Vang Vieng: Spring Break in a 3rd World Country

Between Luang Prabang and Vientiane lies the new backpacker Mecca of Vang Vieng. Why it developed into what it is today is no mystery. The scenery is beautiful. The calm Nam Song river runs alongside some stunning Karst peaks as they pass this once tiny village.

If Laos isn't technically a 3rd World country, feel free to substitute the word "developing" in the title of this entry.

I know that for anyone who hasn't been to Southeast Asia, this probably seems like a ridiculous stretch, but I challenge you to tube down the Nam Song with hundreds of other travelers, floating with a Beer Lao in hand while pop music blares from the speakers of volleyball court-equipped riverside bars and bodies catapult to the water from zip-lines above you. If not "Spring Break," I think you'd at least have to give me something akin to "Senior Trip."

With the amount of drugs and dreadlocks, you'd think a direct flight just opened from Amsterdam to Vang Vieng.

Trying to find a Laotian who isn't involved in tourist commerce in one way or another would be like trying to find Waldo in a sea of candy canes.

I can't say I didn't enjoy my time watching episodes of The Simpsons and Family Guy from the pillow-laden bamboo mats of cafes or the easy access to tubing and kayaking in the Great Outdoors. It's just that a more authentic version of Vang Vieng would have been nice... whatever that means.

Luang Prabang: Amazing Young Monks

Of Luang Prabang’s residents, it is generally said that everyone is either a) a tourist, b) a monk, or c) someone profiting off the tourists. Though I don’t think my 5 days in Laos’ most visited city qualifies me to assess the veracity of the claim, I can say that there all three classifications are there in spades.

The thing that impressed the most on me from my time in Luang Prabang was the ability and overt desire of young monks to speak English. On our second day in the city, Matt and I stumbled upon a swimming hole at the end of the peninsular Old City, where the Nam Khan river filters into the mighty Mekong. There were about 30 children, half of which were MITs (monks in training). Clad in their sleeveless robes of various shades of orange, they were wading, splashing each other, and doing back flips off of boulders in the middle of the water. While Matt stripped down to his skimpies and went to swim and spook the lads with his now Lawrence of Arabia-esque beard, I squatted next to a group of four of the bald heads and had an even-paced English conversation with the high schoolers. Amazed at their aptitudes for my native language, I asked how long they had been studying. I had assumed that English education must begin at an incredibly young age, like their parents played BBC cassette tapes over headphones to them while still in the womb. It turns out that they had only been studying for a couple years.

Why was their grasp of English, or at the very least their willingness to speak it, so much better than my students in Japan is a mystery to me. Japanese students now study English from elementary school onwards (mandatory as of this year) and are even sent to cram schools and English conversation companies to hone their abilities, yet often times are confused in class by questions as simple as “What’s your name?” Maybe monks should teach them, too.

China to Laos: A Vehicular Travel Experience

It’s hard to say where to start describing a three day international trip from southern China to northern Laos. When trying to convey the gravity of the trip appropriately to a fellow traveler in Luang Prabang, I found myself instinctually referring to it as “quite the vehicular travel experience.” I think the phrase ‘vehicular travel experience’ captures the essence of what we went through across the borders of these two communist countries.

I could go on about the 50+ hours in transit, how the number of vehicles we used reached double digits, or that the bumpy terrain under the guise of roads were in such a state that construction workers were digging out paths right in front of us. I'll excersise a bit of prudence and just talk about the disastrous wreck we witnessed on our way to the small Southern China town of Mengla.

On the curvy, narrow mountain roads of deep southern China, I’d be reluctant to drive a big car, let alone a truck or anything than needs space for wide turns. Well, someone thought it made sense to force through an 18-wheeler carrying something enormous bearing resemblance to a turbine engine. As anyone could have predicted, the truck’s back half fell off the road mid-turn, its metal rear bumper cutting through the pavement and rendering the vehicle immovable. It’s front end was stranded on the far side of the road, effectively blocking all passage. It was the kind of scene that you can only stare at drop-jawed in utter helplessness. Traffic stopped dead on both sides. A group of roughly 40 witnesses stood on a hillside overlooking the vanquished beast of a truck. The Chinese men were chain smoking. The Dai minority women dressed in flowing, colorful fabrics and traditional head-dresses sat helplessly on tree trunks. We were stopped for a good hour before someone had the idea of creating ramps beside the paved road on both sides of the front end of the truck. The ‘ramps’ were actually just stones angled to give a slope from ground to road and provide enough traction to maneuver around the wreck. Cars could go one at a time off the road on one side and back on at the other side with the help of this device and the direction of the dozen self-anointed traffic cops.

The whole ridiculous process reminded of me of a textbook schematic on facilitated diffusion. I won't bother extrapolating, as my street cred is bound to take a hit at even the mention of cell transport mechanisms on my webpage. Instead, I'll just post this ambiguous graphic on the web and leave it up to you to find some correlation to the wreck.

China pics: 3 of 3

Ok, last one. Click it.

China pics: 2 of 3

Click here to see them!

China pictures: 1 of 3

Here's a batch of some random photos from China. Enjoy.

Tackling Tiger Leaping Gorge

You can't go to Southwest China without hearing about Tiger Leaping Gorge. The 2-3 day trek through its canyons and mountainside has become sort of a rite of passage amongst backpackers to the region. Deservedly so. The centerpiece of the Gorge is the mighty Yangzi River. Its emerald green waters course through the twists and turns of the canyon formed by two chains of snow-capped mountains, Haba Xueshan to its west and the jagged, steep Yuelong Xueshan to its East. The mountainside trail carving through the towering peaks of Haba Xueshan - complete with steep ascents and even steeper drop-offs - make for some of the most truly humbling vistas that I’ve ever encountered.

I think the most remarkable part of the Tiger Leaping Gorge trek has to be the variety of milieu. We went through bamboo thickets and wove in and out of passages through the middle of cliff faces. Red guide arrows led us past villages resting in seas of stacked rice terraces hugging the mountains. We saw countless roosters, chickens, oxen, horses, wild boar, and bulls. The next day would see us crossing waterfalls hundreds of meters high and overtaking flocks of goats and their Shepards on the same trail. We found large boulders to rest on, each offering their own views of the peaks and the canyon below. The beauty of Tiger Leaping Gorge is so thick and vast that you can’t help but think that you’re only staring at an elaborate oil painting on the largest canvas imaginable. It’s that intangible. It was simply surreal.

And Matt got spanked (not figuratively) by a middle-aged Naxi woman who became increasingly insulted at his refusal to pay her 8 yuan fee for having 'cleared' the most dramatic viewpoint of the gorge. It was absolutely hilarious. That was maybe our greatest moment of cultural exchange on the trip thus far.

Publie Facilifies: The Wonders of Chinese English

English translations are always amusing in Asian countries. Menus and signs are the instant classics in China. On a rainy day in Guilin, one sign in particular lent me endless amounts of entertainment. Below is the posted English translation of the rules for visiting Elephant Park, a famous tourist attraction where a cliff jutting into the Li River bears resemblance to the trunk of an elephant drinking water. It starts off with a series of spelling and grammatical errors and then belligerently crescendos into the jumble of letters and made up words that make up rule #8. See how many errors you can pick out from just this one sign.

Enirance Regulation

1. Tourists must buy tickets for entrance and have if checked before entering into the park the tickets should be kept in good shake for checking after entering the park.the ticket will be invalid in case that the coupon be torn off by oneself.
2. The tourists with check bill should change it for souvenir Ticket at the Booking office.
3. Guide(incl local guidecnd guide in full charge in full line)must present valid certificate before entering the park free of charge.
4. The children under 140cm in height can enjoy free charge for addmnission of the park.
5. The children without company of their guardian are not permitted admission into the park. Any swimming in dangerous water territory is prohibited
6. The park isno-smoking place.please observe thisregulation.thank you for cooperation.
7. Gun and bullet.explosive and flammable articles are strictly prohibited taking.
8. Barbecue is forbidden in the park.lay stress on sanitation and maralify.Taking care of publie facilifies and installaticns in the park.keeping off flowers and turf.taking care of tour ist safety.

Bonus points if anyone can give me a definition of ‘maralify’.