length; the guidebook was silent on this front. Our guesthouse told us
that the boat left at 9am; we forgot to ask on the boat because we
were so excited to be getting off. We tried to be early even though we
were sure the boat would leave late, just in case it didn't. We didn't
want to be the two yahoos that missed the boat and got stuck in the
town set up to be a one night stand.
Breakfast
Last night, both our guesthouse and our dinner restaurant reminded us
that they served breakfast and would make us a sandwich to take away,
so we knew we would have options. We got some rice soup and two
sandwiches to go at a small place on the main drag (is there anything
else here besides the main drag?). We enjoyed watching the fleets of
school children push their bikes up the massive hill in their
ill-fitting school uniforms. The hill leveled out just past our
breakfast joint so we got to see them conquer the hill and mount their
bikes. Also enjoyable was Robert's interaction with a toddler at the
breakfast place. As we were leaving, the little girl ran up to Robert
and ran her fingers over his legs, then ran away squealing. She kept
repeating this; finally we understood that she thought the amount of
hair on his legs was so ridiculous she just had to touch it. Poor
hairy ogre.
We stopped at another place on the way to the boat and got more
sandwiches and a pack of oreo cookies. We still had another bag of
chips, shaped like French fries, complete with catsup, so we avoided
buying another bag. Some mini-bananas that turned out to be delicious
rounded out our boat snacks; I might never buy full-sized bananas
again! We got to our boat, but no one was on it, instead an identical
boat was being loaded. Did the boat number matter? Probably not we
figured, so we secured two benches on the loading boat and began our
wait. We were about 45 min early for the alleged 9:00 departure.
Standoff
We were by no means the first on the boat, nor the last. A large crowd
of people showed up shortly after us though, none of them willing to
get on the boat. What was going on? Then we saw the French-Thai woman
who had arranged the luxury boat the previous day; she was at it
again. It was hard to hear and understand exactly what the
negotiations were, but she had the strength of the entire group behind
her, about 30 western travelers. We figured these were the people who
had paid for the luxury boat yesterday and now they were only being
offered a standard boat. No way! The standoff brewed for over an hour.
Our boat was mostly filled and it was clear that people on our boat
were ready to leave. Eventually another boat was brought around to
load and a price for the few luxury seats was agreed upon, 70B per
seat. The dock emptied and that boat quickly filled, most people
didn't understand that they would need to pay extra for the special
seats at the back and they were unwilling to do so, causing more
shuffling and more delay. Silly people. Eventually that boat pulled
out and we were still waiting, annoying. Finally finally we got to
leave as well. I consoled myself with the fact that our boat was more
diverse and thus would afford better people watching. I was glad not
to be on the overly fussy peoples' boat anyways! Departure time: 9:50,
right on time, 50 min late.
Pictures
I mentioned that our boat was more diverse than the other boat; we had
many locals and several Asian tourists as well. This meant that our
boat stopped a lot, dropping and picking up various people along the
way. This was much more interesting than just cruising straight
through, who lived along the river anyways? Any time we stopped, a
million cameras were produced and frantically snapped photos of the
those leaving or boarding the boat. It made me wonder about pictures.
So you took an interesting picture of a person from a small town along
the river, now what? What have you gained? At what cost? I am just as
guilty, if not more - I really like taking pictures. I am curious
about this new place and the people here, but so is everyone else and
everyone fancies himself a photographer. How does it impact the people
here to constantly have their pictures taken? From a boat, you can't
really ask for consent. You snap and float away, no chance of
interaction at all. But I want to remember the people and places that
I see here. It's a conundrum for me. How could I be more responsible
in my picture taking? How could my pictures be the result of a
meaningful exploration of a new culture?
On a related note, when Thai's travelled within Thailand, they took
millions of pictures of anything and everything. (I am thinking about
what we saw in Pai.) Did they always ask first? Is it different if you
are traveling within your home country? Are you given a pass or were
they being just as rude and culturally insensitive as I am at times?
Back on the boat, there was an old Chinese man (seen in a few pictures
sitting right behind Robert). He literally took pictures of
everything. Every stop, every village, every person. I even saw him
attempt to take a picture of me when I was posing for Robert to take a
picture of the ketchup and French fry chips, but he was to slow. He
wasn't asking either. No one seemed to pay him any mind. Was it
because of his race or his age or was he annoying people, I just
didn't catch the scowls? Too many questions for one boat ride.
Boat Ride
Part way through our journey, it began to rain, not fat drops, but
lots of little ones. It started blowing into the open-sided boats so
we unfurled the blue rain flaps. This made it nice and warm onboard -
why did we decide to stow our jackets in our duffels, currently,
residing inside the hull, under a mess of people? No one liked how
stuffy the boat soon became and some people opted to raise the flaps
next to them, showering others with water. I liked seeing out, just
not getting wet. I think the guy in front of me just wanted to smoke.
He smoked most of the way, but wouldn't smoke with the flaps down
thank goodness!
Soon enough I needed to use the bathroom, which thankfully our boat
had. It did not, however, have the entire toilet seat. It was a
western toilet today (yesterday's boat had a squatter), but only half
a seat, effectively turning it into a squatter anyways. This was fine
enough, but midway through use, the boat listed to the side as it was
apt to do and spilled the full bucket of river water on the floor and
over my feet. Bleck. It was not an experience I was quick to want to
repeat.
A word about the bench seats. Today's benches were ill-designed. When
I first sat on mine, I thought it was off kilter because one leg was
too short, so I asked Robert to move back a seat so I could get one
that didn't wiggle. Then I noticed they were all tippy. The legs were
too close to one side and the bench extended too far past the other
side. It was a recipe for disaster. An old woman tipped hers
completely over once and the man in front of me who was trying to
sleep on his three foot bench nearly tumped himself on the floor
backwards. Amusing, if mine wasn't equally as tippy.
Litter
Robert and I had plenty to eat today. The family in front of us
brought enough food as well. As is often the case, it took me hours to
realize that the family wasn't from Laos or from Thailand; they were
speaking a different language altogether. I enjoyed watching them most
of the day. They brought two giant cases of M150, a popular and
foul-smelling energy drink, but not for the boat ride; they needed a
supply for their travels into non-M150 country. They also brought
sticky rice, sauce and meat bits. They ate lunch by very selectively
working their way through the meat bits, touching each one every time
they grabbed a bite, in a search for the perfect bit for that bite.
They also manhandled the sticky rice, grab a hunk, shape it into a
bite size ball, roll it in the sauce and then pop it into their mouth.
I love sticky rice. It's probably worse for you than even white rice,
but it is so fun to eat.
After their meal was over, all the trash was dumped unceremoniously
into the river!!!! The man did it right in front of me and I wanted to
scream. I almost put my hand out to catch the trash so I could add it
to the bag we had made. Why is this okay??? They aren't even from
here, just passing through and polluting the river?! It made no sense,
but I hardly think they are alone. It seems just fine to toss anything
and everything onto the ground or into the river. It makes me think of
the anti-littering campaign signs in Texas: Don't Mess with Texas!
It's so beautiful here, the amount of trash on the ground is an
abomination.
More Questions
My mind wandered wildly on the boat ride: what are the titles of all
the books on the boat? What are you carrying in the giant bag (both
locals and tourists)? Why are you on this boat - business trip,
resupply mission, visiting family, traveling? If you want to pick up
the boat, how long do you have to wait by the river? Is the boat
actually on a regular schedule or do you just sit and wait and hope it
will pass and stop?
Luang Prabang
Eventually we got to Luang Prabang, eight hours later - just before
dusk. Not the best time to schlep bags all around town hunting a
guesthouse, but what are you going to do? We walked past the touts and
realized the map in our book is pretty worthless. They have multiple
streets marked with the same name, neither or which matches the street
signs on those streets! We walked in circles until we found an
acceptable house - a mere left instead of a right would have taken us
straight there. Isn't that always the case? I wondered how many other
opportunities or adventures had similarly eluded us by as small a
margin. We were happy to ditch our bags in our new room, carrying them
makes you a target for all sorts of offers. Have room? Need room? Nice
rooms here! Come look! I don't like ignoring them because it feels
rude, but after the tenth person has offered you a room you realize
that you could hardly progress forward if you replied to everyone and
replying only increases their determination. Robert wants to pretend
he only speaks spanish and has picked up the phrase, como?, but never
actually uses it, just walks determinedly on.
We are paying 80,000 Kip for our room, which is ten US. This new
currency is awfully confusing for me. After a month and a half in
Thailand, we knew what prices to expect. Here, it's a whole new ball
game. From what we have seen, most things in Laos are more expensive
than Thailand, maybe that is just in Luang Prabang. This is the first
city with fancy boutiques interspersed. The city was once controlled
by the French and it still has interesting old buildings from that
period, the fancy ones are restored, the ones we use are just old. :)
For dinner we got pizza - they had free wi-fi, which rules our
decisions these days. The pizza was actually pretty good, medium
crust, doughy and crisp on the outside. (still no Parlor though) Next
we roamed the nearby market, looking for the food market marked on our
map. We found two interminable aisles of handicrafts, but only two
baguette stands near the end. Lame! Where is the food??? We gave it
another pass and found the small, well-hidden food street. Besides
concealing a million grungy backpacker tourists stuffing their faces,
it had something new: buffets! Buy a plate, fill it up from various
dishes laying out, hand it to the cook, who dumps it into an electric
wok for reheating and viola. Dinner for a dollar. (10,000 Kip) We
augmented our thin ration of pizza with a second course from the
buffet, which was greasy, but acceptably tasty for a buck! And meat
was extra, so our questionable street food at least didn't have meat
diseases. The meat they were offering was grilled on the side and
didn't look bad, but it cost extra and we were close to topping out
our budget, so we abstained.
Home for sleeps.
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