the LP primary schools to race out and photograph the faces of any men who linger too long around the schools and who take photos of too many kids and then she collects them and sends them to the Laos Vice Police AND Interpol. AND she says that the word has got out among pedophile circles that Luang Prabang is not safe and very few come here anymore! Yo, You Go Girl!!!

Keith is pressuring me to leave now. He wants to try Tamarind Restaurant round that corner; another place that promotes Laos Cooking!

DAY FIVE

If Ernest Hemingway and David Suzuki had a fight, who'd you reckon would win? Keith says Ernest because he's big, mean and has a brutal streak while David doesn't. Me? I think David Suzuki would win because Ernest Hemingway is dead.

You may be wondering what this has to do with anything, but if you were here too you'd understand. Honestly, the tourists! It's like a Convention of Ernest Hemingway lookalikes coming abut a Collection of David Suzuki lookalikes! Two rival armies! And when you have an army you just want to do something with them ... which, I've just realised, probably explains the Bush administration.

Anyway, we've been in stitches these last two days making silly jokes about the two groups ... and now Keith, a charter member of Team Hemingway, is saying "I can't bear it. I have to shave."

It's odd we didn't notice it until the day before yesterday; when I decided to forgive Keith I went hunting for him and asked around various places if a tall, large, bearded guy had come in, but whoever'd reply with a variation of "That description doesn't mean anything!" and waft a hand towards the passing crowd, and lo and behold, EVERYONE who wasn't little, Japanese and with a great camera, matched that description ...

... oh, except for the guy who looks like Robert Plant who we reckon IS Robert Plant. He's doing that "hiding in plain view" thing, but the few times I've tried to take a photo with him in it, he carefully shields his face. When I finally download the photos, I'll show you one and let you decide if that's Robert Plant's hand! I keep daring Keith to go up to him and say "When is Led Zeppelin getting back together?" because I think that would be the question which would annoy him the most - unless it's "When are The Who getting back together!" - but Keith refuses to be that tacky!

We really haven't done very much today. Thankfully, Keith didn't sleep well last night so is being a right slacko today. And most agreeable it is too. We did mean to drop by to sign up with the "Stay Another Day"network (the volunteer organisations here you can donate your skills to for a day or two) but never got around to it. We did arrive at one of the volunteer places - a bookshop/cafe/free-reading-room, called L'Estrange, run by a woman who looks more like my mum than anyone has a right to - and while walking to the desk to register spotted books we'd always wanted to read, so grabbed them and sunk onto the sofas, and, drinking chai lattes and reading, before we knew it the day was over. Exactly what the doctor ordered.

Throw in a massage and that's the entire day in a nutshell. We kinda feel guilty about it so are going with Noh to the Buddha Caves tomorrow and Keith's off now to sign up for the Cooking School and then we are going back down to the Mekong for a meal in one of those terrific little cafes.

Oh, the reason he didn't get much sleep? Not the monks fault this time. Firstly, there's this sweet little German girl in the hotel next door who walks around naked and the local likely-lads have noticed and so were drinking rice-whiskey outside our window half the night, yahooing and carousing. Bloody Germans, huh! And the very moment when a Laos Likely-Lads finally shut up, the Singaporeans started up. Yup, the trio in the room next door started rollicking good sex that lasted for hours ... and then came the spankings! Only two spankings, so which one isn't getting one! No, won't think about it. It really is kinda creepy.

Tamarind Restaurant last night was lovely. They have little servings of lots of different dishes so you get to try heaps of Lao stuff without really committing to anything. Must tell you, we discovered the smoky-eggplant dish and that's totally mmmmm too! Just love this food! I'm so glad Keith will know all this stuff.

By the way, am volunteering my services as an editor/proofreader to Stay Another Day organisation "Big Brother Mouse" while Keith is doing what Keith does best!

Keith is now back. Must go. Guess we may have more foods we TOTALLY MUST discover!

DAY SIX.

Sick. Like, really, really sick. Think it's malarial. Ague, chills alternating with fever, stiff neck, lungs feel like they're filled with ice-water, throw up if I move fast, fall over all the time - but not the dengue fall-over which is caused by your legs constantly giving way under you - this is lose-balance-fall-over which probably means an inner-ear problem.

What do you think, Gerald?

Must be from My Big Night With The Mosquitoes! in Vientiane.

What is is with me and mosquito-borne illnesses?: really severe dengue back in 1968 and then 9 years of Ross River Virus. But then Keith has had both of those, plus Barma-Forrest AND Q-Fever so he's an even sadder case than I am.

And no wonder I've had no energy for days. Really haven't been well at all, I now realise.

You may be wondering what I'm doing up? No choice. I'm following two really creepy guys. They're across the way now having breakfast and I'll leave when they do. Saw them through the window of my sick-bed photographing the novice monks and I really understood who the local women choose to photograph. There is something substantially different about HOW these guys look at the kids. And then I noticed them notice a very little girl and set off after her so I thought it was too serious not to do something ... so, after hastily dressing in yesterday's clothes, have been trailing them ever since getting stuff on film, planning to give the photographs to the woman who gives them to Interpol.

Power just went out here. Young guy running around madly saying his backup generator only has five minutes power, so I'd better go. I'll go over and have a cuppa close to those creepy fellows and maybe, with luck, I'll end up throwing up all over them.

See you tomorrow.

DAY SEVEN

Feeling much much better. Still have a very stiff neck that won't allow my head to move in either direction and my lungs still feel like they're full of water, but at least this water is warm, and I do hurt all over, but I don't feel even remotely sick and that's all I ask for. My energy levels have even returned so it's all good. Ruth says there is a low grade Dengue-type thing doing the rounds here at the moment and it sounds like that, but I appear over it.

Went to see Mr Sahi, a Native Practioner at the Laos Red Cross (I will be doing a blog on them after I return because it's interesting), and he mixed me up a tisane, moved my chi around a bit and then I went home and slept for 17 hours - and even slept through a three hour bout of Singapore-Spank-and-Squeal that was being spoken about in hushed voices around the streets of Ban Khili this morning and will undoubtedly go down in the annals of local folk legends.

In Luang Prabang, everyone can hear you scream. Our hotel emptied this morning and so did the hotel next to us. Bai was mortified until ... well, until we started to laugh about it and then we couldn't stop.

The Singapore-Sex-Pigs asked us to go to the waterfall with them tomorrow. Not happening. They're a very friendly trio, sure, but it's really difficult to even look at them after ... well, after knowing so much about their most intimate moments! Except you can't call them "moments" when they're at it for hours. And do you know how many Singapore laws they're breaking? So far, we're counting it as six! Although the last crime - doing it with "The Swingles" CD playing - is also against all international laws, the Geneva Convention, and an outrage to all standards of taste and decency.

But here I am talking about tomorrow when I haven't even told you about yesterday or today.

Yesterday, as I said, I was being all creepy and sinister and trying to freak out those two creepy guys, but then I noticed that, for the first time since we arrived, the Royal Palace was open so that's when my ADD kicked in and I went off to do that instead.

The Palace is interesting. Don't have photos because you aren't allowed to take any - you have to surrender your camera before they let you in - but it's a really strange and interesting mix of ordinary and splendid. And, I must tell you because it's so shameful, in among all the gifts from other Nations - all fabulous and luxurious - is the gift from Australia ... and it's a boomarang! Yup, Australia's diplomacy package consists of ... a wooden stick!

What happened to the King and Queen of Laos? Do you know? All I can find out is "they died in a cave" although no one explains what that actually means. It was part of the Pol Pot-esque Revolution they had here back in the 70s, paid for, as we all know, by the Americans who wanted the region destablised as part of their "Asia Package". It all seems so very real now that I've looked into their lives this way. They are two very sweet-faced people so it's all very sad.

And after that I went into Big Brother Mouse and hung around there trying to do my bit. And then went to "@your library" and did the same. These are both "Stay Another Day" places and I do intend to blog about them after I get back and have photos to show you.

Keith was doing the cooking school all day and so I entertained myself until the food was prepared and then presented myself to join them for the spoils and most yummy it all was too.

And today we hired a long boat and went with Noh to Pak Ou - the Buddha Caves - two hours down the Mekong. They were spectacular and something else that's too special not to do an individual blog on once I have photos, so you'll have to wait for it.

Travelling down the Mekong? Just think of endless Fiji. It's Sigatoka River, Sigatoka Valley, for miles and miles and miles.

So that brings you up to date. Tomorrow is our last day and I'm very sad to be going. Keith is already talking about our next visit wherein he's planning to do a woodcarving course. He's also saying he wants to take an elephant trek across the mountains but I keep saying "That's what you have younger brothers for!" ... so how about it, Paul? Are you up for it?

More tomorrow ... which WON'T include Sai Pak Waterfall with The Gang Of Three! Please, please, please, let them be too exhausted to be up for anything tonight!!!

DAY EIGHT

The last day of our stay in Laos. So pleased to have finally visited this country. Although I don't care if I never see Vientiane again, Luang Prabang is lovely and already feels like "our place" and Keith is talking about moving here after he retires - but only for the winter months because apparently it's brutally hot and breezeless in summer ... and spring ... and autumn.

Another very sleepy day although, well, we've just got down from Mt Phousi. I compromised and walked up half way and Keith climbed the rest of it alone. He took photos from there so I can stick them in here and pretend I did it too, so pretend you already know I didn't.

What else happened today? Oh yes, the orphanage.

Note for Michael: Finally got out to the orphanage today. It's a lovely place these days and, wow, when you see what it was before Ruth got involved ... although, well, they now house the over-flow kids in "the old buildings" so those days aren't really over. And, yes, they genuinely and desperately do need a new roof for the girl's dormitory - which is pretty much entirely rust - slightly less desperately for the boy's dormitory - which is about two-third's rust - AND two of the school houses will definitely need re-roofing in about six months because they are half-rust.

For everyone who isn't Michael, I will be doing a blog on the orphanage after I get back to Hong Kong so you'll know what we're on about. In the meantime, stuff has happened which isn't politic to talk about, so let's not, except to say the re-roofing money isn't there anymore - ah! ya gotta LOVE a Democratic People's Republic and its deeply caring public officials - and it's all very dire because none of these roofs are going to last much longer. Aussie Christine wants us all to help out ... and I think we are all intending to do so. Yes?

And that's about it. Of course it really isn't, but the rest of the day was things I've talked about before and which I plan to write about in greater depth later because they're all very important.

Off at dawn for Thailand. Keith flies out in the afternoon. He couldn't get on my flight, so we plan to meet at the hotel in Bangkok tomorrow night. Mmmm, the only thing I've heard of any news from anywhere is that there's again trouble in Bangkok ... so fingers crossed we don't get stuck there as well because we AREN'T staying at the Sheraton!

So that's all on our Laos holiday: Vientiane = Kinda yuck!; Luang Prabang = totally gorgeous, but only in winter.

Other useful stuff to know? The currency is KIP and it's like Vietnamese dong in that it's all stupidly large denominations and very difficult to handle, and so it's much handier to just keep your money in Thai BAHT. No one minds as Baht is the de-facto currency here.

And really good phrases to learn are : "Sabai dee" = hello; "kop jai" = thank you.

And you really need a shawl for night, particularly if you plan to ride around in open tuktuks. That can get very cold. However, there's no real need to bring one with you since they sell sublime ones here at the Night Market.

So au revoire for now and see you in Bangkok!


Thursday, December 18, 2008

Beyond Astonished!

OK, this is HUGE, but you probably have to be from Fiji to think so.

For the last two days, I'm walking around Vientiane in Laos, right?, and I keep hearing snatches of music and I think "Gosh, Laotian singing sounds very like Fijian singing." and find it a little strange but nothing more than that.

Then, last night, I hear what sounds like a Fijian choir and the words "Sa oti tu na bogi" and think "Oh, that's Fijian for "The storm is over!" and "Laotian must share many words in common with Fijian, only obviously here they mean different things."

And again this morning, passing a shop and I hear very-Fijian music and the words "Na bu ko drau a sola" and think "In Fijian, that would mean 'The coconut you gave me.' but obviously it doesn't mean that here." and I just go on with my life.

And again, this afternoon, I hear "Isa Lei" in the distance and go rigid with anger and think "These bloody Laotians have stolen a Fijian song! Someone MUST be sued!"

But then, not ten minutes ago, while having a massage, the song comes on again, and dammit if they don't do the whole thing in Fijian. Yup, it's "Isa Lei" done in Fijian and it's playing right here in Vientiane.

You get what this means, don't you? That some Fijian choir has a smash hit record here in Laos. It's everywhere.

OK, it's dark now and I have to get back to the hotel, but I promise you that tomorrow I will make it my mission to find out who this is ... so Fiji can check if whoever it is is knows about this and, vastly more importantly, is being paid royalties.

The Next Day:

After years of intensive research and backbreaking work ... OK, OK, I just went back to the massage place and made a total fool of myself miming what I wanted ... I have found out the name of the Fijian CD that Laotians are currently loving:


It's called "Polynesian Spa" and not only does it not mention the name of the choir, it doesn't even mention Fiji. If anyone wants to follow this up, it's put out by Central Digital Company Limited with an address in Thai script - ooh, wonder if I can get anyone to translate for me -it's easier to do it here than in Fiji - and it's got written all over it in big letters all these copyright infringement warnings which is damn cheeky under the circumstances!


The sweet little girl here says that it's in Thai and not Laotian - although they look the same to me - so I guess I'm going to have to ask someone to translate when I get there next week, so watch this space!

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Vientiane, Laos

Hard to believe, but Vientiane is Ingham with stupas and covered in mould:

Vientiane.

Yup, here it is, the capital of Laos, and it's nothing more than a small-ish Queensland town. It even looks like Ingham with the six lane streets and low-rise buildings - only it's loaded with all that stuff you'd expect to see in Indochina:

For example:

LOTS AND LOTS OF SODDING WATS.

Only here they're called Vats, but
let's instantly forget that piece of trivia.

Stupas.

That Luang.
Actually, there's an interesting story here.
Should tell you sometime.
And also, here, stupas are called Thats,
but let's forget that too.

Monks in saffron robes.

Two for the price of one:
monks and a stupa.

Folk in conical bamboo hats.

The look is surprisingly chic.
(Story about her below)

Folk toting stuff on bamboo poles

Except when it isn't!


Another two for the price of one, twice:
Bamboo poles AND conical hats.

Tuktuks.

Tuktuk AND a conical hat.

Crazy numbers of motorbikes.

And never driven in the right shoes!

Again, conical hats!

Food cooked and eaten on the streets.

And a conical hat.

This is really clever.
It's a coconut husk used as an oven.

Orchids Everyplace.


Ice carts Everyplace.

Such a blast from the past.
Grew up with these.


And they sell ice-cold coconuts too and hack off the top so you can drink it, just like at home:

Talk about wafts of nostalgia!

Bad Street Art.


Silk Shops, Silk Stalls, Silks, Silks, Silks.

It's like I've died and gone to heaven.

Took so many photos of silks I really need to turn it into a slide show and set it to music. The "Alleluia Chorus" from Handel's Messiah works for me.


GLORIOUSLY STUPID CHINGLISH SIGNS




But since Laos is also a communist country, there are things that are all it's own:

Enormous Flags on Public Buildings.

Strong Military Presence.

These guys were refreshingly dumb
and just a tad rather silly.
You go boys!

Large New Government Buildings that
Don't Quite Work Architecturally.



And New Buildings that are
Visual Masterpieces.

Monument to Those
Who Died in the Vietnam War.

This was so very beautiful I'm sorry I didn't get any good photographs. But here's another one anyway, so you can see the whole thing:


ENORMOUS SATELLITE DISHES ATOP WATS.


And now that you know what the town looks like, let's get down to the real business of this post:

MY HOLIDAY


DAY ONE:

Discovered why I was able to find a room here. As you know, this trip was suspended owing to the ruckus in Bangkok and then suddenly on again, which meant that my nice travel-room-booking-people (will give you website when I'm back in HK) said there wasn't a room to be had in the entire city ... which meant poor worried Keith spent simply hours phoning around every place and finally, yup, found me something: the very last room to be had in Vientiane!

It was all so "last minute", I had no idea which hotel I was in, so he also hired a car to pick me up at the airport, but said "No one there spoke English so it was hell trying to give them details, so look out for anything that remotely resembles your name." ... and here's what they came up with:

At least I think this was me.
Mr Mursy was out of a room
if I was wrong!


Anyway, The Last Room in Vientiane is an attic-room atop an old French building that's been bigtime Thai-ified ...

Khamkhoun Hotel

- love that wood-lace thing they do - and I think no one wants to rent it because ... well, apart from being up four increasingly narrow and steep flights of stairs ...

The nightmare stairs.

... it has thunderous air-conditioning, noisy fans, the worst-ever water pressure that means only the tinsiest trickle for a shower, and ... well, it also has something else that's very strange. The entire night something kept trying to rip off my bedcovers. The best thing about being away from Keith, I'd have thought, was that this wouldn't happen but ... whatever it is doesn't feel at all creepy so I think I'm going to have to learn the Laos for "Go towards the light!" ... or would that have to be French since it used to be a French home. Maybe I should try both.

Also the hotel is full of a great many strange foreign guests, all of whom are there "making visa", as the gaggle of Russian prostitutes told me. Very "Casablanca" indeed. Seems Thailand tosses everyone foreign out every three months and they have to stay away a couple of days before they're allowed to get another visa, which is great for nearby places like Vientiane that are just starting their Tourism Industry.

And the strange folk who "make visas" in Vientiane aren't even remotely interested in the country or in doing anything and all sit around the hotel all day, smoking and drinking, and being totally useless as a source of travel advice. Here's one of them:

A Jewish biker from Amsterdam.
I didn't know Jews had bikers!

Had lots of interesting chats, however, with all sorts who I'd never meet under usual circumstances. I now know all sorts of strange things, like that, in Holland, there are ever so many Jewish biker gangs, and that there is a thriving industry for Russian prostitutes in Thailand ... which means I now know where Wan Chai's gaggle of blond Russian prossies - who turned up out of the blue and then vanished again, I imagine, under pressure from our somewhat scary Mama-Sans - have ended up.

DAY TWO:

Psst, keep this under your hat, but I'm loving Laos. Don't let too many people know because it would be ruined if too many tourists rock into here. It's a gentle place with slow-starting mornings, sleepy afternoons and just when you're thinking, "Wow, must have a brutal nightlife." everyone is home in bed with the lights out by 8 pm.

They also stop everything to watch various Thai soaps ...

... although this restaurant
shut down to watch the
Thai version of Steve Irwin.

Vientiane isn't a big town and it's not really designed for tourists. It's only the morning of my second day and already I've done everything there is to do, except visit the museum which I'll do this afternoon ... and haven't visited Buddha Park either because that's wayyy out of town, however Mr Lee ...

Not an overly nice fellow.

... says he will take me in his tuktuk tomorrow. I keep wandering around the streets photographing buildings and gardens, then getting hopelessly lost, but then within a minute I recognise something and know where I am. It's too small and compact to really get lost yourself in.

Any good stories? Well, not really, although there's The Little Girl Who Didn't Get Killed:

Alive and well!

She ran out on the road in front of me and a tuktuk had to swerve to avoid hitting her and wiped out the market stall of The Chic Woman while doing so. (Have another look at that photo above. She's only three minutes away from having her stall wiped out.) All a great drama when it happened, with much diving out of the way and fearful screaming, but, almost instantly afterwards, no one really minded. Everyone was just so pleased the kiddie wasn't killed, and the rest seemed to be seen as collateral damage. The tuktuk driver waited just long enough to see the little girl reunited with her mother and then drove off. It's like this sort of thing is "everyday" and ho hum round these parts.

I guess another story would be me wandering the streets for over an hour last night, retracing my steps, trying to find the cute French outdoor restaurant I'd seen during the day ...

Because I just loved the sculptures,
decided I had to come back to try the food.

It took me over an hour of wandering around in the dark, searching one street after another, until, finally, miraculously, saw it again, and, yes, had a great meal there. Then, this morning, out on my veranda ...

Right there! Can you see it?

Totally shocked me! Honestly, I have a praeternatural sense of direction!

And I guess another story would be that I chased and grabbed a beggar this morning. Cute little boy, very poor, very dirty and in rags, and he wasn't actually begging; he was selling chewing gum.
My Little Not-A-Beggar Boy.

Was in the middle of breakfast at a street cafe so I didn't buy any and he walked off, but then I noticed my lighter was missing. Since all my other lighters were confiscated at the airport and I haven't seen any for sale here, this was a major calamity. I'd seen the little boy touching it earlier and saw him off in the distance so sprinted off down the street and grabbed him. Since we had no language in common, it was all done in mime but he realised my problem and walked back to my table and showed me that all he'd done was put it inside my cigarette case. I felt all kinds of mean so, by way of apology, I gave him my little Buddha blessings pouch charm I was given at Chi Lin Nunnery. I thought he needed blessings more than I did. And after he'd left this time I realised he'd actually stolen my butter ... and was off in the distance licking it out of the packet ... and good luck to him.

Of course I realised later that, in my mad dash after him, I'd left my bag etc behind, but this isn't Vietnam and the people are fundamentally honest so, despite another beggar stealing my bread, my bag was still under my chair, so no harm done.

Hey, in two days the only time I've been cheated here was by a Vietnamese pair! Talk about typecasting yourself, huh!

And the only other story-ette is I fixed my ghost last night! It was a last straw thing! See, stupidly, when I went out on the veranda to have a late-night smoke I left the door ajar and when I returned inside, the entire room was full of mosquitoes! Like, literally a haze of black of them ... so I turned the fan on to get rid of them only the fan was both savagely noisy AND connected to the bathroom light which meant I couldn't have one without the other ...

... so there I am, trying to sleep with a light shining right in my face and the bloody fan practically screaming, ... but when I turn them both off, the zillion mosquitoes return and buzz around me ... so the night's turning into a nightmare ... and then, right when I'm finally drowsy and dozing ... my bedclothes are yanked off, and I was just so livid I yelled at the stupid thing to sod off ... and then remembered the thing about white lighting that I'd seen on "Charmed" and did that and it seemed to do the trick. I even managed to get to sleep immediately afterwards so I think I'm going to do the "Charmed" thing every night from now on.

That's all for now. I'm safe and well, and must tell you that Keith was wrong ... I didn't "simply find myself a nice streetside cafe and sit around drinking copious cups of tea, smoking vast numbers of cigarettes and doing sudakos". Course I didn't. Instead, I found myself a sublimely gorgeous streetside cafe ...

Bon Cafe on Setthathirath Avenue
next to Nam Phu

...and I'm doing Killer Sudakos.


DAY THREE:

Solved The Mystery of the Music, which you can read about in the post above. It was a fun mission and I loved having something to do.

Love the Laotian colour sense, although I already knew that before I arrived and was the reason I wanted to come. They do "dark wood aesthetic" better than anyone else on the planet, although it's really distressing how badly they treat all this exquisite old hardwood furniture. It's sooo taken for granted that they have stuff you'd die for out, say, in the garden or on the veranda, exposed to the weather.

Throwing out tradition!

And I saw a rubbish pile yesterday (above) that broke my heart because all the stuff in it, anywhere else, would have been in a museum; all these old broken ancient statues. Met a charming American-Laotian girl earlier today and I told her how I felt and her only reaction was "They'll regret it when it's all gone!" Mmmm, ho hum!

No real news. Lots of wandering, photographing, chatting with random strangers, sitting around in my favourite cafe, visiting wats, taking tuktuk rides, getting massages ... same ol' same ol'. In fact, just talking about massages makes me want another one, so I'm off there immediately.

DAY FOUR:

My ghost? Update is that there is nothing to report. Absolutely nothing happened last night and I didn't even "whitelight". I did however try to see if I could see ghosts - which I never have - so spent nearly an hour in my room last night squinting into the middle distance just in case ghosts were like those 3D pictures that suddenly come into focus ... but nothing whatsoever. But, hey, did you know that if you stare at a lightbulb for ages and then look away, you can make the "light echo" on your retina move all around the room? That's a cool thing to do when you're hopelessly bored!

My only other piece of news is that I met my little beggar again today and this time he asked me if he could take my butter. I thought it was nice he didn't steal it this time so offered him my bread as well. And then I noticed the strangest thing. See the photographs? He's eating my bread and there's a dog watching him eat ...

... and so he gives the bread to the dog ...

Hardly beggarly behaviour.
Or maybe he just empathised
with the dog.

... and then proceeded to lick the butter out of the packet. Same as last time. Guess he just likes butter; probably a nutritional deficiency. Oh, and see the pouch he's wearing. I gave him that: an old Qantas overnight pouch with toothbrush, comb, toothpaste, etc in it and he was totally thrilled - like literally danced with joy - and the old French guy sitting at the table next to me said, very pensively, "I gave my daughter a BMW for her last birthday and she screamed at me that it was the wrong colour!" Think that says it all!

Leave tomorrow for Luang Prabang and an e-mail from Keith has just informed me that I don't have a hotel there! Everything is booked! Bit grim, huh! But also very "First Christmas." Mmmm, not looking forward to lugging my bags around everyplace myself so hopefully Keith finds something in the next few hours.

Off for massage now. See you later!

NIGHT OF LAST DAY:

Little worried about not having a hotel room in Luang Prabang. I really don't like the idea of sleeping in the open. It may be dangerous.

Mind you, everyone said that Vientiane was dangerous, and, well, although I have thoroughly enjoyed the place, I can see what folks mean. Couple of times I've been a little freaked. Mainly by, you know, the Mountain People, who are called, I believe, the Lao Song. They have a way of looking at you like they're wondering what your head would look like three inches big.

Am hanging around now in a cybercafe hoping Keith will drop by for an on-line chat and I can find out what fate awaits me.

Summing up days later!

Can't say I was sorry to leave Vientiane. Lovely place but gosh it got creepy after a while. I think people are right to warn you about the horrors that happen within the place. There is definitely something dangerous and nasty lurking just below the surface. It was kinda good to get away and just in time too, I strongly suspect!

... OK, what happened was that morning of the final day, I woke "feeling all Irish"; my body tingling with that very alive sense of danger and foreboding that I highly respect because it always keeps me out of trouble. I call it "being bansheed" because, according to legend, all descendants of Brian Boru have a banshee to warn them of danger, and since I'm a descendant of Brian Boru through his eldest son Morrough, ipso facto, this is my banshee warning me of something.

Anyway, the banshee-ing was happening to me bigtime and, at first, I couldn't work out where the threat was coming from and thought it may be the jungle people - Lao Song - who were creeping me out ... but then I realised that it actually was coming from the sleazy young tuktuk drivers. Lone woman! Unprotected and vulnerable! Limping impala at the waterhole! That sort of thing. They had something unpleasant planned for me, I knew, and there were a lot of them in on it, but ...

... forewarned is forearmed so I only selected tuktuks with more ethnically Chinese-looking drivers without a hint of cheekbones. 90% of Laotians are Khmer, yes, but there are 60 different races living there, and I figured that ... well, if they weren't young Khmer sleazebags they'd speak a different language and thus they'd be out of the loop, so I would be safe with them, and I was right except ...

... gosh, that was a fraught couple of seconds on the last night. See, I had to hang around the cybercafe waiting for Keith to confirm I had accommodation so it was very late when I finally left. Wary, I walked past a lot of tuktuks with definitely-Khmer drivers until I found one off by itself with a very Chinese-looking elderly driver and so I asked him to take me to the hotel. But then he starts to take me out of town! I'm all "MIZ-TAAAKE!!!!" so I say "Hey, my hotel is that way!" and he says "Khamkhan?" and I say "Khamkhoun!" and he's all "Sorry, sorry!" and turns the tuktuk around!

Yeah, yeah, tedious story but kinda a big deal freaky when it happened. Promise I'll never tell it again! But I'll tell it just this once as a warning that Vientiane isn't really the sort of place you should be in alone, if you're female that is! I think I was just very lucky.

Gosh, how do people who aren't Irish ever survive!