New to Laos (part 2 of 2)

2/2/10

Still Tuesday:

We all cleared “customs” with our new visas for Laos. We were told the bus would come by 10am to continue our journey. It came after 1pm, except it was a different bus. Apparently, they had transferred all of our baggage from the first bus to a new Laotian bus. They had not told us this would happen and we were all relieved that two of the guys had decided to walk back to the bus to check on it and had ensured that all of our bags, water bottles, small bags, and snacks had made it to the new bus.

We eagerly boarded the bus. We rolled forward 20m and then everyone got off again. Huh? The bus pulled ahead another 30m, we walked along side it, past the border control office. Then we got back on. Apparently, you can’t be on a vehicle when you cross the border?

Relieved to be on the bus and on our way, we settled into our seat with zero leg room. Twenty minutes later we were stopped again. In front of us was another construction site. The sign said the road would open at 4pm. We waited in the dust for 30 minutes and somehow they had cleared the road enough to let us through. Again we were on our way!

“Let’s see how long we can go without stopping,” I said to Dina, the Israeli I was sitting with.
5 minutes later we stopped again. This time we could see the massive hills of dirt blocking our way. “You opened your mouth to the devil. Do you have this expression in English?” Dina asked.
“No, but I think I understand it,” I smiled. We waited an hour this time to get through.

A total of 6 times, I believe, we were stopped by road construction, sometimes waiting 20 minutes, once waiting 2 hours. The worst of it was that no one had anticipated this. We were quickly running out of water and no one had eaten lunch, much less a decent breakfast.

Everyone was hungry. I was amazed by one family with two little boys. One about 2 years old and the other still breast feeding. The family was so quiet, including the children. They waited patiently on the bus with every stop. Those children must have been so hungry. The last stop we faced such an upheaved road that we couldn’t see any flat road ahead. There was only one back-hoe working hard, but it was piling dirt from the cliff onto the road, the wrong way! We thought perhaps we would be on the road all night; it seemed there was no way this could be cleared before dark. Amazingly, the one back-hoe did it. Ultimately, we arrived in Muong Kwah at 5:30pm, 12 hours after our 5 hour bus ride had begun.

The positive of this trip was meeting all the cool travellers on the bus with me. We all stayed in the same guest house together and enjoyed dinner together, sharing travel adventures and advice. Dina and I discussed travel plans and she asked me if I was interested in staying in Northern Laos with her instead of going straight to Luang Prabang. I decided it would be fun to have someone to travel with for a couple days and to see more of Northern Laos before arriving in LP, a chance to trek and maybe do a home-stay.

Wednesday

The next morning we left together, saying good bye to the rest of the group who would head south. We caught a bus to Oudamaxi to then head to Luang Nam Tha. I was surprised to see the same family with the two little boys on the bus with us again to Oudamaxi. This poor family was traveling for so long with two little kids. And they really didn’t look like they had anything to eat with them. But the boys were so good, quietly playing together and napping on their parents’ laps. The father took an equal role in comforting the children. Occassionally I could get a smile from the father, but the mother was completely silent and with no facial expressions. It seemed that she was entirely concentrated on getting to their destination, with no energy for social interactions. The couple would speak quietly together. They were wearing the same clothes as the long day before in the dust, and their entire belongings they had with them were in one large backpack. I wondered how much the bus tickets must cost for them.

We arrived in Oudamaxi without any problems. Dina and I found the bank and exchanged some money and checked our emails. I found a Chinese restaurant by the bus station. There is a large Chinese influence in Laos, particularly Northern Laos. China is sponsoring the construction of a major highway through the country that will quickly alter Laos’ innocent landscape. With new “friendship” bridges and borders opened, the exchange is for several hundred-thousand hectares of Laotian forest to be at China’s disposal for timber extraction. One could say Laos has forest to spare, but I’m sure the local communities would disagree, and on a whole SE Asia does not have forest to spare. Laos has some of the last primary forests supporting endemic species. Like Japan to Canada, China needs its neighbor’s resources to support its booming industry and economy. Now, before tourism and industry take over, is the time to visit Laos. It is one of the most peaceful, simple countries to travel through. I regret I don’t have more time and a companion to see Lao properly. Instead, I’m mostly stuck on the tourist track. Though, in Laos, you still don’t see many other Westerner’s even when you are taking buses between main destinations and the people are wonderful.

So, I found a Chinese restaurant for lunch. I asked for a menu with my hands but didn’t really expect to find one. A group of Chinese men were sitting around a table, enjoying a large meal. They asked me to join them. I tried to decline as politely as possible. Sometimes local invitations are wonderful, but I usually avoid invitations by groups of young men, the attention (staring rather) is not what I’m interested in.

The restaurant owner took me by the arm a carton of eggs and picked one up. “Yes, hao.” I said. Eggs with a stir-fry would be great. She picked up a tomato. Ok! Then she pointed to the bowl of steamed rice on the table of the men. The message was clear, “Fried-rice with egg.”

I didn’t really feel like fried-rice. It’s so generic. That must have been why she suggested it to me, a fa-rang as they call us westerners. I stared over the shoulders of the men, examining the delicious looking vegetable dishes. I felt like my father. He always makes his rounds in restaurants to inspect everyone else food. I point to some dish that looks yummy and try to ask for it with eggs. The woman shakes her head violently. Again she points to the egg in her hand and the rice on the table. And then she points to me! “You will have fried-rice.” I try again, “Can I try this dish?” Her head shakes and I submit. Fried rice it is. Why don’t I remember my Chinese from university? Karin, where are you?

Several minutes later a man (must have been the woman’s husband) walks out of the kitchen carrying a dish of tofu in some type of spicy tomato sauce. I point to it and ask him for it. He gets excited and agrees to make it for me. It’s delicious! Mixed with the fried rice, now I have a good meal. I find here that eating rice fills me up quickly, but I’m soon just as hungry as I was. I don’t think my body is capable of really digesting the rice and getting the energy from it that people here clearly rely on. I prefer to eat noodles and vegetables (and sometimes french fries!).

We board our bus to Luang Nam Tha, and once more there is the same family with the boys. The ride should take 4 hours, we will be passing only several Kms away from the Chinese border at one point. 30 minutes into the trip we hear a metallic snap, some grinding, and the bus pulls over. That did not sound like a flat tire. Everyone gets out. The driver begins the steps to what looks like fixing a flat tire, lowering the spare and pulling out the jack. But I don’t see a flat.

Instead, what I do see is the bus sitting extremely low over one of the back wheels. Could the axil have snapped? As Dina pointed out, the driver was fairly careless about navigating this section of a very bad road, we had been bouncing out of our seats. I’m starting to get a hang of this Lao travelling. I pull out my kindle and settle down on my large plastic map to read. Dina entertains an older man who seems really keen to practice his fading English skills. After 45min the word is that the bus is very broken. They will send another bus to pick us up and continue to Luang Nam Tha. When? No one knows. Soon. We wait.

Dina suggests hitchhiking. I’m not opposed to the idea since I am with her, but it’s getting late and if we don’t find a vehicle going directly to our destination we may be somewhere we don’t want to be in the dark. Besides, all the vehicles passing us are already full. We wait longer. I ask when the bus is coming. 10 minutes someone says. Bullshit. 30 minutes later I ask again. Does anyone know if a bus is actually on its way? I decide to try to see if I can spark some incentive in everyone that is standing so patiently and apathetic on the side of the road. I’m starting to get cold, and the sun is going down. If I can’t get a real answer I’m not waiting for a mythical bus. I raise my voice and ask, “When? When is the bus coming?” No one knows. The driver has a phone, why doesn’t he call and check? I point to the driver, I imitate a phone call, “Can he call?” He was on his phone earlier. “No,” seems to be the response. I look at the driver and ask him to call, he just looks at me and laughs shaking his head. No one seems to be communicating directly with the driver. A young man from Vientiane and his girlfriend said that they lied to him when they told him the bus would come in 10 minutes, 1 hour ago. Ok, I tried. Even when I am more aggressive about it no one will tell me that the bus is actually on its way (someone had said it was coming from Luang Prabang which is 5 hours away at least). They aren’t even lying to say that a bus will be here soon, and in my experience that is not a good sign of progress. There is no way I am waiting in the cold and dark on the side of the road where every time a vehicle passes we get surrounded by dust.

A tuk-tuk (pick-up truck with bench seats) has arrived and is waiting on the road for 2 girls from Vientiane who seem to be deciding to head back to Oudamaxi. Dina and I are uncertain of what to do. If we go back we lose the 35,000 kip ($4 US) for the ticket and have to pay for the tuk-tuk. And what if another bus does come? I find it highly unlikely that will happen in the next 3 hours. I’d much rather spend the night in a bed then on the road in the cold. After a game of chicken with the other 2 girls, seeing who would cave first to head back, just in case the bus comes in the next minute.

Ultimately, the 2 girls and the couple from Vientiane head back with us to town. It seems that those who could afford to buy the 2nd ticket and a night in a guest-house went back. Everyone else was more willing to wait it out in the cold, either of incredible patience or necessity. Before we left I gave the mother of the family my packet of biscuits. She seemed very surprised and she shook her head at first, but I only had to ask her once more and she took it. It wasn’t much, but at least something for the little boys. I felt so bad for them and hoped the bus would come soon so they could reach their destination. I don’t know where they started or how far they were still headed, but this would be the end of their 2nd day of non-stop travel without food or water each day that I had witnessed.

Tomorrow, maybe, we will reach our destination...