Laos Slideshow

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From the earthy brown pigment of the Mekong River, to the saffron robes worn by the Buddhist novices, or the intense green grass in the countryside, and the golden lotus petals of Pha That Luang Temple--The brilliant colors of Laos will remain painted in my memory, along with the friendly smiles of the Lao people, the tasty varieties of fresh fruit shakes sipped along with delectable Lao dishes, the temples, and the outdoorsy activities. Elephant riding, tubing, and motorbiking are at an arms reach away. Best of all, Laos it’s reasonably untouched. It’s one of the few places left on this planet without a McDonalds or Starbucks. The country itself is poor and undeveloped, a region composed of mountains and very few resources. Traveler footprints are far less visible than in other areas in the region, though they are developing at a reasonable rate. Laos is decades behind somewhere like Thailand, a place that has clearly been discovered on the tourism trail. Although Laos is known as “the most bombed country in history,” according to the Lonely Planet, everything seems a bit more laid back in Laos.

Laos, Part One: Luang Prabang

It was an easy decision to venture to Laos after completing my summer contract in Korea. I was eager for an escape after working 60 hour weeks. My coworker and lunch bunch buddy Christine longed to go to Laos after hearing so many rave reviews from her well-traveled friends. We had the time, we had the money, why not?
(Pictured: A view of the Mekong River)

We were off to a rocky start when Christine showed up late at the airport minus one bag. She’d lost her backpack in between taxis and busses on the way to the airport, and would have to do without her sunglasses, her book, and her anti-Malarial tablets! She was in surprisingly good spirits when I met her at check-in, and didn't let that spoil her enthusiasm for Laos.

LUANG PRABANG
(Novice Monks collecting alms along the streets in Luang Prabang)

Rather than read the guidebook, we talked the whole way to Laos and utilized other resources to gather information about our destination. We met Aunt Vicky, so we called her, on the plane to Luang Prabang. She was more than happy to share her expertise about her favorite place on the planet. At sixty years old, the US expat had enough lifetime achievements to fill a book: 8 PHD’s, 6 Masters degrees, a knack for languages, 120 countries ticked off her list, so-called psychic connections, and a neck brace. She considered herself a regular in Luang Prabang.
(Above right: The night market)
Aunt Vicky invited us to the locals' holiday boat race the next day. It was truly wonderful to participate in the local celebration. We made friends with the children and treated them to a ride on the merry-go-round.


(The view from Phi Si)

We visited two of the surrounding waterfalls with another traveler named Jordan. Jordan was a 23-year-old Canadian who just finished a year contract teaching English in Seoul. As much as he was “the weakest link” at times--concerned about his health, suffering from unknown anti-malarial medication side effects and worries about Rabies--he was brave to take such a big step out of his comfort zone to travel SE Asia. We welcomed him to tag along and spent the better half of our trip together.


I enjoyed seeing the Tat Kuang Si waterfalls, however the tuk tuk ride was probably more eventful. We broke down twice on the way there, and survived a massive downpour on the way back. It was the rainy season, after all. The next day, we visited the Tat Sae waterfalls. This excursion was a bit more exciting. We took tiny boats to an island where we tromped through the lower tiers of the waterfalls on elephant back.

Our tuk tuk driver, Chanti, was super cool and joined us for the day. And that evening, Chanti invited us out with his friends.
Luang Prabang is not known for its nightlife, but we were happy to have a night out on the town, regardless. We spent the evening drinking Beer Lao at the disco and watching the Lao girls dance "Lao style." It reminded me of a toned down, slow version of square dancing, moving in formations with minimal arm movements, swaying gently flexed wrists to the left and right sides.

Laos: Part Two: Vang Vieng

We showed up for the bus ride to Vang Vieng in good condition. Lord knows, winding around hairpin curves on a bus for six hours hungover would have been atrocious.

When we arrived, we followed the Irish posse to their chosen guesthouse, where we bargained like mad to get affordable rooms with a view. And a great view it was--Mystical clouds surrounded the limestone formations that lined the Nam Som River.

In the room, I discovered some bad news: my backpack crawling with ants! Dozens of creepy, crawly, miniature, marching red ants! There were ants in my clothes, ants smashed up on the side of my toothbrush head, and worst of all, ants in my underpants. That being the case, everything went straight to the laundry.

Vang Vieng is a quiet town but a popular stop among travelers headed to or from Vientiane. There’s not much to do in the town but watch a few episodes of Friends while chowing down on some grub, use the internet, or get a Lao massage.

We rented motorbikes and had a crazy adventure cruising through the countryside. We discovered the most gorgeous scenery, passing cows and kids on the trail. We bumped along dirt roads and across mud puddles and zipped across bridges narrow and narrower.


However, most of the visitors in Vang Vieng are here for one thing and one thing only: TUBING.

It was explained to me as the "ultimate lazy river experience", but, see, this wasn’t an ordinary float down the river. I hesitate to call it “lazy” in any shape or form, because there were very few moments spent calmly floating down the river. Most of the time, I was at the mercy of the river, subtly drifting in the wrong direction at all times, or worse yet, stuck in a hole. Other times, I was wildly paddling to avoid overhanging tree branches or large rocks. Only occasionally, was it a lazy river experience.

Every hundred yards, there was a “rest stop” full of happy-go-lucky tubing machines. Twenty-somethings stowed their lifevests and perched at picnic tables in bikinis or swimming trunks, sipping on Beer Lao and buckets of whisky and Coke. Five or more bars lined the calm waters of the Nam Som, adding a spectacular backpacker twist to the traditional tubing idea.

On our first day, we only made it to the first bar. A young boy reached out his giant bamboo stick to pull us into the off-loading zone. As Christine and I stepped onto the rocky beach, our attention fixated on the the crazy dude leaping off a giant podium within the trees, swinging through the air via trapeze, and then dropping fifteen feet below...Cowabunga!


It was a rush all right. But poor Christine’s hands slipped off the trapeze seconds too early, and she ended up performing the belly flop heard ‘round the world. Her fall was jaw dropping; she just fell out of the sky. Afterwards, her belly was a bit black & blue, purple and yellow for the next week. Luckily, she was able to laugh it off, and share her story and battle wounds with fellow tubers.

Day two, we were much more successful at tubing. We made it to bar number three and four--mud wrestling bar & techno dancing bar--even after someone stole our tubes and we had to walk through the jungle to steal them back.

We didn’t stay long, because sunset was fast approaching, and we didn’t want to be floating down the river in the dark. We cruised on down with the current, until we saw a fork in the river. That’s when we realized: No one really explained where to get off. We were thankful a young Lao girl swam out to us and grabbed hold of both mine and Christine’s rafts. We weren't sure where she was taking us, but she assured us it would only take 5 minutes. We then saw ten other tubers float on past. We suspected we were entering a tourist trap, so we quickly hopped back in our tubes to follow the group down the river.

After we turned the bend, we realized, our leaders were in over their heads, and had to abort mission in the worst of all places. We attempted to carefully pop out of our tubes and try to make an anchor with our feet, but it was a difficult mission with the strong current. A rough landing, indeed, touching down in a swampy wasteland, twenty feet below the pedestrian bridge. I cringed as my feet sunk deeper and deeper into the mud while hiking to shore. It was not a great place to be in barefeet and bare skin at primetime mosquito time at sunset. I cut my toe, and the mosquitoes had a feast.

Despite our failures, we had a memorable time surviving the tubing experience. We well earned our commemorative t-shirts: “in the TUBING Vang Vieng.”

To top it all off, when we got back to the room, I soon learned my ant-infested laundry had been destroyed--My whites were now pink. Uh!

That evening, we sat around the dinner table giggling about the disasters from the day, which became more and more funny as time passed. The day's events prompted a hilarious monologue by Christine, appropriately titled, “I love the city.” Halleluah to that. We'd had enough of the countryside and the Malaria worry. Time for Vientiane.

Laos: Part Three: Vientiane

Back to civilization, we got on the bus to Vientiane, the capital of Laos. Christine and I were delighted to bump into the cute "Waterfall Boys," the ones we’d met at the Luang Prabang waterfall. Tommer, Matt and Ben were our buddies in Vientiane. We planned to find a guesthouse together, although those long-term travelers and we short-term vacationers had two very different budgets in mind. Christine wispers, “You mean this isn’t backpacking?” referring to our $20-30 USD guesthouses a night--a noticeable downgrade compared to Christine’s previous trip to Thailand (sleeping in fancy hotels), and a substantial upgrade for me (thinking about my last trip to SE Asia, sweating in non-airconditioned cells). “No,” I explain, “Backpacking” is what these boys are doing. They're sleeping in dorm rooms on bunk beds, sharing a communal shower down the hall, and paying $5 US a night. We agreed it was worth the extra $7 each to have a lock on our door and air con, so we followed the boys to the cheapest hostel in the book, and Christine and I splurged on the guesthouse across the street.

(Christine, Tommer, Ben, Matt, Me & Ross sip on fruit shakes at Sabaidee Cafe)

For a capital city, Vientiane was only semi-bustling. There was not much to see and do in Vientiane, except hang out with our travel buddies, the Waterfall Boys, Ross (the cute Hollywood actor / ex snowboard pro), and the Irish peeps (Glenn & the girls). We took it easy, and enjoyed a relaxing meal along the riverfront at sunset and gazed at Thailand on the other side. We also found a hotel nightclub, and watched some old white dudes try their luck with the Lao ladies-Eeewwe.

We rented motorbikes the next day and zoomed over to Xieng Khuan, known as “Buddha Park" to see the larger-than-life sized statues of Buddha and other deities.

In one monument, we crawled through three floors, hell, earth, and heaven, to reach the beautiful panoramic views of the park.

We also zipped over to Pha That Luang to admire the golden lotus petals and small stupas of Pha That Luang.

Buh Bye Korea

(Nice pants.)

A slideshow for the summer crew:
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=7851716973941886698&hl=en
(This was way better with the theme song of the summer, Mariah Carey's "I'll Be Lovin' You Long Time", but, there are copyright issues with Google Uploader). GRRR.

Work Hard. Play Hard.

In Korea, work takes priority. It is not unusual to see businessmen in their suits on a Saturday, or to spot teenagers in school uniforms late in the evening hours. It's normal to leave my roommate in the kitchen grading papers when I go to bed, and to find him still editing essays early the next morning. Work is work, here in Korea, and there is much to be done.

For my students, English is a gateway to a successful future. Though many Americans take it for granted, speaking English as a first language is a mighty privilege. Korean parents push their children to study study study, and focus on English in particular. Many parents send their kids to private after-school academies, known as hakwons, in order to "get ahead"--a tradition that is now easily the standard. The lucky will go abroad to attend the finest high schools and universities in America.

With this in mind, I try not to feel bad for the students sitting in my "intensive" TOEFL class each day of summer vacation. Even though they come to school for four to eight hours a day, five days a week, and take on hours of homework in the evenings, they are the lucky ones.

On the other hand, you can only memorize so many vocabulary words, and color in 10,000 bubbled answer choices. A little fun is in order...

(sticker pics with the students)

By my watch, that means, teaching the students absurd handshakes and dances during classtime and making them perform these routines in order to earn extra credit. Dances like Madonna's "Vogue," "Ahhh, Freak Out," and "Hoyah Hoyah Hoyah, Juliana is the Best" were at first hated by some, but with time, a game the students enthusiastically enjoyed. For added entertainment, my coworkers and I occasionally dropped tidbits of personal information to our students and let their imaginations run wild. A simple lunch with Paul returned back to me, in the words of my students, as a "date." A lunch with Paul and Christine became a vicious love triangle, developing into love, heart break, and one teacher punching another. It's just all part of the daily humdrum of life.


Things like this make the days a little bit more enjoyable.

As for the teachers--our fun happened around planning lessons, grading papers, and writing student comments. (But hey, it was better than being a student and doing homework--at least you have the answer key). The hours making notes in the textbook and writing vocabulary quizzes were balanced by the sacred moments of lunch hour.


We often organized special meals for our "lunch bunch." Lunch hour occasionally turned into a special "teacher meeting," including lots of talk about our students, Mr. Pizza (potato gold), and Taboo.


And of course, lunchtime practice sessions at Norebang.

All with incredible awards...

Work hard. Play hard. That is the key.