Stung Treng... Apparently not THE place to be here in Cambodia. Even the locals diss it and try feverishly to sell us tickets out of here. People seem to think we have ended up here against our wills or something. "There's nothing to see there. Buy a ticket to Phnom Penh. I can drive you to Ban Lung. When are you leaving? You should go to Seam Riep."
The Cambodia we've seen so far couldn't be more different from Laos. The people here are a lot more profit oriented and try to make extra cash at every turn. Hence the "stamp fees" at the border which S and I tried to refuse paying, which didn't turn out to be such a huge success. Our advice is: Just pay them or else, prepare for trouble. Oh, and hand the bribe money to them with care, otherwise they'll start whining and whimping. Besides bribing bargaining is apparently also customary, so we'll have to start practicing.
Just when our (read my) longing for Laos was starting to reach epic proportions, a girl at the seamstress we visited (to get Hanna's clothes fixed) invited us to visit her school, Eastern International School. Again we were reminded of how lucky we are in Finland to get free education, and to have everything handed to us on silver plates. The pupils paid for everything ranging from tuition fees to bicycle parking.Some kids went hungry as they had to pay for school and thus couldn't afford proper meals. Bribing the teacher was also common, just another way of getting ahead in life.
The English class we participated in consisted mostly of oral practice. Them talking to us. Us trying to interpret their questions and answering them. The class ended with e-mail swapping and a photo session. The Cambodians seem to be more like the Chinese in this regard. They looove taking pictures and looking at them. Even had to pose with the principal.
The teaching standard wasn't exactly splendid, but since they were taught conversational English I suppose the grammar was of less importance. It's always fun to spend time with your local peers!
Bye Bye Laos, hello Cambodia. We really should start learning some Khmer now.
//R
Showing posts with label Laos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Laos. Show all posts
Dec 12, 2010
Don Det - Day 63-68
...so we did go south. And ended up on Don Det, an island in the Mekong River (where the river is at it's widest). The Cambodian border is just across the river, so tomorrows border-crossing trip won't be too long. We've decided that five days in enough for us on this island. There is too much of Asia that is yet to be discovered in the time we have left for us to linger here any longer!
But what have we've been up to that's kept us so busy that we haven't blogged? Heh, well...nothing actually. We've been pretty 'busy' doing nothing but laying in a hammock, drinking fruit shakes and eating. In our defence it can be said that we actually have rented bikes a couple times and biked to the next island, Don Khong, where we found a lovely beach. The sand was so soft and you could cool yourself off in the river whenever you wanted, it's been very hot here. (And yes, we're aware that it's the same river as the one named in the previous post, thus the same water, but when we can't see the garbage that's in it then it can't hurt us, right?).
We found a cute gathering of bungalows just by the river for 30 000 a night (that's around one euro per person) and it's located near the restaurant street. Basically, it's perfect for us!
But still, when we get up in the morning we have to rest a while in the hammocks on the bungalow's porch before heading out to 'our' restaurant. They have hammocks there as well and you can lay on a mattress instead of sitting on a chair. We don't have to see the menu to know what we'll order. There are some dishes we tend to stick to, and of course the ever present fruit shakes!
The one BIG exception to this lay-low-lifestyle was yesterday. Early in the morning we booked us on a whole day kayaking trip. You know, because we've been so sporty lately that a half day trip just wasn't enough... So off we went, Hanna suffering from her side pain once again and all of us of sleep deprivation (Ruut because she sleeps in the middle in our double-bed, and therefore gets pushed around all night by Hanna and myself. We are very sorry about it! And Hanna and I because we stayed up late the day before hoping to Skype with some friends, but the internet cafes all closed before 1AM so that didn't happen). We always choose the best days for these physically challenging activities, don't we? But after realizing that the kayaking wouldn't kill our muscles we ended up quite enjoyed the trip. We saw the biggest waterfall (by volume) in South-East Asia, some Irrawaddy Dolphins and a beautiful sunset.
As said above, we'll be leaving tomorrow (though we still have to buy the tickets, pack our 'rinkkas' and so on, but leaving is the plan). Stung Treng, Ratanakiri, Cambodia, is our destination. Once again everything we've gotten accustomed to will change. But we hope it will be for the better!
//S
But what have we've been up to that's kept us so busy that we haven't blogged? Heh, well...nothing actually. We've been pretty 'busy' doing nothing but laying in a hammock, drinking fruit shakes and eating. In our defence it can be said that we actually have rented bikes a couple times and biked to the next island, Don Khong, where we found a lovely beach. The sand was so soft and you could cool yourself off in the river whenever you wanted, it's been very hot here. (And yes, we're aware that it's the same river as the one named in the previous post, thus the same water, but when we can't see the garbage that's in it then it can't hurt us, right?).
We found a cute gathering of bungalows just by the river for 30 000 a night (that's around one euro per person) and it's located near the restaurant street. Basically, it's perfect for us!
But still, when we get up in the morning we have to rest a while in the hammocks on the bungalow's porch before heading out to 'our' restaurant. They have hammocks there as well and you can lay on a mattress instead of sitting on a chair. We don't have to see the menu to know what we'll order. There are some dishes we tend to stick to, and of course the ever present fruit shakes!
The one BIG exception to this lay-low-lifestyle was yesterday. Early in the morning we booked us on a whole day kayaking trip. You know, because we've been so sporty lately that a half day trip just wasn't enough... So off we went, Hanna suffering from her side pain once again and all of us of sleep deprivation (Ruut because she sleeps in the middle in our double-bed, and therefore gets pushed around all night by Hanna and myself. We are very sorry about it! And Hanna and I because we stayed up late the day before hoping to Skype with some friends, but the internet cafes all closed before 1AM so that didn't happen). We always choose the best days for these physically challenging activities, don't we? But after realizing that the kayaking wouldn't kill our muscles we ended up quite enjoyed the trip. We saw the biggest waterfall (by volume) in South-East Asia, some Irrawaddy Dolphins and a beautiful sunset.
As said above, we'll be leaving tomorrow (though we still have to buy the tickets, pack our 'rinkkas' and so on, but leaving is the plan). Stung Treng, Ratanakiri, Cambodia, is our destination. Once again everything we've gotten accustomed to will change. But we hope it will be for the better!
//S
Dec 6, 2010
10 hour busrides and capitol cities
As Ruut wrote in a earlier post, we've got some sort of lucky star watching over us.
When we felt like leaving Luang Prabang, all we had to do was step out on the street outside our Guest House, and a tuk-tuk, with two falangs already in it, stops and tells us it's going to the southern bus station, so we jump on. Haven't you organized a tuk-tuk to pick you up? the driver asks surprised. Ehm, no? Haven't you got tickets for the bus yet? ask the falangs. No, but that wasn't a problem either, and we got good seats for the same VIP bus as the tuk-tuk falangs.
After talking nonstop with a poor Canadian guy for 10 hours (he asked Ruut and Sophia to change seats with me, more then once... but he was only joking, right?) we arrived in Vientiane in the dark. Walked around with a couple Australian guys till we found the cheapest ( and the shabbiest) hostel in town.
Spent the next day in Vientiane wandering around on the empty streets, thinking it didn't seem like a capitol city. The city was full of Finns though, and not being around Finns since the Trans Manchurian, it felt really weird to hear small kids shout out 'Aiti, mulla on pissahata!' all of a sudden. The highlight of Vientiane was definitely the high speed internet cafe - we were able to skype with one of our friends back home!
After spending less then 24 hours in the city, we jumped on a bus again, headed for the south of Laos.
Sleeper buses in Laos are very different from their equivalent in China. For one thing the beds were double beds, so Ruut slept next to a complete stranger. All buses we've been on so far in Laos (2, around Muang Sing they were only minivans or jeeps) are really luxurius as well, and we got some candy, water and dumplings on the bus. Best of all though: the buses have a toilet!
So at 6 am today, after another 10 hour busride, we arrived in Pakse. We're thinking: cute town, but a bit too hot and humid for it's own good. Gotta find some water to swim in. (Well, the Mekong is maybe a hundred meters from where I am now, and we live by another river, but swimming in a sewer tempts us about as much as jumping into them...) We'll see if we'll continue south tomorrow, otherwise we'll stay here one more day to post things and exchange money.
At the moment we're thinking about trying the Lao sauna (as is I don't already feel like I'm sitting in one, and it's almost seven pm...) since it's the Independence day of Finland today, and sauna sure is as Finnish as it gets. Happy birthday Suomi!
//H
When we felt like leaving Luang Prabang, all we had to do was step out on the street outside our Guest House, and a tuk-tuk, with two falangs already in it, stops and tells us it's going to the southern bus station, so we jump on. Haven't you organized a tuk-tuk to pick you up? the driver asks surprised. Ehm, no? Haven't you got tickets for the bus yet? ask the falangs. No, but that wasn't a problem either, and we got good seats for the same VIP bus as the tuk-tuk falangs.
After talking nonstop with a poor Canadian guy for 10 hours (he asked Ruut and Sophia to change seats with me, more then once... but he was only joking, right?) we arrived in Vientiane in the dark. Walked around with a couple Australian guys till we found the cheapest ( and the shabbiest) hostel in town.
Spent the next day in Vientiane wandering around on the empty streets, thinking it didn't seem like a capitol city. The city was full of Finns though, and not being around Finns since the Trans Manchurian, it felt really weird to hear small kids shout out 'Aiti, mulla on pissahata!' all of a sudden. The highlight of Vientiane was definitely the high speed internet cafe - we were able to skype with one of our friends back home!
After spending less then 24 hours in the city, we jumped on a bus again, headed for the south of Laos.
Sleeper buses in Laos are very different from their equivalent in China. For one thing the beds were double beds, so Ruut slept next to a complete stranger. All buses we've been on so far in Laos (2, around Muang Sing they were only minivans or jeeps) are really luxurius as well, and we got some candy, water and dumplings on the bus. Best of all though: the buses have a toilet!
So at 6 am today, after another 10 hour busride, we arrived in Pakse. We're thinking: cute town, but a bit too hot and humid for it's own good. Gotta find some water to swim in. (Well, the Mekong is maybe a hundred meters from where I am now, and we live by another river, but swimming in a sewer tempts us about as much as jumping into them...) We'll see if we'll continue south tomorrow, otherwise we'll stay here one more day to post things and exchange money.
At the moment we're thinking about trying the Lao sauna (as is I don't already feel like I'm sitting in one, and it's almost seven pm...) since it's the Independence day of Finland today, and sauna sure is as Finnish as it gets. Happy birthday Suomi!
//H
Dec 4, 2010
Speedboat - Day 55
Our day started with a bang, literally. Our first flat tire, and seemingly the driver's, as he didn't do anything about it...
This is where we ended up, in search for an ATM. Didn't find one.
Desperately counting our money and digging up all our 'cash stashes'
to be able to get away from Xien Kok.
Speedboat!! (Myanmar in the background)
The shore of Thailand.
It was all smiles during the drive.
Then it got cold in the wind.
Our lovely guest house, and the corner of our room from the outside.
Dec 3, 2010
Luang Prabang - Day 59
Just a quick hello from a tuorist-y, but cute Luang Prabang. Spent two days on the Mekong river, taking the slowboat from Huay Xai to here, where we arrived last night.
What can we say, the views were amazing, the sunshine was constant and the boat was uncomfortable and filled with falangs. (Yes, yes, we know it's spelled farang, but when in the land of no R's....) But when sitting on the edge of the boat, with the water splashing on our feet, wind blowing in our faces and the sun warm on our skin, oh, and let's not forget the views - dense, green jungle, empty, white, sand beaches, fishermen with spears and nets... we really had nothing complain about.
(Except for the pricy food in the town of Pak Beng, where we spent the night surrounded by Happy sellers. Cian, you know what we mean)
However, if we'd have to choose between slowboat and the 'ludicrously dangerous' speedboat.... I think we'd all choose the latter. Oh, the speed....
Okay, well of I am to buy more tourist junk with S and R, probably heading for the nightmarket. We're all quite tired of the tourist-ness, yes after only one day, and will probably try to head someplace else tomorrow, even though busconnections (and ATM's) are sparce... Might have to make a trip via the capitol, Vientiane, just to get somewhere no one's ever heard of, because that's where we want to go next.
//H
ps. It was the National Day of Laos yesterday. Today is apparently 'National Hangover Day', which is more widely noted than the National Day itself was... then again, we where on a boat. ds.
What can we say, the views were amazing, the sunshine was constant and the boat was uncomfortable and filled with falangs. (Yes, yes, we know it's spelled farang, but when in the land of no R's....) But when sitting on the edge of the boat, with the water splashing on our feet, wind blowing in our faces and the sun warm on our skin, oh, and let's not forget the views - dense, green jungle, empty, white, sand beaches, fishermen with spears and nets... we really had nothing complain about.
(Except for the pricy food in the town of Pak Beng, where we spent the night surrounded by Happy sellers. Cian, you know what we mean)
However, if we'd have to choose between slowboat and the 'ludicrously dangerous' speedboat.... I think we'd all choose the latter. Oh, the speed....
Okay, well of I am to buy more tourist junk with S and R, probably heading for the nightmarket. We're all quite tired of the tourist-ness, yes after only one day, and will probably try to head someplace else tomorrow, even though busconnections (and ATM's) are sparce... Might have to make a trip via the capitol, Vientiane, just to get somewhere no one's ever heard of, because that's where we want to go next.
//H
ps. It was the National Day of Laos yesterday. Today is apparently 'National Hangover Day', which is more widely noted than the National Day itself was... then again, we where on a boat. ds.
Nov 29, 2010
The Sceninc Day, Our Lucky Star, Visits to Thailand & Huay Xai - Day 55
Getting from A to B has generally not been a problem for us, and since we were longing to get out of tiny Muang Sing, Huay Xai sounded like a good option (hell, they've even got an ATM everything!).
When taking a bus (or rather, an ancient mininvan that seems to fall apart in every bend and bump) in Laos, one generally has to show up in time at the bus station (a big field where buses, people, cows, dogs and chicken idly wander about), at least 45 min before departure time. The reason being that even though you might have bought a ticket well in advance, it's first come first serve when it comes to the very limited number of seats that are to be shared by a very large number of people. The drivers often make small people sit on top of each other, so for once I'm happy we're giants...
The buses usually take their time in leaving the departure station since passengers forget stuff at home and make the bus drive around town looking for their friends, family and belongings. All the while we sit uncomfortably (we're only just short enough to fit into the seats) confined, usually sweating generously accompanied by strangely familiar popular music ala Lao.
There being only two buses a day to Muang Long (we had to catch the earlier one so we wouldn't get stuck somewhere), we took a gamble and arrived at the bus station a measly 10 min in advance hoping that three seats would somehow magically be found (we were busy packing and getting take-away tofu...). And what do you know; when we arrive it was half empty!
We happily hopped onboard and enjoyed the views, while the crowd of passengers grew thinner and thinner. At Muang Long (teeny town in the middle of nowhere) we were the only ones still on the bus. The driver kindly informed us that there wouldn't be a bus to Xieng Kok. He flashed a big smile and said he would drive us there for 50,000 kip per person. "Expensive!" we complained in our minds, but kindly agreed since staying the night or heading back were no options. Our cash preserve was alarmingly small, and as you alreday know ATMs are few and far apart in Laos.
The view from the bus window was stunning: clear rivers, lush, green hills, peculiarly shaped trees, clear blue skies and adorable little villages dotted about the valleys we passed. We couldn't quite believe we were there, smack in the middle of it all!
A few km before Xieng Kok we got a flat tyre. "Bummer!" I thought, expecting the driver to wreak havoc. Instead of stopping the vehicle and inspecting the damage, our driver didn't seem to mind/notice. He drove on in oblivion. Luckily we avoided further delays.
We were dropped off at a crossroad and somebody pointed the direction of the speedboat quay. The Mekong floated on serenely and Burma on the opposite shore looked enticingly green and wonderful. The border dudes (either lying in their hammocks or playing petanque in the shade) told us, there would only be boats to a random town upstream from where one had to take a taxi to Huay Xai. "Fine, how much then?" we asked casually. "1,5 million for all three.". "Say what?!" We certainly did not have that much cash on us, so we sat down and started devising plans for our survival. We had enough water for a day or so, and we could probably sleep next to the border control hut, maybe even hang our mosquito nets somewhere. Maybe we could sell our ipods or something...
So we sat there giggling nervously, counting our money which we pulled out from various emergency stashes. But it just wasn't enough to get us on the darn boat.
Suddenly two falangs appeared; a British couple who were fresh off from Thailand. They had taken a speed boat from a town opposite Huay Xai (on the Thai side of the Mekong), and they had paid considerably less than what was proposed to us. When realising that Xien Kok was not a place worth staying in (we didn't think so though. On the contrary, it was a sleepy little town blessed with an incredible setting. Just the way we like it!), they were in a hurry to get back to Huay Xai. They had more money than us (surprise) and generously offered to take the more expensive option, revealing us from a night under the stars. We were no longer in dire straits.
Except soon we would be. Quite literally.
The speed boat certainly lived up to its name. The exilirating ride took place in a small, thin rickety vessel with an enormously powerful engine in the back. We were provided with motorcycle helmets equipped with visors, to shield our faces with. Sitting in the front felt front you felt very much like cannon fodder.
The driver zipped skilfully, avoiding all the sandbars.
Again we were in awe of everything around us. So many secret beaches and swaying banana trees! What a nice smell of flowers!
We arrived at Huay Xai after dark, two visits to Thailand later, and thanking our lucky star we could just afford to pay for the tuktuk ride into town. There was even a new 24h ATM right next to our relatively affordable GH. "Now let's go explore the city!"
Huay Xai, you certainly didn't give a good first impression: Heaps of falangs acting stupid (being high, drunk and meddling in other illegal activities), expensive food (groceries at Finnish price levels...).
We're planning of spending as little time here as possible, either taking the boat to Luang Prabang (probably another backpacker ghetto) or just heading somewhere remote. Vang Vieng doesn't really sound so glorious, after overhearing some less attractive people loudly talking about tubing and getting messed up...
Lucky we don't really have any plans or high expectations. That makes it all the more exciting. We'll update from somwhere, sometime!
//R
When taking a bus (or rather, an ancient mininvan that seems to fall apart in every bend and bump) in Laos, one generally has to show up in time at the bus station (a big field where buses, people, cows, dogs and chicken idly wander about), at least 45 min before departure time. The reason being that even though you might have bought a ticket well in advance, it's first come first serve when it comes to the very limited number of seats that are to be shared by a very large number of people. The drivers often make small people sit on top of each other, so for once I'm happy we're giants...
The buses usually take their time in leaving the departure station since passengers forget stuff at home and make the bus drive around town looking for their friends, family and belongings. All the while we sit uncomfortably (we're only just short enough to fit into the seats) confined, usually sweating generously accompanied by strangely familiar popular music ala Lao.
There being only two buses a day to Muang Long (we had to catch the earlier one so we wouldn't get stuck somewhere), we took a gamble and arrived at the bus station a measly 10 min in advance hoping that three seats would somehow magically be found (we were busy packing and getting take-away tofu...). And what do you know; when we arrive it was half empty!
We happily hopped onboard and enjoyed the views, while the crowd of passengers grew thinner and thinner. At Muang Long (teeny town in the middle of nowhere) we were the only ones still on the bus. The driver kindly informed us that there wouldn't be a bus to Xieng Kok. He flashed a big smile and said he would drive us there for 50,000 kip per person. "Expensive!" we complained in our minds, but kindly agreed since staying the night or heading back were no options. Our cash preserve was alarmingly small, and as you alreday know ATMs are few and far apart in Laos.
The view from the bus window was stunning: clear rivers, lush, green hills, peculiarly shaped trees, clear blue skies and adorable little villages dotted about the valleys we passed. We couldn't quite believe we were there, smack in the middle of it all!
A few km before Xieng Kok we got a flat tyre. "Bummer!" I thought, expecting the driver to wreak havoc. Instead of stopping the vehicle and inspecting the damage, our driver didn't seem to mind/notice. He drove on in oblivion. Luckily we avoided further delays.
We were dropped off at a crossroad and somebody pointed the direction of the speedboat quay. The Mekong floated on serenely and Burma on the opposite shore looked enticingly green and wonderful. The border dudes (either lying in their hammocks or playing petanque in the shade) told us, there would only be boats to a random town upstream from where one had to take a taxi to Huay Xai. "Fine, how much then?" we asked casually. "1,5 million for all three.". "Say what?!" We certainly did not have that much cash on us, so we sat down and started devising plans for our survival. We had enough water for a day or so, and we could probably sleep next to the border control hut, maybe even hang our mosquito nets somewhere. Maybe we could sell our ipods or something...
So we sat there giggling nervously, counting our money which we pulled out from various emergency stashes. But it just wasn't enough to get us on the darn boat.
Suddenly two falangs appeared; a British couple who were fresh off from Thailand. They had taken a speed boat from a town opposite Huay Xai (on the Thai side of the Mekong), and they had paid considerably less than what was proposed to us. When realising that Xien Kok was not a place worth staying in (we didn't think so though. On the contrary, it was a sleepy little town blessed with an incredible setting. Just the way we like it!), they were in a hurry to get back to Huay Xai. They had more money than us (surprise) and generously offered to take the more expensive option, revealing us from a night under the stars. We were no longer in dire straits.
Except soon we would be. Quite literally.
The speed boat certainly lived up to its name. The exilirating ride took place in a small, thin rickety vessel with an enormously powerful engine in the back. We were provided with motorcycle helmets equipped with visors, to shield our faces with. Sitting in the front felt front you felt very much like cannon fodder.
The driver zipped skilfully, avoiding all the sandbars.
Again we were in awe of everything around us. So many secret beaches and swaying banana trees! What a nice smell of flowers!
We arrived at Huay Xai after dark, two visits to Thailand later, and thanking our lucky star we could just afford to pay for the tuktuk ride into town. There was even a new 24h ATM right next to our relatively affordable GH. "Now let's go explore the city!"
Huay Xai, you certainly didn't give a good first impression: Heaps of falangs acting stupid (being high, drunk and meddling in other illegal activities), expensive food (groceries at Finnish price levels...).
We're planning of spending as little time here as possible, either taking the boat to Luang Prabang (probably another backpacker ghetto) or just heading somewhere remote. Vang Vieng doesn't really sound so glorious, after overhearing some less attractive people loudly talking about tubing and getting messed up...
Lucky we don't really have any plans or high expectations. That makes it all the more exciting. We'll update from somwhere, sometime!
//R
Trekking - Day 53, Exhausted
After waking up, washing ourselves, brushing our teeth and saying goodbye to the family, we started walking again, first downhill then, surprisingly, uphill.
Although the last days trek was definitely the easiest, following a path all the time (the only one connecting the village with the rest of the world... Imagening them carrying there TV's and steel roofs along this path was... difficult) we were so tired from trekking already two days in a row, that we complained more then on the other days together, wondering how we'd ever make it out of the djungle alive. The fact that Keo had us nearly running the entire way, didn't help. Nor did the fact that we'd run out of water the day before, and only had som chai, from the village, to drink.
We where also more quiet than usal, which Keo noticed, since for once I wasn't constantly asking him or Sasu "Nimen yang, nimen yang?" (What is that, what is that?) pointing at everything around me, in my attempt to learn Lao. Keo was forced to take teaching me into his own hands, but all I can remember learning during the third day is 'gu', which means salt, for my thoughts were too occupied with thinking about the life of the villagers we'd just left.
However, Sophia, Ruut and I were not the only ones who weren't quite ourselves on the third day: Sasu had been drinking too much Laolao with the villagers the night before, and had a hangover. (Luckily we knew when to stop.... we wouldn't have survived the walk) This meant that he, instead of walking infront of us, as usual, lingered on far behind, singing at the top of his lungs and thus providing us constant background music.
Singing in Akha sounds more like animalistic cries, so after calling Sasu Obama for two days (they look rather similar, don't they?) we now started calling him Tarzan instead.
After walking up and down in the jungle, jumping over a stream running down the mountains, or a fallen tree, now and then, we suddenly entered an entirely different world: we where out of the NPA(nature protected area) again, slipping downwards in a tunnel, with walls and roof made out of sugar cane.
When we saw daylight again, ie. made it out of the fields, the scenery had changed drastically compared to the untouched forrest we'd seen for the last three days. Suddenly the trees were cut down to make way for fields, or if there were trees, they were planted rubber trees. Only 10 percent out of Laos forrests are natural forrests anymore, and that's why NP areas are so important, considering all the endangered species that inhabit them. We met a couple of pouchers when walking in the woods though, and heard several gunshots, so not even the NPA's are perfect.
Another thing that was extreemly weird, it wasn't just us, Keo and Sasu anymore. There were people everywhere, working on the hills and looking after their rubber trees. We had a totally newfound respect for these people, who walk up and down hills on a daily basis, when we nearly managed to do it for three days. When Keo told us we still had two hours to go, and we all felt like crying.
Somehow we made it, and by running down all the downhill parts, we were in yet another Akha village before realizing it, and a lot faster then the promised 'two hours'. This 'village' didn't feel like a village anymore though, after the village we'd slept in the past night. Nay, it felt like a city, at least. After getting into the jeep (Sitting! Air-conditioning! Heaven!) and driving to Muang Sing, we suddenly understood why Keo keeps calling it 'Muang Sing city'. Try metropolis. Asphalt! Some houses not made out of tree! Falangs everywhere! So few animals! Stores - we hadn't thought about money for days! Everybody's clothes seemed so clean and tidy as well, and everyone looked so wealthy. Was this really the same Muang Sing, the little countryside town with one main street, which quantity of dogs and chickens we had been so amazed by only days earlier?
We thanked Sasu by buying him two packets of cigarrets (nasty habit, but he became so happy) and Keo by buying him a soccer ball and socks, promising to meet him at the soccer field later.
After this we wandered back to the bungalow we came to call 'home', with our walking sticks and chopsticks made out of bambu proudly in our hands, talking about how nice the warm shower was going to be (that we'd been dreaming and talking about for days, now only minutes away) but promising not to forget anything we've experienced on the trek. I'll keep this walking stick and these chopsticks forever, I said. I can probably not even walk without the stick anymore!
Two days later, and I forgot my bambu walking stick in Muang Sing. I'm still holding onto the chopsticks though, and I intend to hold on to the memories of the thoughest trek of my life (so far) and the my memories of the villagers, however disturbing, even long after the chopsticks are gone.
Sadly, the camera's battery died, so no pictures what so ever from the last day. We're happy there are no pictures of us from the last day though, because we were a horrid sight, and we won't forget the amazing views anytime soon, so no harm done.
The rest of you just have to go do the trek yourselves, to truly understand what I'm rambling on about!
//H
Although the last days trek was definitely the easiest, following a path all the time (the only one connecting the village with the rest of the world... Imagening them carrying there TV's and steel roofs along this path was... difficult) we were so tired from trekking already two days in a row, that we complained more then on the other days together, wondering how we'd ever make it out of the djungle alive. The fact that Keo had us nearly running the entire way, didn't help. Nor did the fact that we'd run out of water the day before, and only had som chai, from the village, to drink.
We where also more quiet than usal, which Keo noticed, since for once I wasn't constantly asking him or Sasu "Nimen yang, nimen yang?" (What is that, what is that?) pointing at everything around me, in my attempt to learn Lao. Keo was forced to take teaching me into his own hands, but all I can remember learning during the third day is 'gu', which means salt, for my thoughts were too occupied with thinking about the life of the villagers we'd just left.
However, Sophia, Ruut and I were not the only ones who weren't quite ourselves on the third day: Sasu had been drinking too much Laolao with the villagers the night before, and had a hangover. (Luckily we knew when to stop.... we wouldn't have survived the walk) This meant that he, instead of walking infront of us, as usual, lingered on far behind, singing at the top of his lungs and thus providing us constant background music.
Singing in Akha sounds more like animalistic cries, so after calling Sasu Obama for two days (they look rather similar, don't they?) we now started calling him Tarzan instead.
After walking up and down in the jungle, jumping over a stream running down the mountains, or a fallen tree, now and then, we suddenly entered an entirely different world: we where out of the NPA(nature protected area) again, slipping downwards in a tunnel, with walls and roof made out of sugar cane.
When we saw daylight again, ie. made it out of the fields, the scenery had changed drastically compared to the untouched forrest we'd seen for the last three days. Suddenly the trees were cut down to make way for fields, or if there were trees, they were planted rubber trees. Only 10 percent out of Laos forrests are natural forrests anymore, and that's why NP areas are so important, considering all the endangered species that inhabit them. We met a couple of pouchers when walking in the woods though, and heard several gunshots, so not even the NPA's are perfect.
Another thing that was extreemly weird, it wasn't just us, Keo and Sasu anymore. There were people everywhere, working on the hills and looking after their rubber trees. We had a totally newfound respect for these people, who walk up and down hills on a daily basis, when we nearly managed to do it for three days. When Keo told us we still had two hours to go, and we all felt like crying.
Somehow we made it, and by running down all the downhill parts, we were in yet another Akha village before realizing it, and a lot faster then the promised 'two hours'. This 'village' didn't feel like a village anymore though, after the village we'd slept in the past night. Nay, it felt like a city, at least. After getting into the jeep (Sitting! Air-conditioning! Heaven!) and driving to Muang Sing, we suddenly understood why Keo keeps calling it 'Muang Sing city'. Try metropolis. Asphalt! Some houses not made out of tree! Falangs everywhere! So few animals! Stores - we hadn't thought about money for days! Everybody's clothes seemed so clean and tidy as well, and everyone looked so wealthy. Was this really the same Muang Sing, the little countryside town with one main street, which quantity of dogs and chickens we had been so amazed by only days earlier?
We thanked Sasu by buying him two packets of cigarrets (nasty habit, but he became so happy) and Keo by buying him a soccer ball and socks, promising to meet him at the soccer field later.
After this we wandered back to the bungalow we came to call 'home', with our walking sticks and chopsticks made out of bambu proudly in our hands, talking about how nice the warm shower was going to be (that we'd been dreaming and talking about for days, now only minutes away) but promising not to forget anything we've experienced on the trek. I'll keep this walking stick and these chopsticks forever, I said. I can probably not even walk without the stick anymore!
Two days later, and I forgot my bambu walking stick in Muang Sing. I'm still holding onto the chopsticks though, and I intend to hold on to the memories of the thoughest trek of my life (so far) and the my memories of the villagers, however disturbing, even long after the chopsticks are gone.
Sadly, the camera's battery died, so no pictures what so ever from the last day. We're happy there are no pictures of us from the last day though, because we were a horrid sight, and we won't forget the amazing views anytime soon, so no harm done.
The rest of you just have to go do the trek yourselves, to truly understand what I'm rambling on about!
//H
Leaving - Day 55
Hey, just a quick update to let you know that pictures and the post about the last day trekking will come up whenever we find a computer next time...
...at the moment we're trying to pack quickly (we've become pretty good at it...) and then we'll take our 'take-away' rice and tofu and head for the bus station... where to next, we're not quite sure.
Huay Xai is where we'd like to go, and we think we might get there by taking a 'bus' (usually a minivan or a jeep with way too many people in it...) to Muang Long, then a 'bus' from there to Xieng Kok, and then a speedboat from there to Huay Xai.... but these are just wild guesses, so we'll see where we end up!
//H
ps. we are even more 'locals' here then we thought, with people constantly telling us they've seen us here and there and we've just ignored them. Well, we didn't even know we knew you! Our everyday ruotine when it comes to walking to the morning market is also so well known that we no longer have to walk since people offer us rides. The other falang ask us what's up and what's happening in Muang Sing, since we seem to know. Is it noticeable that we don't really regard ourselves as falangs anymore, hehe? We're gonna miss Muang Sing and our friends here, but yes, definitely time to leave. ds.
...at the moment we're trying to pack quickly (we've become pretty good at it...) and then we'll take our 'take-away' rice and tofu and head for the bus station... where to next, we're not quite sure.
Huay Xai is where we'd like to go, and we think we might get there by taking a 'bus' (usually a minivan or a jeep with way too many people in it...) to Muang Long, then a 'bus' from there to Xieng Kok, and then a speedboat from there to Huay Xai.... but these are just wild guesses, so we'll see where we end up!
//H
ps. we are even more 'locals' here then we thought, with people constantly telling us they've seen us here and there and we've just ignored them. Well, we didn't even know we knew you! Our everyday ruotine when it comes to walking to the morning market is also so well known that we no longer have to walk since people offer us rides. The other falang ask us what's up and what's happening in Muang Sing, since we seem to know. Is it noticeable that we don't really regard ourselves as falangs anymore, hehe? We're gonna miss Muang Sing and our friends here, but yes, definitely time to leave. ds.
Nov 28, 2010
Yes, we're locals. - Day 54
....as said, pictures to the last post, and the last day of the trekking will come up tomorrow!
Today we've been too busy playing soccer with Muang Sing's soccer team, which consists of ca 20 guys aged 20-25 who practice daily. We have no idea why we agreed on playing with them, and we did get cold feet when reaching the field. After watching them play for a bit, however, we decided to join in, which meant most of them decided to watch us play. Well, all things considered I think we can be proud of our input and now we're headed out, once again, to party with Keo and his friends from the soccer team - it's our last night in Muang Sing!
Muang Sing has truly felt like a home, since we've never stayed this long in one place before (a week!) and we even 'returned' here twice: after the ATM trip to Luang Namtha and the trekking.
So we're proabbly gonna miss our days as 'locals' here, but it definitely is time to move on. All in tonight though, have to have a proper farewell!
We just hope we wont have to drink more Beerlao...
Today we've been too busy playing soccer with Muang Sing's soccer team, which consists of ca 20 guys aged 20-25 who practice daily. We have no idea why we agreed on playing with them, and we did get cold feet when reaching the field. After watching them play for a bit, however, we decided to join in, which meant most of them decided to watch us play. Well, all things considered I think we can be proud of our input and now we're headed out, once again, to party with Keo and his friends from the soccer team - it's our last night in Muang Sing!
Muang Sing has truly felt like a home, since we've never stayed this long in one place before (a week!) and we even 'returned' here twice: after the ATM trip to Luang Namtha and the trekking.
So we're proabbly gonna miss our days as 'locals' here, but it definitely is time to move on. All in tonight though, have to have a proper farewell!
We just hope we wont have to drink more Beerlao...
Trekking - Day 52, The Mentally challenging day
After eating breakfast (more rice, surprise) and packing, we were off once again. The sun was shining, although we could see that the valley, where Muang Sing lays, was still covered in clouds, as it is every morning.
After an hour or so we reached the highest hill in the region, about 1850 meters above sea level. When we started walking downhill the landscape suddenly changed, and instead of walking in low grass (with thorns, everything had thorns) and chilling with the buffaloes and cows, we entered the jungle for real. We walked for almost three hours downhill, and with our muscles aching we almost (but only almost) missed walking uphill.... Then finally we came to the long awaited 'river'. Turns out it had been a bit too hyped, and was not much more then a stream. Anything would do in our sweaty state, and with no one watching we chose not to obey the 'only bathing in a sarong' -rule, and jumped in to the cold stream in our bikinis. No matter how we scrubbed we didn't feel quite clean, and putting on the same (completely soaked with sweat) clothes we now had walked in for two days, felt horrible.
Keo promised we would arrive at the Akha village, where we were to spend the night, in half an hour, so we tried to make ourselves representable by tieing our sarongs as skirts. For the first time, Keo approved of our clothing, and asked us why we had been wearing pants before. Uh, d'uh, because they are a lot more comfortable. Who would ever go trekking in a skirt?! All Lao women, was his response.
Well, we know why we didn't see any Lao women trekking. Turns out the half an hour to the village was once again spent walking vertically uphill. I do not recomend this in a sarong.
Once again soaked with sweat, we arrived at the village. The first thing we saw was a tiny school building, Keo informed us that kids here go to school when they are 6, 7 and 8 years old, after that they are done with school. Suddenly we where surrounded by kids showing us thumbs up and shouting 'Sabai Dee'.
The village was not big, consisting of 21 houses and with about 130 inhabitants. If the animals would have been counted there would for sure have been a lot more then 130 inhabitants, since wherever you looked there were pigs, dogs, chickens, goats, cows etc. running around. And even when you didn't look, you heard them...
The village is not reached in any other way then by foot (takes about 5 hours to reach the nearest road), and the path leading to the village is extreemly steep and quite difficult. Last night by the fire we had felt like we where the only people in the world. Now we felt like we where in the most remote village in the world. The villagers were also extreemly poor, and we had some trouble not knowing how to behave. We could communicate with no one, since they all spoke Akha, so the Lao we'd learnt from Keo last night was of no use to us. We could only observe the on-goings in the village, how the inhabitants behaved towards each other and the animals, how the children played and what the houses looked like.
The Akha live in houses built several meters above ground level, standing on poles. Under the houses lived the animals. The floorboards were so sparse that you could easily swipe leftovers and dirt down to the animals below. The family we stayed with had a big house with a steel roof (a couple houses had this, while the poorest families had houses with hay roofs), a big 'living room' with a fireplace and even a TV, though it was badly outdated and dusty. In the evening the generator would go on and Keo told us that someone had turned on their TV.
We have a hard time processing what we think about the village. Since we don't know, we can only wonder what the villagers think about their situation, what the teenagers want out of their lives and most importantly if they are happy. From what we saw, violence was very common. The kids were very violent towards each other, most probably because they were treated the same way by their parents. Many times we saw parents and older siblings threaten younger ones with a beating if they didn't stop crying or complaining. The parents were not so involved in the raising of their children, the older kids took care of the younger. A five-year-old carrying his three-year-old sibling was not and uncommon sight, even though he wasn't that much bigger, physically I mean. But the ones that suffered most from the abusive villagers were the animals. Though they were able to walk around freely and behave as they should (compared to for example caged chickens in Finland) they still were the ones lowest in the hierarchy. A child could lift up a pup by its tail and wave it around, only to drop it on the ground and walk away. The adults hit the pigs on the head when they came looking for food where they shouldn't and kicked the dogs that came inside. The children, of course, picked up on this and behaved the same, just more violently and just for fun. Guinea pigs (attached by strings to prevent them from running away) were popular soccer balls, for example. The sounds of hurting animals didn't seem to bother them. It sure did bother us, and we always looked or walked away when someone was abusing an animal in front of us (often, it seemed, to impress us).
For most of the day both the animals and villagers seemed rather afraid of us, (except for the kids making faces and shouting sabai dee) and we felt like complete outkasts.
When washing ourselves in our sarongs in the stream together with the other women and when sitting and drinking home made Laolao with the village men at night, we felt some sort of 'acceptance'. And when waking up at 5 a clock in the morning when the family got up and started making breakfast (we slept on their 'living room' floor. The house consisted of two rooms, the other one being the families bedroom) we felt rather privileged to be able to be part of family life, in a village that seemed to be stuck on the Middle Ages. However, when we ate first, and the family then ate our leftovers, or when 6 girls at the age of 15-18 gave us (an unwanted an painful) massage (It was part of the price, and the girls got paid, so Keo would not let us decline, although the situation made us very uncomfortable - we wanted to talk with them!) we did not feel 'part' of the village in any way. We had to try and remind ourselves that we brought money to the village, and therefore sort of did a good deed, although it didn't feel like it. Many of the villagers were sick and asked for medicine, but all we had to offer was a couple of books in Lao (which they didn't understand, since they spoke Akha..) and my 'fascinating' bracelets from H&M, which I donated to the girls in the family. (They were six girls, the oldest being 14 and the youngest 2. Their father complained about wanting a son...)
//Sophia & Hanna
After an hour or so we reached the highest hill in the region, about 1850 meters above sea level. When we started walking downhill the landscape suddenly changed, and instead of walking in low grass (with thorns, everything had thorns) and chilling with the buffaloes and cows, we entered the jungle for real. We walked for almost three hours downhill, and with our muscles aching we almost (but only almost) missed walking uphill.... Then finally we came to the long awaited 'river'. Turns out it had been a bit too hyped, and was not much more then a stream. Anything would do in our sweaty state, and with no one watching we chose not to obey the 'only bathing in a sarong' -rule, and jumped in to the cold stream in our bikinis. No matter how we scrubbed we didn't feel quite clean, and putting on the same (completely soaked with sweat) clothes we now had walked in for two days, felt horrible.
Keo promised we would arrive at the Akha village, where we were to spend the night, in half an hour, so we tried to make ourselves representable by tieing our sarongs as skirts. For the first time, Keo approved of our clothing, and asked us why we had been wearing pants before. Uh, d'uh, because they are a lot more comfortable. Who would ever go trekking in a skirt?! All Lao women, was his response.
Once again soaked with sweat, we arrived at the village. The first thing we saw was a tiny school building, Keo informed us that kids here go to school when they are 6, 7 and 8 years old, after that they are done with school. Suddenly we where surrounded by kids showing us thumbs up and shouting 'Sabai Dee'.
The village is not reached in any other way then by foot (takes about 5 hours to reach the nearest road), and the path leading to the village is extreemly steep and quite difficult. Last night by the fire we had felt like we where the only people in the world. Now we felt like we where in the most remote village in the world. The villagers were also extreemly poor, and we had some trouble not knowing how to behave. We could communicate with no one, since they all spoke Akha, so the Lao we'd learnt from Keo last night was of no use to us. We could only observe the on-goings in the village, how the inhabitants behaved towards each other and the animals, how the children played and what the houses looked like.
The Akha live in houses built several meters above ground level, standing on poles. Under the houses lived the animals. The floorboards were so sparse that you could easily swipe leftovers and dirt down to the animals below. The family we stayed with had a big house with a steel roof (a couple houses had this, while the poorest families had houses with hay roofs), a big 'living room' with a fireplace and even a TV, though it was badly outdated and dusty. In the evening the generator would go on and Keo told us that someone had turned on their TV.
We have a hard time processing what we think about the village. Since we don't know, we can only wonder what the villagers think about their situation, what the teenagers want out of their lives and most importantly if they are happy. From what we saw, violence was very common. The kids were very violent towards each other, most probably because they were treated the same way by their parents. Many times we saw parents and older siblings threaten younger ones with a beating if they didn't stop crying or complaining. The parents were not so involved in the raising of their children, the older kids took care of the younger. A five-year-old carrying his three-year-old sibling was not and uncommon sight, even though he wasn't that much bigger, physically I mean. But the ones that suffered most from the abusive villagers were the animals. Though they were able to walk around freely and behave as they should (compared to for example caged chickens in Finland) they still were the ones lowest in the hierarchy. A child could lift up a pup by its tail and wave it around, only to drop it on the ground and walk away. The adults hit the pigs on the head when they came looking for food where they shouldn't and kicked the dogs that came inside. The children, of course, picked up on this and behaved the same, just more violently and just for fun. Guinea pigs (attached by strings to prevent them from running away) were popular soccer balls, for example. The sounds of hurting animals didn't seem to bother them. It sure did bother us, and we always looked or walked away when someone was abusing an animal in front of us (often, it seemed, to impress us).
For most of the day both the animals and villagers seemed rather afraid of us, (except for the kids making faces and shouting sabai dee) and we felt like complete outkasts.
When washing ourselves in our sarongs in the stream together with the other women and when sitting and drinking home made Laolao with the village men at night, we felt some sort of 'acceptance'. And when waking up at 5 a clock in the morning when the family got up and started making breakfast (we slept on their 'living room' floor. The house consisted of two rooms, the other one being the families bedroom) we felt rather privileged to be able to be part of family life, in a village that seemed to be stuck on the Middle Ages. However, when we ate first, and the family then ate our leftovers, or when 6 girls at the age of 15-18 gave us (an unwanted an painful) massage (It was part of the price, and the girls got paid, so Keo would not let us decline, although the situation made us very uncomfortable - we wanted to talk with them!) we did not feel 'part' of the village in any way. We had to try and remind ourselves that we brought money to the village, and therefore sort of did a good deed, although it didn't feel like it. Many of the villagers were sick and asked for medicine, but all we had to offer was a couple of books in Lao (which they didn't understand, since they spoke Akha..) and my 'fascinating' bracelets from H&M, which I donated to the girls in the family. (They were six girls, the oldest being 14 and the youngest 2. Their father complained about wanting a son...)
//Sophia & Hanna
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