Butterflies and Bombs

One of the first things I discovered about Laos was that it is pronounced Lao, the ‘s’ isn’t easy to ignore but it did help me stop itching my head every time I thought about where we were…

As we settled in to our guesthouse the sun started to go down, quite quickly, and by 6.30 it was properly dark…we wandered along by the river looking for something to eat – there was a lot of choice and a lot of tourists, we hadn’t seen any since we entered Russia so it was a little odd at first…hearing different languages we recognised spoken but not immediately feeling a kinship as a fellow traveller in uncommon waters. This was a well trodden path and it was new to us.

We settled on an Indian restaurant, run by a lovely South Indian man called Mussa, we ordered two thalis and a dosa…we really liked the restaurant and the food was so good, simple and delicious.

The next morning it was time to discover the town and I was up and out by 7.00 …there were people going about their day, opening shops, bringing baskets of food into town, the sun was hidden behind the clouds and there was mist on the tops of the mountains on the other side of the Mekong  river. I saw two stunningly beautiful temples painted a deep red and rich gold, ornate and bright, and my first butterflies, two large orange and white ones dancing around each other.

I went to get my family to show them the beauty of where we were, and have a look together over breakfast at what was unique and special about this place.

We found somewhere overlooking the river for breakfast and started our online search but Rosa’s heart was clearly not in it and after a while she told us she’d had enough. China had been what she was looking forward to, she knew being at her cousins in Thailand would be lovely and she was excited to go to Australia but she didn’t want to be in Laos, she wasn’t up for a ‘jungle paradise’ or ‘ancient ceremonies where monks walk barefoot before dawn’. She wanted her home and her cat…  listening to her I remembered how awful I could feel sometimes when I was travelling as a twenty year old and feeling inadequate – not able to enjoy paradise because I felt so small and rubbish – it’s different for her, she was feeling home sick, but I knew the feeling of not wanting to be in paradise and we listened whilst she let it out. We were a long time in that restaurant sharing some of the realities for all of us in this travelling experience…it’s definitely not a holiday, but the irony was that this place, Luang Prabang, was actually a holiday destination for nationalities across the world…and there really were wonderful things to explore here.

Rosa needed time more than anything else so Theo and I went out by ourselves that afternoon. We went to a small museum we’d read about as a ‘must see’ in two of the articles we’d seen. It was a museum dedicated to the effects of the ‘secret war’ on Laos, it felt like a good place to start, and Rosa had some precious time to herself.

The walk through town was both interesting and hot – we both love seeing the little details of a towns life so we didn’t walk fast and we arrived just before the museum was due to close. The courtyard entrance was full of large bomb casings, which was a really powerful visual. We thought we would have to come back but the woman working there was keen for us to come inside.

Shock slowly turned to tears as we read the truth of what had happened to Laos during the nine years of the Vietnam war.

During those nine years the US denied any military action in Laos, and more bombs were dropped on this little country than were dropped in the whole of the Second World War. That fact alone had my mind scrabbling for its footing, how could that be possible..,?

Laos has the distinction of being the most bombed country in the world per head of population. During that it ‘secret war’ the US military dropped 2 million tonnes of ordinance on Laos including an estimated 270 million cluster bombs – 80 million of which did not explode.

Cluster bombs are large bombs designed to explode in the air and spread the smaller ‘bombies’, as they are known locally, over a wide radius – some have as many as 4,000 small bombs inside and each of these has the capacity to blow up your house and your neighbours.

We read on, looking at the bombs and pictures of injuries to children. Once every two weeks someone dies or is horribly maimed because of one of these ‘bombies’ – so far @ 800,000  have been found -1% …leaving over 79,000,000 in the fields, roads, jungles and rivers of Laos.

We made a donation and walked home in silence. Laos was a different country to us now…

Where are the bomb disposal squads from all over the world fine tooth coming this country and giving its people their land back again? …giving it’s children a safe place to play where they don’t find what looks like a cricket ball and lose an arm, an eye or a family member when they play with it?…it was simple and clear what needs to happen, and yet it doesn’t…

We walked up the small mountain and watched the sunset that night – Theo went into the temple to mediate and Rosa and I listened to all the different languages whilst we watched the sky change colour.

We went back to our little restaurant, ordered our usual and we told Rosa that the museum was somewhere we would like to go back to as a family and left it at that. We wanted her to experience the museum on her own terms without our experience colouring hers.

We discussed what we would like to do the next day and settled on the ‘ethical eco elephant sanctuary’ – they had stopped offering elephant rides sometime ago and were using the money they made to bring elephants out of the logging industry and back to the forest, the elephants couldn’t be released into the wild as they wouldn’t know how to survive but they could have a better life.

We couldn’t afford any of the ‘hiking through the jungle’ packages but we had been given some money by a dear friend who had expressly said her money was to be spent on ‘unforgettable experiences’ – bathing elephants qualified as that and if we cycled the 20km out there we would have an experience of the jungle and save money…! Perfect…

My plan included getting up early because one of the other ‘must do’s’ in Luang Prabang was witnessing the centuries old alms giving that happened each morning throughout the town.

There are 34 temples in the town and each morning the monks that live in them get up before dawn and walk barefoot through the streets receiving the alms that the people of Luang Prabang give them. It is conducted in silence and there was a clear guide for tourists. We were welcome to watch but not to take part unless it meant something to us personally, not to get in the way or be obtrusive with any photos or filming. To sit lower than the monks as a mark of respect and not to make eye contact. The guidance also included a helpful tip that sitting in one of the side streets would make it less of a spectacle and more of an authentic experience.

That first morning we woke up at 5.30 and tea in hand (Theo not me) walked outside – there were four elderly people sat on stools with woven pots in their laps just outside our guesthouse. We sat back a little and waited.

It was both ordinary and extraordinary – the first group were some thirty shaven headed, orange robed barefoot men and boys walking in silence down the dark street – each with a large bowl on his hip. As they arrived at the first of our group the monk at the front deftly slid the lid off his pot and once the sticky rice had been deposited moved onto the next of our little line. It was quick, everyone knew what they were doing and each of our four alms givers had enough rice to give each of the five groups of monks that filed past over the forty-five minutes we were outside. They also knew when it had ended. Stools removed and a day begun….in exactly the same way for hundreds of years.

I think it was the everydayness of it that allowed something so unusual to be commonplace – everyone in our little street knew what they were doing. The giving of alms ensured the monks were not hungry and the receiving of alms bestowed upon the giver good karma. A perfect symbiosis…

It did touch me, some of the monks were as young as ten years old – what were the stories of each of the younger ones? Why is what I’m left with, why are they here and what is the day to day life of a monk?…that and the simple reverence in the barefoot silence of the early morning.

That first morning I managed all of the guidelines but I could feel myself wanting to look up a little, to have the chance of connection, and if they looked at me then I would smile softly – no big ‘watchya’ ‘thumbs up’ moments but something …I suspect the monks are meant to be meditating as they walk though and if they have a load of grinning ninnies like me staring at them it’s probably a bit distracting – I would need to think on it…

Time to wake Rosa so we could get breakfast. Our bikes were cheap to hire for the day and we set off early, we bought avocado and tofu sandwiches on the way (…and a sticky bun for Theo which he was not prepared to share with the elephants).

The road seemed to be on a permanent slight slope up, which was great for the first few kilometres but properly flipping irritating after an hour or so…it was hot, our bikes didn’t have gears and one of us was quite grumpy…

After 8 km or so I needed a wee so we stopped and as I walked into the jungle (secretly hoping I’d see a snake) yesterdays museum experience came back to me, somewhere in this bit of forest there was an unexplored bomb.

We got back on our bikes, cycled up hill for another three kilometres, walking the steeper bits, taking it in turns to moan the loudest, and then it was time to go down. That’s when Theo and I discovered that our brakes sounded like the angry screeching of several people running their nails across blackboards – it really was hideous, and a bit funny 🙂 We enjoyed a little of the more gentle down and miraculously arrived at the sanctuary ten minutes early.

Rosa saw them first. Five elephants in the gardens above us. We locked up our bikes and went up to the entrance where it turned out our fee including feeding the elephants bananas, and as I sit on a very hot train in Thailand writing this, a smile has just spread across my face. That trunk snaking it’s way towards me plucking the banana ever so delicately from my hand – popping it in it’s mighty mouth and back for more, as quick as…I could happily have spent days feeding those elephants – it was fascinating to be around such soft dexterity from such a large animal, it was really fun and it touched my heart. It was a privilege to be near these incredible creatures.

The elephant handlers were waiting for something so we were encouraged to go and see the baby elephant and  see the resort attached to the elephant sanctuary …the baby was quite big but she was on her own and had a chain on her foot. We watched dismayed and went back – it’s a delicate balance asking the questions that need to be asked and at the same time not assuming that what we are seeing is showing us a clear picture, something that should be stopped immediately! It’s not okay to say nothing but neither is it okay to assume we know what’s going on…I tried to remember to tread with quiet strength, but thoughtfully, a bit like the monks really…

The man we spoke to was sweet and clearly liked elephants – he told us she was on her own because she was being trained at the moment and she had a chain on because baby elephants are naughty. It wasn’t attached to anything but it did stop her breaking out of her enclosure and heading off into the forest… we still had questions but we had run out of common language, and I liked him…if I was staying in Laos longer I would have wanted to understand more about how and why they trained the elephants and whether she got to spend time with other elephants but for now trust would have to do…

We had been encouraged to go and sit by the resort pool to wait and I got in straight away…wherever there is water I get in! It’s the rule…but we were pretty quickly told that the pool was for guests of the resort and we would have to pay extra if we went in (glad I got in first 🙂

We headed back towards the elephants and they had gone down to the river…time to get elephant wet!

We had such a lovely half an hour, splashing, scrubbing and being soaked by elephants, each of the three mahouts clearly loved their elephant and we relaxed again. It was fun and wonderful and unforgettable – thank you so much to everyone who has supported us in coming away, for the gift of being able to say yes to this!!

After it was time for the elephants to leave the river, and we had watched them walk up the path like mini mountains, we went to sit in one of the beautiful decking areas on stilts – each with its own rush covered roof and a table and chairs. It was a beautiful spot to eat an avocado and tofu sandwich, overlooking the river with hundreds of butterflies fluttering and weaving their way through the jungle at the waters edge.

We stayed there for two hours watching river life and the dance of the butterflies…we saw the elephants cross the river, swimming the distance easily, and then disappear into the jungle.

It was time to leave this bit of paradise and we headed back to our bikes.

It was even hotter than when we had cycled here and Rosa had developed an interesting rash on her arm as we had sat by the river so we rigged up something with a wet scarf to cover her arms and set off on the 20 km ride home.

We got about 2 km before Theo’s peddle fell off. We stood there looking at it..:well that’s not great!’

There was something wrong with the thread and we couldn’t get it to screw back in again… we screwed it in as far as we could and tried cycling gently on it, which lasted about two hundred metres each time. We tried sticks, which broke instantly, and we contemplated hitting it really hard with a rock, but that might break the bike and this was the lovely rental man’s income…the sun was starting its journey behind the mountains and we needed to get going.

Time to learn a new skill! Cycling with one peddle…it is possible. If you twist your foot inwards and press on the top of the metal piece where the peddle should be, and then take your foot away quickly and press hard on the other peddle, you can move forward. It’s not easy, it doesn’t work going up hills, and when it goes wrong you wobble all over the road. None of us wanted to ride the 18 km back with a bike with one peddle and Rosa’s arms covered in a strange rash, but we didn’t really have any choice…so we got on with it.

Theo and I both had a go but for some reason it was slightly easier for me to keep the rhythm going so me and my new bike, I unimaginatively named ‘one peddle’ had a little talk…’get me home you little bastard’, I hissed at it between each awkward rotation, ‘and I won’t turn you into scrap metal and make yellow penknives out of you!!’

The walk up ‘screech hill’ (so named because of the noises our bikes made in the way down in case that wasn’t obvious…) was long and arduous, the sun was setting in earnest by now and whilst that meant it was cooler it also meant we needed to get on with it…we drank the last of our mango smoothie purchased and saved for this very moment at the resort cafe, and we were off! We covered that last eleven kilometres in less than 45 minutes – it really was mostly down hill and whenever a hill looked set to slow us down I’d whisper my threat in the bikes ear and we’d shoot onwards.

It was completely dark by the time we got into town and Rosa, the same Rosa who had been so ready to go home the day before …kept us going at the end, she has a cheerful streak that comes out every time we are in crisis mode. (I bet ‘one peddle’ wished she was riding it rather than me…)

We arrived back in triumph and with a final flourish of squeaking brakes we dropped them off…I gave mine a quick head nod for a job well done and we all went for a shower….I think we enjoyed our thalis and dosa the most  that night.

I got up by myself the next morning to witness the monks walk barefoot through the streets and an older woman approached me as I got through the front door of the guesthouse, she had a lovely smile and a flower in her hair…she gestured for me to sit on one of the stools  by the side of the road, she gave me a woven pot with rice in it and brought two baskets of sweet treats for me as well – she was helping  me take part, …and then she asked me for money.

I paid her what she asked and when the monks came I rather clumsily put the food in the bowls. It was not a spiritual experience  – it turns out getting the rice out of the pot and into the bowls quickly requires practice and I had a few feelings rattling around as well!  It was hard trying to eek the rice out when it ran low before the end of the line of monks. I felt embarrassment and annoyance that I hadn’t figured out what was going on and that what had felt like generosity was in fact someone earning a living …but I also felt admiration. Admiration for these women who had gotten up early, cooked rice, set up a seating area and made it possible for me to join in…they’d figured out a way to make sure both the monks and their families got food.

I had a great conversation with the woman sat near me after everyone left. Her name was Carmen and she had been through the same experience I had the day before and had gone and brought her own food to give. We talked about karma and some of the deeper issues in our lives. I really liked her. She was travelling alone for the first time in her life, a fiftieth birthday present to herself. She was a Buddhist from north Mexico and talking with her helped me decide what I wanted to do the next morning when the monks walked by.

That day we had finally determined would be our first ‘no screens day’ of the trip. I had wanted a day off for a few weeks but it’s hard to put the little wee beasties in the box, and we all had to agree!

After breakfast we went back to the little museum and looked at all the bombs and displays. There were photos of the key contributors to the work of making the land safe, America was not among them. We watched the videos about the kids whose bodies and lives had been torn apart by cluster bombs – made in part with money generated from the museum to show children in villages what can happen if you find one of these bombs. We also learned that the whole situation has been made worse by the availability of cheap metal detectors…the metal used on the larger bombs is worth a lot of money and many of the injuries and deaths in recent years have been caused by people trying to supplement their income with metal from bombs.

We bought lots of small things made out of recycled bombs gathered safely. The money spent going to remove more and we will not be forgetting the work done by that organisation and if you should want to contribute to their work this is a link: https://www.uxolao.org/donation-2/

Rosa wanted to paint the sunset that evening so we climbed the mountain again and I sat and thought about a song I want to write and Theo mediated again in the temple. People love to see a painting coming to life and some of the people watching the sunset loved watching Rosa…

We bought some organic coffee beans and little things for our cousins’ twins in Thailand and headed for our favourite restaurant.

The next day was our last so what to do? Nothing much was high up there but I’d met two lovely Thai women in the temple on the mountain and they’d shown me a short video clip of a spectacular waterfall that was quite close by…should we go there!?

Rosa got up with me the next morning and we sat and watched the monks walk down the road and receive their rice in silence. Today some of the monks had been given huge bags of sweets but the people who came out on our little corner had the same big pots of rice they had each day. I had new found respect for their ability to put the same amount in each pot after my experience the day before – it wasn’t possible to put my newly formed plan into place but I had one more morning left…

We set of for the waterfall at 11.00 reliving the 11km of ‘up’ but from the back of a tuk-tuk – it was fun riding in one of them for the first time and we eventually stopped in the yard of a massive temple …a giant golden Buddha graced the altar and the same spectacular ornate painting was in evidence inside and out…we sat in the quiet for a little while and then walked down to the waters edge. We were transported across by small motorised narrow boats.

We had wanted to go on the river but the waterfall was somewhere we could swim and here we were doing both, the boat ride was brief but gave me the chance to feel the river a little, and search the undergrowth for monitor lizards (the ones that grow up to five feet long!)

The waterfalls were low and smooth and very wide, we all commented on just how much water there was…it was spectacular and we were so tempted, the pools looked so inviting but we like a bit of adventure so we decided to go and look at all three waterfalls marked on the map first. We passed the last one and the trail disappeared into the jungle …did we dare?

After about 100 metres there was a sign in a tree pointing up and to the left…’waterfall 3 ~ 620m’ – we went for it but it felt a lot longer in the heat and humidity …and our uncertainty (why were we going away from the river and up to see a waterfall?) made it feel longer too…it was incredible to be walking through actual jungle though, even if there wasn’t a waterfall. There were so many ants and butterflies, tons of buzzing insects and there were some really big trees. No snakes or big lizards but the black and blue butterflies were stunning…

We started to go down after the up and we met someone who confirmed that a) there was a waterfall b) it was worth going to …and that we were the only other people he’d seen in two hours, we had the jungle to ourselves. Well, 8 million ants, a few thousand butterflies, plenty of stinging crawly things and us.

We all swam in the pool by waterfall 3 and it was heavenly – the water was cool and after our walk through the jungle. exactly what we needed – Rosa was a little unsure but our friends the mosquitos helped her in in the end….

After a great swim we went back to the main pools and swam again – they really were beautiful tropical pools… and then it was time to go back.

The tuk-tuk dropped us at the museum again because I was having a crisis – my plan was to give one of the twins a turtle and one an elephant, but what if they both liked elephants, or turtles – I needed to be prepared and although they don’t need to know the story of how they were made now I couldn’t think of something I’d rather give as a present.

On the way back through town I overheard a tourist saying – ‘he tried to rip me off but I was on to him!’ The detail of the story was being shared with a certain amount of swagger and laughter and it’s fair to say that my blood boiled a little, I only heard it once in Luang Prabang but it made me think about what the impact of tourism is here? I personally feel a responsibility coming from a country where nearly everyone can afford to go away on a holiday at some point in their lives. Do we in the western world acknowledge the inequality of that situation? That the cheapness of flights, hotels and food lies in part from the colonial theft of resources and labour from the countries we visit. I don’t know what to do about it but I can at least be thoughtful and respectful in my connection and enquiry with the local people. That doesn’t mean I won’t haggle – having inflated prices for those that can afford them makes sense to me somewhere – I like sliding scales when I am paying for things back home, but the locals need prices overall not to go up too much either, or for the things that are best quality only to be being sold for the tourist market – sometimes I wonder if a country would be better off if tourism didn’t exist, but overall I think it’s one of the very best ways of cultures mixing, and not a bad way to make a living …and it makes sense to me to share beautiful places, I like it that people come to Glastonbury, I like listening to the laughter of the people camping next to me in the New Forest, and I have seen the smiles on the faces of local people when I express my joy at the beauty of our natural world  – I don’t know what the answers are and I do know it’s a complex issue but I will keep facing it and thinking about my impact…

We said goodbye and thank you to Mussa that night for five days of wonderful food and we went back to pack. I was determined to get up with the monks one more time.

It was pouring with rain at 5.30 the next morning. Would the monks still come and could I go ahead with my plan?

I got down to the street and my gentleman and two of the three ladies were sat by the side of the road – this was clearly an all weather event…

One of the women selling rice came up to me and ‘operation karma’ swung into action. My plan was simple really. These women are making the rice and buying the sweets for the monks but not getting to give them themselves – So how about I pay the money but she sits and gives the food. She was likely to believe in karma in a much deeper way than I do and there was a chance she could dish out rice better than me too.

She understood what I was suggesting and was very pragmatic about the whole thing. My money bought a set amount of rice and sweets and she brought them over. She sat on the stool and started with the bars, she offered a little prayer before each bar went into the pot and as soon as the bars and the first lot of monks were gone she was back on the street looking to see if there were more tourists – she left the rice with me while she worked and when the next monks were approaching she offered it to me to give but I didn’t want too, I could already see she would be much better at it and it would mean more to her…

The rain poured through most of the morning and while the monks still had bare feet they also had umbrellas, orange umbrellas!…and the moment I will cherish from that early morning in Laos was watching the woman  close her eyes and lift the pot of rice to her forehead before the first monk got to her in the line, a moment of connection with something that mattered to her and the town she lived in.

We said goodbye to the lovely place that is Luang Prabang – finally we were on our way to stay with our cousins in Thailand, we had decided ‘as soon as possible’ was what our hearts were saying. It looked like that might mean a thirteen hour night bus journey once we got intoThailand, or travelling third class on two different trains in 33 degree heat, but that decision was for later, for now we were saying a heartfelt thanks to this jewel of a town with all that she has been through…

Goodbye Lao.