An Art Therapist Abroad

Photos: Angkor Whaaat?!

caraadelle — Mon, 24 Feb 2014 18:17:00 GMT

Been There, Don Det

caraadelle — Sat, 25 Jan 2014 01:11:00 GMT

Traveling from Champasak to Don Det was so pleasant it almost made up for the Pakse to Champasak debacle. ...Almost. Much of it was by boat which was fine by me,

and rest was on a nice bus surrounded by beautiful scenery. (I had another fortuitous moment where I happened to look up as we drove past a tall hill were a giant golden Buddha was seated.) The whole of my morning went boat, bus, boat, and the final boat was greeted on the shores of Don Det by a sunbather, frolicking local children, and a cow.

Welcome to the Four-Thousand Islands (Si Phan Don).

As it turned out, the sunbather was none other than Jeremy who I met in Vietnam! We chatted for a bit, catching up, and as he was leaving the next day we decided to maybe try and meet up later in southern Thailand. After finding and checking into a room I quickly put on a swimsuit and headed to the "beach" (think finely milled dirt-like sand gently lapped by the waves of the lovely, mud colored Mekong) to take advantage of the few remaining hours of sunlight.

Earlier, as I had walked along the main strip of the sunrise side of the island,

I had noticed a few Indian restaurants that looked pretty legit so I decided to check one out for dinner. It was a tiny spot owned and run by an Indian family. I had been sitting at a table for a less than a minute when a group of guys asked me if I would like to join them. The most outgoing of the group was Manny, a Brit of Indian decent who had been living on Don Det for nearly three years, working at a bar on the sunset side of the island. With him were several Israelis (I couldn't believe the number of people from Israel I met on the islands!) and later we were also joined by a group from the Netherlands. Dinner was done family style with Manny custom ordering everything from the restaurant owner. While waiting for the meal we all shared some beers, and, as is the custom on Don Det, spliffs were passed around. You know what they say, when in Rome... (Although I passed on the also customary happy mushroom pizzas and such that are available literally everywhere.) After a meal that would have been amazing even without herbal enhancement, the group headed to a bar where shots of locally made whisky flowed freely out of a repurposed, enormous, Smirnoff bottle. At this point I decided to call it a night, but not before Manny had invited me to come to his bar the next morning to assist in baking some cookies AND to attend the weekly, traditional English Sunday roast in the evening at the only place on the island where it was offered. How much friendlier and more welcoming can you get?

In the morning I moved out of my room and into a riverside bungalow for a more atmospheric, and cheaper, experience of island life.

(Not to mention a great view.)

After a quick lounge in a hammock I headed over to the sunset side to find Manny et al. (a little citation humor there) and maybe bake some cookies. On the way I stopped at a tiny cafe, which I think might have had the only espresso machine on the island, and met a really interesting group of older guy solo travelers. As I worked my way down the street, surrounded on one side by the Mekong and the other by bungalow porches filled with travelers seemingly bound to their hammocks, marijuana constantly perfumed the air. Again, welcome to the Four-Thousand Islands. When I arrived at Manny's bar, he, surprise-surprise, hadn't even started thinking about making cookies. Mmmhmmm. So I headed back to my side of the island and spent the day on the "beach" reading "First They Killed My Father" by Luong Ung in order to educate and prepare myself for traveling in Cambodia. (It's a memoir detailing Ung's experiences growing up before and during the Khmer Rouge rule of Cambodia. She was 5 years old when they seized control of the country and evacuated her home city of Phnom Penh. She recounts the horrors of living in the work camps and later her training as a child soldier, as her family was picked apart piece by piece. There are many other memoirs that have been written by survivors of this period in Cambodia which are more graphic, so I feel "First They Killed My Father" is a good introduction, and I highly recommend it.) Then I took a long walk along the island

(cow and house...)

(cow and....boat...?)

and on my way back I felt a strange pull to head down a small dirt side road that looked as if it might cut across to the sunset side. I hadn't walked for two minutes when I saw Manny and crew strolling towards me on their way to Sunday roast! It seems one of the lessons the universe is trying to teach me on this trip is to trust my intuition more. After Sunday roast (where the Yorkshire pudding was absent and is still something I need to try) I walked with the group back to the main stretch of town and sat down at what, I'm not gonna lie, became one of my favorite spots on Don Det: a bar with a floor made of couches that specialized in deserts, specifically ice cream sundays, and constantly played movies. People wonder how some westerners end up living happily on such a tiny island for decades ... Copious amounts of weed + ice cream + movies = that's how.

The next morning I woke up early and rented a bicycle for the day. I rode all over Don Det and then crossed the bridge to the neighboring island of Don Khon to see the Li Phi waterfalls, or Tat Somphamit, and the nearby beach.

On the way I passed remnants of the old French railroad, which was never completed due to the adverse conditions of trying trying to build a trans-Mekong railway in the late 1890s.

The waterfalls were pretty impressive - not spectacularly tall but vast and abounding,

and the landscape was otherworldly. It had been a long time since I had seen anywhere so flat and barren.

After walking along the cliff edge abutting the falls and river I found the beach, which, despite still being on the Mekong, was pretty nice.

It reminded me of hanging out by the James river in Richmond, Virginia during college. After laying around for a bit I jumped back on my bike and returned to Don Det, taking the long way around and stopping at a bar to watch the sunset on that side of the island.

Obviously, I ended up back at the movie bar for dinner.

In the morning it was time to plan my next stop and make some travel arrangements. This was a big one: it was time for Cambodia! I took a boat to the mainland in order to visit an ATM and back on Don Det I bought a bus ticket all the way to Siem Reap - land of Angkor Wat. My last day on the island was spent laying in hammocks and on the beach, an ode to the lifestyle there, and finishing "First They Killed My Father." After dinner NOT at the movie place, I headed to bed to prepared myself for a very full day of travel in the morning.

(Departing sunrise on the sunrise side.)

Photos: Been There, Don Det

caraadelle — Fri, 24 Jan 2014 00:43:00 GMT

We're Gonna Need a Better Bus

caraadelle — Sun, 19 Jan 2014 22:47:00 GMT

When I got to the Thakhek bus station, I expected to only be able to make it as far south as Shavannakhet since it was already the early afternoon. It turned out I was in time for the last local bus all the way to the big city of Pakse only one hour north of my goal destination of Champasak. Even if I couldn't make it all the way to Champasak that day I figured I might as well get as close as possible, so I decided to wait the two hours for the bus to Pakse (much of which was spent chatting with locals who were stunned that I had traveled to Thakhek alone). When the bus arrived I knew this was going to be a good trip. The seats were metal frames with plastic covered foam cushions resting on top (not attached), the floor was rusting through, and the roof was precariously held up with several 2"x 4"s which one of the staff made sure were secure by rattling them and then banging them back into place with a big stick. On the gravely, potholed roads of Laos I was fairly sure this vehicle was only a trip or two away from shaking itself to pieces. And, of course, it was packed to the gills with people, animals, building supplies, etc. Sweet. Let's do this. I knew I would be arriving in Pakse fairly late as the ride would allegedly take six to seven hours. I interpreted this as meaning closer to eight, so I prepared myself to arrive in Pakse around midnight. Little did I know just how late it would really be.

As we rode, six hours passed, then seven, eight, nine .... I should have realized something was up when we got to Shavannakhet around the time we were scheduled to arrive in Pakse. At some point I decided to just curl up and sleep, hoping the ride would end up taking so long that I wouldn't have to try and find a place to stay in Pakse in the middle of the night. Buuut that's exactly what happened. For reasons unbeknownst to me, it took us 11 hours to get to Pakse, which meant I arrived at 3am. (On the plus side during the ride I did happen to look up and see what I'm sure must be the biggest palm tree in the whole world. Gotta cling to those minuscule silver linings...) 3am is NOT a good time of night/morning to find a guesthouse. The tuk-tuk drivers tried to help but the only place open was immensely over priced, so I had to spend $12 for a basic room that did have a T.V. but no hot water or Wi-Fi. This might sound cheap compared to lodging in the U.S. but trust me, for Laos, it's not. (I usually don't spend more than $7 for better digs, and if it's a hostel dorm we're talkin' $5 often including internet AND breakfast. But I digress.) By the time I fell into bed it was nearly 5am.

The next day I got everything I could for my 100,000 Kip and lay in bed until noon watching movies on HBO. Whatever, I paid for that stupid room and it's TV. I got up and set out to find the one cafe in Pakse recommend in Lonely Planet for some western coffee and internet. After getting some advice from the really nice and helpful manager there, I tuk-tuked to the local "bus" station/marketplace, which ended up being the coolest thing I saw in Pakse!

(While the city does have an impressive collection of temples, the only other thing to see there is a modern, Western style shopping center, which I passed on.) The market was clearly where the city locals do their shopping, and I loved weaving through the crowd, past tarps covered in fresh vegetables, dried mushrooms and spices; buckets filled with wriggling catfish and prawns; and tables piled high with slabs of meat over which the proprietors slowly waved fans to keep the flies away. I saw everything from fresh cow tongue to several mystery sea creatures. Obviously I had to try some of the street food which I brought back to my "bus" - a slightly larger than average tuk-tuk -filled with four older Laos women, one younger boy, and some watermelons. While we waited for our ride to leave, one of the women payed a girl for a manicure and pedicure ... which was done inside the tuk-tuk. Ah, now this felt like a truly authentic Laos experience: markets, local "buses", street food, and tuk-tuk beauty salons.

The ride from Pakse to Champasak took less than an hour and was so pleasant I didn't even notice we'd arrived until I looked up to see the friendly, round, smiling face of a Laos man standing next to the tuk-tuk. He owned a guesthouse down the road and offered me a ride there. I climbed into his minivan to see several other westerners headed to the same place. They ended up being Jolien, from Belgium, Chloe and Tayne, from Australia, and Rosemary, an older woman also from Australia. As it was too late to see the main attraction of Champasak, the ancient Khmer temple of Wat Phu, the five of us decided to just hang out at the guesthouse, sitting by the Mekong, sharing some beers and dinner.

Jolien had also come to Champasak to meet Yves, a French man who was renovating an old puppet theatre in the town. Until 1945, the town of Champasak was the capital of an independent Laos state and where most of the royalty of that state lived. Some of the royalty's grand homes still stand along the main road, and the theatre is one of the remnants of their presence. Yves came to meet Jolien and ended up sitting with us and talking about his project, which also includes turning the theatre into a cinema that will show classic silent movies where local musicians will play the scores live.

The next day Rose, Chloe, Tayne, Jolien and I rented bicycles to go see Wat Phu. Before leaving we met Mark and Claire, an unbelievable couple from the UK who are currently in their third year of a four year round-the-world trip by BICYCLE. Yeah. They blew me away and of course they had some amazing stories. We all road to the Wat together through the picturesque town

and bought some amazing sticky rice sweetened with coconut milk wrapped in banana leaves from two women on the roadside.

Although the original temple was built in the 5th century, predating the oldest of the illustrious Siem Reap wats in Cambodia by over four hundred years, the remnants that remain are much younger - from the 11th century or so. No biggie.

(Entrance path.)

(Carving detail.)

The wat is located on the base of mount Phu Kao (although it was still quite a climb getting to the main temple)

where there is a natural spring.

The water was originally redirected to constantly bathe the temple's linga, but now visitors can feel free to rinse their sweaty hands and faces with it. Which we did.

Wat Phu has been designated as an official World Heritage Site and is currently being renovated according to UNESCO standards.

Plus we met these guys and their doggy friend who were on an overnight biking trip to Champasak from Bangkok.

Overall, it was amazeballs.

After riding back to town the group decided to move all to the same guesthouse where Mark and Claire were staying. (Oh, I almost forgot to mention - there were rats in bed with me the previous night in the room I was sharing with Jolien. Funny how it doesn't seem to be as huge of a deal the second time around. But that was part of why we all decided to change locations.) There weren't enough beds in the new spot so Rosemary and Jolien let me sleep on the floor for free which was really sweet of them. Hooray for yoga mats, travel sheets, and inflatable pillows! Before settling in we all went for dinner at a place along the water and the now expanded group shared another lovely evening together.

(Photo courtesy of Chloe.)

In the morning, everyone except Jolien decided to hit the road. Mark, Claire, Tayne, Chloe, and Rose were all headed north but to different areas, and I headed south to Don Det - one of the Four-Thousand Islands in the Mekong river.

Photos: We're Gonna Need a Better Bus

caraadelle — Sun, 19 Jan 2014 22:43:00 GMT

Dance Your Cares Away Down at Thakhek Rock

caraadelle — Wed, 15 Jan 2014 21:49:00 GMT

One of the only problems with visiting places slightly off the beaten trail is that they're generally easier to get to than to get away from. I got up for the 7am bus out of Ban Nahin - the ONLY bus out of Ban Nahin -which goes to Vientiane. Noi, my guesthouse owner, asked for the driver to stop in the small town of Viengkham, which is just outside Nahin but located along the main road instead of in the middle of beautiful nowhere. From Viengkham I was instructed to cross the street and flag down any bus going the opposite direction (south) to Shavannakhet, which I was told run hourly. Luckily I wasn't the only one doing this, so I didn't have to stand alone at the random gas station where we were dropped. After getting a southbound bus to stop, which involved lots of running and frantic waving, I let the driver know I only needed to go as far as Thakhek and settled in for the ride.

From the Thakhek bus station I grabbed a tuk-tuk to the center of town. I couldn't believe it - the sun was shining, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and I was WARM for the first time since Cat Ba, Vietnam. At that point I couldn't have cared less about finding accommodation and instead found a cafe and just sat outside in the sun for several hours. In shorts!

Eventually I got up and found a place to stay before heading out for a walk along the Mekong. Like many places in Laos, the Mekong is the only thing that physically separates Laos from Thailand, but looking across the water it was apparent that many other things distinguish one country from the other.

(Yup, that's Thailand!)

After my stroll I walked back to the main street and found a nice local spot for dinner.

At this point, let me explain why I chose to stop in Thakhek, a relatively un-touristy place which most people just pause in to see a few caves or rent motorbikes to do the well known 450 km (280 mile) "Loop" of the area. The other, less common reason travelers visit Thakhek, is to climb the stunning limestone crags that blanket the province.

Mariana, who I met in Hue, Vietnam and traveled with through Hanoi, was spending several weeks in Thakhek doing just that. It was my hope that she and I could meet up for some climbing and celebrate New Year's Eve together. We had been in contact but so far I hadn't heard from her since I arrived that morning, which I knew was because she had undoubtedly been dangling from a rock somewhere all day.

After my meal, for some reason, I felt inclined to walk back past the river, in the opposite direction of my guesthouse. I wasn't sure why but I decided just to go with it. As I walked I passed a big group of people having dinner, and who should I spy sitting among them but Mariana! After a joyful reunion and introductions to some of her new climbing buddies, it was decided that I would meet up with everyone for climbing the next day - the last day of the year. The moral of the story is: follow your intuition, even if it doesn't make sense.

In the morning, Mari and her friend Lucas, also from Brazil, met me after breakfast to rent motorbikes for the ride out to the climbing area. The ride was stunning and as a passenger I got to marvel the entire way.

Once we got out to the climbers' area and met up with Javier, from Mexico, I borrowed shoes and a harness and we set out to climb.

Throughout the day I did a bit more watching than climbing, although I did finish one route no one expected (including me!) up to the tippy top of that red rope,

but that was fine as the people I was with were pretty hardcore and amazing to watch.

(Sideways and kind of a where's Waldo but you get it.)

Plus I had a birthday card to make for a friend back home which I've decided to count as artwork since I've been failing massively at creating anything on this trip. (Shocking.)

Towards the end of the day a few people in the group had a small accident but thankfully no one was seriously hurt. Still, we decided to call it a day and headed back to the climbers' spot for some beers.

Then it was time for the New Year's festivities to begin! We rode back to town and pre-gamed a bit before heading out for dinner and drinks. As the evening dwindled and midnight approached, local parties began to spring up around us in front of homes and business, so we left the restaurant and joined in! American and Laos pop music blasted from speakers while beer flowed all around and glowing embers were tossed back and forth between the bravest (or most foolish) partiers.

We danced the rest of 2013 away and as the year ended cries of, "To the Mekong!" filled the air. We raced to the river shore and with firework displays sent off from Thailand in the background everyone embraced for a big group hug.

The members of the group from Austria introduced the rest of us to an interesting New Year's tradition of melting small lumps of tin over a fire and then casting the liquid metal into water to form abstract shapes that predict your future for the next year. Most of the interpretations were pretty humorous.

The next morning I decided to hit the road again, although I was very tempted to stay and climb for a few more days. Mariana and I said goodbye again (though hopefully not for the last time) and I went to the bus station to see how far south I could get that day, with Champasak as my ideal destination.

Photos: Dance Your Cares Away Down at Thakhek Rock

caraadelle — Wed, 15 Jan 2014 21:31:00 GMT

Bright Wats, Small City (That's Where I Gotta Go)

caraadelle — Tue, 14 Jan 2014 04:26:00 GMT

The bus ride to Vientiane was relatively uneventful and from the bus station I took a shared tuk-tuk straight to my hostel - a pretty cool place with graffiti art covered walls and a huge padded movie room on the first floor. (Complete with the sign: No Boom Boom in the TV Room. Alrighty then.) Immediately upon settling into my new temporary digs I met Nandini, who was originally from India but living in Berlin. We decided to team up for a bit and headed out for some dinner near the city center, which was pretty close to the hostel, checking out the plethora of coffee shops on the way. Ahhh the perks of city life. Afterwards we called it a night in order to get an early start sightseeing the next morning.

Nandini and I started the day with complimentary breakfast at the hostel, then set out to see as many sights as we could. Like many cities in Laos, Vientiane is covered with temples, or wats, like this one just around the corner from the hostel,

but being the capital it's home to some of the country's most famous. It was wonderful to visit these places with Nandini as she was raised primarily Hindu and was able to compare these Laos Buddhist temples to the the Indian Hindu temples she grew up with. Aesthetically, the similarities surprised her a great deal. Our first stop was Wat Si Sisaket, the most impressive feature of which was the collection of over two thousand Buddha statues cloistered inside the walls that surround the main temple

(which was also beautiful).

Although most of the statues have been well maintained, a section of Buddhas that were vandalized during various invasions of the city were also on display,

as a reminder. This couple must have been as enchanted with the beauty of the temples as we were (or following tradition) because we saw them throughout the day having their wedding photos taken at several locations - and they changed their attire to match each one!

Wat Si Sisaket was followed by Haw Phra Kaew, another famous temple just across the street. Built in the mid 16th century this temple used to house the famous Jade Buddha, which now resides in Thailand. The bronze and stone sculptures were amazing

(Nandini was able to explain some of their symbolism to me) and the grounds were immaculately kept.

After a great lunch combo of streetfood and a cafe, we grabbed a tuk-tuk out to what is considered the main attraction of Vientiane: Pha That Luang, or the Great Stupa.

This 3rd century temple has been rebuilt several times due to invasions, transitioning from Hindu to Khmer to Buddhist, and is continuously renovated to keep it in pristine condition. Although, if you ask me, they might wanna focus some of that attention on the five minute walk you have to take across the enormous, empty parking lot to reach the site, which kind of ruins the ambiance. While the main attraction is, without question, the center temple covered in golden stupas, Pha That Luang is a huge complex with many incredible things to see:

After that, Nandini and I took another tuk-tuk out to Wat Sok Pa Luang, a more rural temple / monastery located on the outskirts of town, known for its herbal saunas and massages. We were attempting to go to a free group meditation but found out it wasn't happening until the next day. Whoops. Still, it gave us the chance to take a long walk back into town and see more of the real Vientiane than we otherwise would have. At the hostel I curled up in the movie room for a while and then we went to dinner.

In the morning Nandini and I parted ways, and I boarded a bus to the tiny village of Ban Nahin, also known as Kong Lor, to visit the Kong Lor cave and surrounding remote scenery. The ride down to the village was long but absolutely stunning: mountainous limestone crags and forests of thin but soaring trees. By this point, I'd given up on attempting to photograph moving terrain through dirty bus windows, so you'll have to use your imaginations! The village really was tiny,

but obviously growing to accommodate visitors. I found a guesthouse with shared rooms along the main road (a.k.a.: the ONLY road), owned and run by Noi, an incredibly sweet man, and his family. It was one of the nicest places I'd stayed (it even had free bicycles!) and, comparatively, I paid almost nothing. The second I put my bags down Noi gave me a mug of Laos tea and took me up to the balcony so he could show off the view.

(Okay, not from the balcony but you get the idea.) After dinner down the road at one of the few restaurants, I called it a night in order to get up on the early side and see the cave the next day.

Despite being early to bed I was not early to rise, but that's one of the perks I've found of solo traveling - no schedule to stick to if you don't wanna! After I got up I went for a leisurely stroll and breakfast and on my way out of the guesthouse Noi and his wife gave me a quality head torch to use in the cave. Walking to the cave was great, I got to see the day to day life of the villagers and listen to the wind as it blew through tall outcroppings of bamboo; a beautiful, hollow, meditative sound. The entrance to the cave area was flanked with giant gates,

very Jurassic Park, and inside was a lovely forrested pathway.

I took my time exploring the area and it was a good thing I did because it meant I got a boat buddy for the ride through the cave. By combing forces, Joel from New Zealand and I paid half of what we would have had to individually. We were set up with two guides and walked across the Nam Hin Bun river to the mouth of the cave.

Now, I had read a description of this cave which likened it to the underworld in Greek and Roman mythology, so I can't take credit for the comparison, but I can say I found it poetically accurate. The entrance of the cave is wide and low, at if a giant axe spilt open the mountainside.

You walk in along a sandy riverbank and darkness descends almost immediately. The guides (our own personal Charons) led us to a long, shallow boat, and we began to putter slowly through the water, only able to see where the lights of our head torches could reach. As we rode along, the low ceiling suddenly opened up into a huge cavern. With the walls textured by small side caves and lined with more sandy banks, I could almost see the demons and lost souls staring out from their posts and roaming the shores. Then the ceiling would lower again until the next massive opening. It was as if we were descending through Dante's nine circles of hell. Once in a while another boat would pass us going in the opposite direction, but then we would fall back info darkness and near silence. Although there was definitely a creepy factor (something the tour companies like to play up, as evidenced by several descriptions I read focusing on the massive, 10 inch spiders they pretty much guarantee you will encounter on your trip - of which I saw none and was a bit disappointed) I found the experience both thrilling and surreal. At one point we got out of the boat to get up close and personal with the rock formations, but overall I found this cave to be much more about the experience rather than the sights. And, needless to say, in the pitch black I didn't get any pictures, so my memories of the sensations will have to suffice. (I later found out that the walking sections of the cave are wired with lights which our guides were supposed to switch on as we went through, but I'm so glad they didn't!)

After riding for about an hour we turned a corner and saw light - it was the other end of the cave! So we sailed out of the underworld and into Eden...

The river continued on to another village, this one even smaller than Ban Nahin with a population of just over five hundred people. (More adventurous travelers than I sometimes opt to spend a night or two in a homestay there.) We stopped outside the village for a while, and then began the journey back through the cave. It was just as enchanting in reverse. Before leaving I asked the guides how high the river gets during the rainy season, as I was wondering how different the experience would be. I was emphatically informed that the tours don't run during the rainy season, as the cave floods completely. Finally, for this adventure the weather was on my side! I enjoyed the walk back to the guesthouse where I spent a lazy evening reading and getting ready for my 7am bus ride south to Thakhek.

Photos: Bright Wats, Small City (That's Where I Gotta Go)

caraadelle — Tue, 14 Jan 2014 04:20:00 GMT

When the Weather Is High You Can Stretch Right Up and Touch the Sky

caraadelle — Fri, 10 Jan 2014 02:42:00 GMT

I started my first day in Vang Vieng the best way possible - by sleeping in! After getting up I went to find some breakfast and ended up at one of the restaurants along the Nam Song river which notoriously screen American TV shows non-stop. Look down on me if you will, but I thoroughly enjoyed my breakfast of Eggs Benedict and Friends. While lounging I was befriended by three amazing people from the Isle of Man: Lucy and Will (a couple) and their friend Ed. Although I had fully intended to spend the day being as lazy as possible, the trio invited me instead to join them mountain biking (not motorbiking) to several nearby sites, all of which were on my "to do in Vang Vieng" list, so of course I accepted. After renting the bikes we rode for several miles along rocky dirt paths surrounded by the beautiful mountain sceney Vang Vieng is revered for, stopping along the way for various photo ops. Like this picturesque pond

or this view of the mountains and locals

or this cows traffic jam (and Ed).

The first site we visited was the Blue Lagoon - a large pool known for its stunning color - where we spent some time swimming and jumping into the water from trees

while obeying this sign

as these strangers made art

The second site, the Tham Phu Kham cave, was located in the same area up a pretty steep climb, but it was worth the hike. The front of the cave houses a shrine

(and Will) but the rest is empty and free to explore as you wish. No trails. No lights. No safety rails. (Try finding that in the good ol' US of A, lawsuit capital of the known universe.) We roamed around for a while, deciding to head back before we got completely lost, and rode back to town. There, Lucy, Will and Ed took me to a great bar complete with a "Happy Bucket" menu: mushroom shakes, opium joints, etc... No I did not partake. But I did have an awesome time with the bartender/owner, a super fun guy who loved to do bar tricks and give out free shots while his tiny son robbed people blind by playing pool against them for money. (And at some point I might have ended up doing an upside down beer bong which there may or may not be video footage of.) From the bar we headed out to find some good Laos food for dinner and after that mission was accomplished it was time for bed. It turned out my three new friends had an extra bed in their shared room which they offered to me. I decided to take them up on it... after one more night in my own big, comfy bed!

The next day I moved my stuff into Lucy, Will, and Ed's room and Lucy and I spent the morning in a cafe while the boys did some more mountain biking. In the afternoon she and I decided to live it up and participate in the event Vang Vieng is best known for: drunken tubing down the Nam Song

surrounded by stunning views!

It was Christmas eve after all. Debauchery ensued

and we had so much fun drifting down the river from bar to bar, drinking, dancing, making friends, and limbo-ing under poles of fire.

I think these photos sum everything up pretty well, especially since they are upside down. Yeah... FP.

After that it was time for a nap. In the evening the owners of the guesthouse threw a huge, semi- traditional Korean barbeque dinner for everyone staying there, which was so sweet and generous of them. The four of us called it an early night in preparation for our sunrise adventure the next day...

That's right, hot air ballooning on Christmas morning! It was a bit of a splurge for me but undeniably much less expensive than it would be in the states (even with a Groupon or Living Social deal) and totally worth it. The views were gorgeous

and the experience itself was pretty thrilling.

Including when we landed in the trees.

Obviously, having watched the sun rise, we all went back to bed afterwards. Then Lucy and I went in search of some ibuprofen and wound up in the ER of the local hospital, which I am so grateful to have seen. Having just been in Phonsavan learning about the UXOs, it was invaluable to see the type of care many people ride hours in the back of tractors, suffering from crippling burns and with severed limbs, to receive. The building itself was a far cry from sanitary by western standards, and the equipment might have been considered "new" a few decades ago. As I sat beside the ancient oxygen tank, my eyes drifting from the mold on the walls to the surgical trays which resembled old barbeque grills, and I struggled to imagine this place as my only hope for survival after encountering a bombie. Merry Christmas indeed.

(I will say that the capital city of Vientiane does have a hospital that is much better equipped and serves as the main surgical center for UXO victims who need advanced medical care, provided they survive the period immediately following their encounter. However, this is only ONE hospital for an entire country and if a westerner gets gravely injured in Laos they are typically medi-vaced??? to the superior hospitals in Bangkok, so clearly even the Vientiane hospital isn't up to our standards for care [which we take so very much for granted]. Yet it is the best they have to treat the multiple, daily, life-threatening injuries that occur due to UXOs. Alright, now I'm done laying some perspective on your ass.)

After a lazy day split between beds and cafés, we all went out for Christmas dinner and found a Laos restaurant serving a massive holiday buffet including shots of whiskey. Done and done. On top of that, a local was celebrating his birthday at the same place and we ended up being treated to beers and partying the night away with him and a group of his friends. I think Lucy had the most fun.

As wonderful a time as I was having in Vang Vieng it was time to move on, so the next morning I said "goodbye" to Lucy, Will, and Ed and boarded a bus to Vientiane.

Photos: When the Weather is High You Can Stretch Right Up and Touch the Sky

caraadelle — Fri, 10 Jan 2014 02:28:00 GMT

Bombieland

caraadelle — Thu, 9 Jan 2014 19:14:00 GMT

My day of sightseeing in Phonsavan got off to a rough start. The night before I met a woman at dinner who had an actual thermometer with her. While I knew it was cold, I had no idea it was regularly getting down to 30*F (-1*C) or so at night! (And this is pretty far south of Luang Nam Tha so goodness knows how cold it really was up there.) I woke up not feeling the greatest, and was surprised by a knock on my door. It was the very nice man from the travel agency I had booked my tour with for the day. He came to tell me that the tour was...you guessed it - cancelled! But, of course, if I wanted to pay more I could go on a different one. Awesome sauce. Instead I got a refund and crawled back into bed where I spent the morning shivering and watching movies. I hauled myself up in time for check out and went to find a tuk-tuk to drive me to the Plain of Jars instead of looking for another tour.

Somewhat similar to Easter Island and Stonehenge, the Plain of Jars is an ancient site with an ultimately unknown purpose.

Dating back to the Iron Age (approximately 500 BC to 500 AD), the stone jars, of which there are thousands, range from 1300 pounds to 6 tons,

and are scattered across several sites just outside of Phonsavan. While the original reason for their creation is unknown, bones have been discovered inside certain jars so it's speculated they held a funerary function. (Although I personally prefer the native legend that the jars were actually the drinking cups of ancient godlike kings.) The jars lay scattered around fields in various conditions, some still completely whole, others broken into pieces.

Large stone slabs sit next to many of the jars and were originally thought to be lids,

but after actual lids were found,

it was decided that these slabs were most likely markers of some kind.

Nearby the jars there are huge craters in the ground created by bombs that were dropped by the US from 1964 to 1973.

One can't help but wonder how much this contributed to the current state of the jars. Or how many may have been destroyed altogether. But more about the bombing later. It was a really amazing place to have seen, and I wish I had thought ahead and brought a picnic like all these guys!

Back in town I had a while before my sleeper bus to Vang Vieng. I had read that somewhere on the bleak main street of Phonsavan were several worthwhile information centers about the 9 year US bombing of Laos and the country's enduring problems with UXOs, or unexploded ordinances. So I set out to find them, and I'm so glad I did!

First, for some worthwhile history. For 9 years, from 1964 to 1973, Laos was constantly assailed with over 200 million tons of explosives dropped day and night by the US military. (That's an average of one plane load of bombs every 8 minutes, 24 hours a day.) A huge percentage of the country was blanketed with these attacks, making Laos the most bombed place on earth.

While it is claimed by the US that these raids were strategically placed (in the north to fight the rise of communist groups and in there south to cut off the Viet Cong's access to the Ho Chi Minh trail) their purpose appears to be more along the lines of indiscriminate destruction. Certain theories about the bombing being related to cover-ups of the CIAs involvement in funding local anti-communist guerilla armies, not to mention some serious opium trading, have also surfaced. On top of all this, approximately one third of the bombs dropped never exploded, leaving 25% of the country heavily strewn with UXOs. These weapons, referred to by locals as "bombies,"are now often discovered in rural villages by children who think they are toys, adults who attempt to disassemble them for scrap metal, or are accidentally struck by farmers while tending their fields. As a result, at least one person is killed and many more are injured by these bombies every day. For the record, I knew about none of this prior to coming to Laos.

The first education center I visited was the Xieng Khouang UXO-survivor's Information Center which focuses on the everyday experiences the Laos people have with bombs and on life after the tragic and nearly inevitable daily explosions. The walls were covered in explanations of how the bombs are found and what the outcomes typically are, all scrawled in black paint made to look like the drawings of a child, I believe since they are the most common victims. There are also detachable books that chronicle the lives of bomb survivors and chalk boards propped up against the walls which are constantly updated with information about the latest victims. One of the employees, several if whom are survivors and all of whom are young adults putting themselves through university, asked if I wanted to watch a brief documentary about a few survivors' stories. Ummm, yes please! After the film I wandered through the last room of the center and found a recent project that had been documented using ... wait for it ... ART THERAPY with child and adolescent survivors!

Be still my heart. Even prior to seeing this I was contemplating writing to the head of my graduate department about the possibilities of incorporating Laos into our international program (which already has strong ties in India and South Africa). After seeing the display I will definitely be writing her and I'm even thinking about applying for a grant to come back and do some work here myself. Anyone else wanna join in? (For more information you can also look up the Quality of Life Association.)

Next I visited the Mines Advisory Group center Which has more information about the bombs themselves and displays a great deal of statistics about the attacks (not to mention the bombs themselves). In the basement is a large film room where I watched a documentary called Bomb Harvest which shows MAG specialists coming in and teaching locals how to safely disarm and dispose of the bombs. It also highlights what life is like for people living in the rural areas where the UXOs are still fairly prevalent, focusing mainly on children and elders who lived through the actual raids.

Walking out of this center I looked across the street and saw a small sign saying something along the lines of: see banned film about bombings here, 50 kip (about $6), schedule in advance. Sold! I walked into this tiny restaurant and asked to see the film. After I paid the owner pulled several sheets of corrugated tin across the front of the building, effectively blocking it from view. They were serious about this! As I ate dinner I watched the film called The Most Secret Place on Earth which is about the "secret war" in Laos where America and the CIA played huge roles. The majority of the people in the film are retired marines who served in Laos, in this secret war. It was pretty interesting and made me think about how little I know about past and current US military involvements overseas, in part because a lot of that information isn't advertised to the public.

(Artifacts from the secret war on display in the restaurant, collected by the owner's father. He had been involved in the war and knew many of the Marine troops in the film.)

After the film I had just enough time to get back to my guesthouse and grab a tuk-tuk to the bus station for my overnight ride to Vang Vieng. When I got to the bus station I was so excited to see what looked like a really nice sleeper bus, hooray! Even if I was going to be arriving at 3 am I could get a few good hours of rest before then. Climbing on the bus I saw not only was it clean but there were full sized beds! Then one of the staff members pointed me to my bed ... which already had a man sleeping in it. My eyes widened and before I could stop myself I turned to the staff member and said, "Two people to a bed? Oh my god!" He nodded and then, rolling his eyes, mimicked me. "Oh my god," he said, before walking away. Touche Mr. Bus Man, I probably couldn't have sounded more like a western female in that moment if I had tried. Later he came back and, to make amends, relocated me to a bed with another girl. Despite all this the beds were quite comfy and I enjoyed the ride until my rather prompt arrival in Vang Vieng around 3:30am. Luckily I got picked up by the nicest tuk-tuk driver who told me he knew a good but inexpensive place to stay. He even insisted I sit I the cab with him instead of in the back and pointed out a few things to me as we drove. Arriving at the guesthouse I was shown to a room which had a huge, thick mattressed bed and a hot shower, for the same price per night as I had paid earlier to watch the documentary. I was literally giddy (I think I might have freaked the owner out a little bit) and after dancing around the room with joy I curled up for a wonderfully comfortable night of sleep with no alarm set for the morning.

Photos: Bombieland

caraadelle — Thu, 9 Jan 2014 18:59:00 GMT

I'm No Easy Rider

caraadelle — Wed, 1 Jan 2014 17:08:00 GMT

The journey from Luang Prabang to Luang Nam Tha lasted twelve hours and consisted of two tuk-tuks, an epic bus ride through winding mountain roads, and a lot of unnecessary walking. Still the scenery was undeniably beautiful, filled with verdant mountainsides, emerald colored streams, and tiny villages of thatched wood and woven grass homes built on the sides of cliffs.

Plus, when the bus stopped for lunch I got to eat as the locals do. So good!

(FYI, those brown things are crickets.)

The city of Nam Tha itself left something to be desired but it had a few cafes and a booming night market (relatively speaking). However, and this is a BIG however - it was beyond freezing. Literally freezing. The northern location plus the high altitude made me and Brinn two absolutely miserable travelers. After finding our fingers numb and breath visible even while sitting inside our guesthouse, the prospect of sleeping in the jungle and bathing in rivers lost its appeal, so that morning we switched our multi-day trek to a single day, ten hour, jungle/village combo for the next day. Paying a visit to the local tourism center also revealed that, unlike many other parts of Laos, in and around Nam Ha the wet season is instead referred to as "adventure season" and is the best time of year to visit the area.

After spending several hours thawing out in a cafe, Brinn and I decided to rent some motorbikes and spend the day riding up to the Chinese border. Thus began the beginning of the end. Let me preface this by saying the so-called "roads" from Luang Nam Tha to China are made up of more potholes, gravel, and dirt than actual pavement. Let me also say, Brinn and I are idiots. Long story short, she made it up to actually see the Chinese border before crashing. I did not. Neither of us were hurt beyond some road rash and a twisted ankle (although the bikes didn't go quite as unscathed) but let's just say I won't be riding on anything other than well-paved roads again. Or driving motorbikes at all for the foreseeable future. Sorry Dad! Back in town we cancelled our treks for the next day and instead just bought bus tickets back south, found the most western food we possibly could for dinner, and hunkered down for our last frigid night in Nam Tha, totally defeated.

The ride back to Luang Prabang felt even longer than the ride there, and this time there wasn't even a cricket lunch to ease the pain. (Although seeing these guys chillin' at the bus station helped a little.)

When we got to the hostel we were informed that all the dorms were full, but the silver lining of looking so pathetic was we got to stay in a private room for the cost of a dorm! Yay for nice people!

We awoke to a gorgeous day and I decided to go around and revisit all the beautiful sights of Luang Prabang,

including climbing to the top of Phu Si hill to visit the That Chomsi temple

at sunset.

The rest of the day was spent lazing around in cafes and booking my bus ticket. I had definitely spent more than enough time in the north and decided to start heading south with a trip to Phonsavan to see the mysterious and ancient "Plain of Jars."

The next morning I got up before dawn to finally play homage to the monks on their daily walking ritual, which includes giving offerings of rice if you wish. I'm now going to climb on a soapbox I probably have no business being on, considering I haven't spent any time on this trip contributing to the betterment of anything (except hopefully myself), but the behavior of the westerners visiting this ritual was deplorable. Instead of sitting quietly to the side of yet road, either on their knees giving offerings or just as witnesses to this beautiful tradition, they set up huge cameras and flashes in the middle of the monks path! I highly doubt these were professional photographers, and even if they were there are ways to document a meditative, religious event without disturbing it. No wonder the existence of this daily ceremony is at risk!

Natural light:

With someone else's big 'ol flash:

I tried my best to ignore this and instead focused on the ritual itself: the austere walk of the monks, the draping of their robes, the slight nods some would give when accepting offerings, the way they were ordered oldest to youngest, and the reverence with which they were regarded by the locals and religious visitors.

I wondered what it must be like for a 7 or 8 year old to be given such respect by the non-monk elders in the community?

After the ritual ended, I headed back to bed for an hour before catching the bus (aka: minivan) to Phonsavan. Now, I have experienced some rough rides while traveling before, several rural roads in Guatemala come to mind, but this one definitely ended up being in the top 5. Nothing but switchback, hairpin turns up and down mountains for 7 hours. Not to mention the Laos family throwing up in the back seat nearly the entire time. I didn't get sick, but I definitely didn't feel good. Arriving in Phonsavan was a bit anti-climactic. It's not the most atmospheric place, mainly just a single dusty road lined with auto shops and insurance agencies, but I checked into a guesthouse and went to find dinner and a tour of the area for the next day. I got both of those things as well as a night bus out to Vang Vieng for the following evening. As excited as I was to see the historic sights of the area, I wanted this to be a "wham, bam, thank you ma'am" type of stop.

Photos: I'm No Easy Rider

caraadelle — Wed, 1 Jan 2014 16:58:00 GMT

That Time Templeton Was My Roommate

caraadelle — Mon, 30 Dec 2013 21:48:00 GMT

My first stop in Laos was Luang Prabang and my first evening was spent in a guesthouse along the Nam Khan river. Despite there being evidence of rats in my room I decided it just must not have been used in a while and decided to go for dinner. I found a small place along the water and had an unbelievably good hot pot of vegetable soup where you cook everything yourself over a barbecue (ie: hole filled with hot coals) built into the center of the table. Afterwards I went for a walk around the town and honestly, I wasn't sure how to feel about Luang Prabang. It's a beautiful, quaint town

nestled inbetween the Mekong and Nam Khan rivers,

featuring several gorgeous temples,

an unbelievable night market,

and filled with great shops, cafes, and bars, but it felt so westernized and not like I imaged authentic Laos to be. Even the ancient procession of the monks at sunrise is being threatened by the overabundance of western influence and tourism. But more about that later.

After bumping into Brinn who invited me to join her trip to the Kuang Si waterfall the next day, I proceeded to get lost for about three hours. And then I found Utopia. Before you get excited, it's the name of a bar in Luang Prabang. There I found pretentious poser hippies being pretentious and poser-y together in the best possible way: laying on pillow covered floors surrounded by trees, playing guitar, talking about meditation, referring to Buddha as "Siddartha", and staring at you in that magical way that is somehow simultaneously blank and yet filled with just enough judgement and condescension to create within you a single minded desire to be accepted by them and made privy to their bullshit secrets so that some day you can, in turn, stare at other spiritual newbs that way. It's the kind of place where words like "transcendental" are frequently heard. Where music opinions are moot unless you can incorporate the phrase "their early stuff" into your explanation. I couldn't help but love it. It made me feel like reverting to my state of being in college where all I wanted to do was dread my hair and move to a co-op where I could exist on nothing but brown rice flavored with communal energy and make a living selling organic bracelets and aura cleansing hugs. A sense of extreme longing bordering on teary panic filled me when I looked at the bulletin board advertising local jobs for travelers, and I felt suddenly as if I wasn't nearly as free on this trip as I really wanted. Oh, to move to Laos for a few months and hang out in a self-indulgent bubble of pseudo-enlightened Western ridiculousness! Once I left I realized I've just been struggling with this whole "traveling without a purpose" thing and acknowledged my need to feel as if I'm doing something useful with my time, so hopefully I will find a volunteer opportunity I can participate in soon (instead of those I've been finding that require time and money I don't have).

I returned to my room to find more evidence that I wasn't alone and the next morning awoke to discover at least one of my new rat friends had been in bed with me. It was time to move. It turned out there was a religious festival happening that day (the moving of a specific Buddha statue to a special place in the city) and after watching the street processional

I checked out of the guesthouse and moved way over to the other side of town to a youth hostel that was much cleaner and included breakfast. Score another one for hostels!

I then met up with Brinn and Vong (her guide) and went to the Kuang Si waterfalls. It was stunning.

The minerals in the limestone turn the water an unreal pale turquoise and despite the weather being relatively cool, Brinn and I joined the masses and went for a swim/jump/swing.

Then Vong led us on a quick trek up to the top of the main fall

for fantastic views.

The waterfall area is also home to a bear conservatory so we got to go check out these guys!

On the way back we stopped at a local village where many of the handcrafts sold at the Luang Prabang night market are made.

Back in town Brinn and I decided to find somewhere to do yoga and payed a visit to a local studio. Unfortunately, the owner/instructor wasn't feeling well so class was cancelled. Fortunately, his better half was there and she let us use the space for a self practice free of charge! I choose gratitude as my intention for the session. Then Brinn and I went out for dinner (where I found Italian wine for cheap - hooray!) and headed back to the hostel for bed.

The following day I met up with Brinn and Vong again, this time to visit the Pak Ou, or Buddha, Caves. We took a beautiful slow boat (just like this one!)

down the Mekong to the cave, and along the way, it started to rain. And it kept raining. Welcome back to my trip. The main cave is filled with over 4,000 Buddha statues, brought there over the centuries by worshippers as praise and as offerings for luck, health, good fortune, etc.

I left one of the beads from my Vietnamese prayer necklace there, more to honor and contribute than anything else.

Vong then led us up to a second cave which holds fewer Buddhas but features cave paintings (picture is sideways)

and carvings instead.

Both caves were wonderful to have seen.

Back on the slow boat (in the rain) we visited the Ban Xang Hai whiskey making village for some samples which warmed us up a bit and then headed back to the main town. Everyone was talking about the rain and how unusual it was to get any rain this time of year, much less a full day of it. Lucky me. But most people were saying it was an auspicious sign from the Buddha moving ceremony the previous day. Brinn and I made our way back to the yoga studio where we got to take a private Ashtanga class from the owner. It was amazing and ended up being the last ever class he was teaching in Luang Prabang! The studio is now closed. For dinner Brinn and I shared some cook-at-the-table-yourself barbecue

and she revealed her cat whispering skills.

We then had some outstanding desserts at a French restaurant where the pastries were half price after 9pm (I, for one, think this is a policy that should be adopted globally).

The next day was a planning day for me and Brinn. We decided to team up and go north to the Nam Ha National Protected Area for jungle trekking together, and selected a three day, two night adventure that featured one night spent in the jungle and one in a local village (like a bathing in the river village) with full days of hiking inbetween. After booking bus tickets I grabbed some classic mystery-meat-on-a-stick street food for dinner and we went to a super cool bookstore/tea house for their nightly movie screening. The following morning we got up early to catch our bus to Luang Nam Tha, a small town located just outside the protected area and only about 50 kilometers from the Chinese border!

Photos: That Time Templeton Was My Roommate

caraadelle — Mon, 30 Dec 2013 21:34:00 GMT

Who Runs the World? GIRLS.

caraadelle — Mon, 30 Dec 2013 17:04:00 GMT

The boat ride from Cat Ba to Halong Bay ended up being pretty uneventful, and I was quite glad I had chosen to spend my time on the island.

I did get to meet a very interesting and well traveled older gentleman from Hungary and chat with a Vietnamese couple in their late 60s who fled the country for America after the husband was incarcerated for being a southern supporter during the war. They ended up living in New York and weren't allowed back into Vietnam even to visit until 1995. Now they are retired and living in Phoenix which, for some reason, was totally adorable to me.

On dry land we transferred to a bus and had lunch at a local restaurant before riding all the way to Hanoi. On the bus I met two great girls from San Francisco - Cara (ha!) and Tara. We decided to get off the bus near the center of the city by the somewhat famous Hoan Kiem lake, find a cafe with Wi-Fi, and figure things out from there.

After deciding on a hostel, the girls, who had spent some time in Hanoi previously, took me to a barbeque street stall they loved about for dinner. Let me just say, after less than five minutes of navigating the cramped, hectic streets of the old quarter of Hanoi, infused with light, color, and old-world charm, I was completely infatuated and really regretted only having two days to spend in such an alluring, honey-combed city. Oh, AND the barbecue was outstanding. (This coming from an at-home-not-while-traveling-or-at-peoples-homes-for-dinner vegetarian who really doesn't enjoy the taste of meat so you KNOW that food had to be too legit to quit.)

I was too busy staring to get any good pictures of the city but just in case you were wondering...

...Christmas is alive and well in Vietnam.

The next day Cara and Tara left for Thailand and I met up with Mariana, who had arrived from Cat Ba the previous night, for a day of sightseeing. We. Did. Everything. Our first stop was the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum complex, which includes the actual mausoleum where his body is on display, a museum about the history of Vietnam, two of his homes, his car collection, etc., etc. We mainly spent time in the mausoleum itself, which was a very interesting experience. In revered silence, visitors file past a large glass coffin where Ho Chi Minh's body reclines on a plush bed of silk pillows. Hats and chewing gum are strictly prohibited, and I'm pretty sure the guards could tell if you so much as thought about giggling. I also got the impression that taking a photo could earn you a night in jail. (Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little but you get the idea.)

After that we visited the Temple of Literature, which is pretty much the oldest university in Vietnam (you know, before universities were a thing) where philosophy students used to study. Now it is a site that honors these students and a place where people go to pray for good luck in school and business.

We were lucky enough to be there on a day when groups of students from around the area were at the temple to have graduation photos taken.

(These students from an all girls school were finally telling a male professor what's what.)

I thought it was a really great tradition for all of the students to be able to have photos commemorating their studies taken in a place which honors great minds of centuries past. Continuing on our way I FINALLY tried a traditional bahn bao for lunch, and I have to say, I was a fan!

Up next was the Hoa Lo Prison, which has a really amazing history. Originally built by the French colonists around a village where the locals specialized in ceramic goods, it was used to house (and torture) native men and women who fought against French rule.

Inside the male quarters/stockade. The women had their own section and were not chained because they had to take care of the children born in the prison.

The heads of female soldiers on display after their torture and execution. Women made up a significant percentage of the resistance against the French.

Death row.

On a more positive note, the prison museum also contains amazing examples of the human spirit, such as the items made by the people incarcerated there, including flags, books, writing tools, household items, games, and, of course, art!

After the French left in 1954, the Vietnamese used it as a jail for each other until it became a POW prison during the war. Now, I had heard that the American soldiers kept there referred to this jail as the "Hanoi Hilton," and I always assumed they were being facetious. Turns out this location might be one of the most controversial and propagandized I've visited. Inside the prison there are only photos of the soldiers being treated more like welcome guests than prisoners. They're shown celebrating Christmas, receiving care packages from home, playing sports, and sharing dinner and drinks with the guards.

However, the American side of the story is much different, with POWs telling stories of horrifying living conditions and endless hours of excruciating torture, with no motive except to break them. To be fair, treatment of the soldiers did change over time after the US got involved through rescue attempts and by globally publicizing the conditions, but I'm still not sure what to believe. What was real and what was staged?

Our final stop was the Women's Museum, which gives an amazing look into the lives of many different types of Vietnamese women. From those belonging to native tribes who live off the land

to those who were dominant forces in the war

to those of great contemporary importance, (or everyday city workers like the one depicted here)

the overarching theme was this: these are some incredibly hardworking, brilliant, bad-ass bitches.

There was also a special exhibit dedicated to the Mother Goddess - a female deity worshiped by some Vietnamese people that has become, for lack of a better description, a kind of sub-religion. Her purpose and multiple manifestations, as well as the way she is worshipped and spoken about by her believers, was really beautiful.

(Not the most interesting picture but I just loved the first part of this quote!)

Obviously, I found the museum in it's entirety quite inspiring.

(For my Art Therapy school friends - look familiar?)

From the museum we walked through the ritzy part of town to Hoa Kiem lake located at the center of the city, which we discovered is a popular place for dates and wedding photos.

(That's Turtle Tower, or Thap Rua.)

The Ngoc Son Temple is built on the lake itself and was quite lovely.

Then we went to a very unique, speakeasy-esk cafe Mariana had read about and shared an interesting drink of sweetened coffee topped with frothed egg whites. We parted ways to freshen up and then had an amazing dinner at a small restaurant near Mariana's hostel, and I officially decided Hanoi has some of the best food in Vietnam. Back on the street who should we bump into but the Australian boys from Cat Ba?! Such is the small world of life in the traveling community. After that Mariana and I officially said goodbye (but we talked about maybe meeting up later in Laos) and I headed back to my hostel.

In the morning it was time to go to Laos! I woke up early to catch the local bus to the airport, and encountered my first travel snafu... Often times when you check-in at a hostel or guest house the person working at the front desk takes your passport and stores it in a safe place. This is done for several reasons: to provide protection from theft, give the guests peace of mind, and as collateral to ensure people pay their bills when checking out. However, this isn't always the case, so you have to remember when leaving an accommodation if they have your passport or if you do. Similarly, it is the job of the receptionist to remember to return passports at check-out. On this particular morning, both the girl at the desk and I forgot to do our jobs, and I left my passport at the hostel. Luckily, I realized this at the bus station. Unluckily I had to walk all the way back to the hostel to get it (crying unnecessarily the entire way and unintentionally horrifying the girl at the hostel desk) causing me to miss the bus and have to take a cab. So instead of paying $2 for the hour long ride I had to pay $12, but let's be real - overall not even close to the worst thing that could have happened. Thankfully my luck changed at the airport and I got through customs without any issues despite having overstayed my visa (by a day). The guy checking my passport didn't even bat an eye.

On the plane to Laos I met Brinn from Sacramento. We bonded over yoga mats and a mutual desire to head up to the northern part of Laos for some jungle trekking. Her brother (a yoga instructor running a retreat in Thailand she was headed to) had set up a few things for Brinn to do during for her first few days in Laos, including transport from the airport which I got to take advantage of. The ride from the airport to the center of Luang Prabang was absolutely gorgeous. Golden sunlight bathed the lush, green countryside and the roads wound around rivers and rice paddies with monks clad in saffron robes dotting the scenery. Vong, Brinn's hired guide, helped me find a cheap guesthouse located along the Nam Khan river, and while it wasn't the cleanest, the view was great.

(Bamboo footbridge across from the guesthouse!)

So far, my first impression of Laos: this could be love.

Photos: Who Runs the World? GIRLS.

caraadelle — Mon, 30 Dec 2013 16:54:00 GMT

Climbing and Kayaks and Snakes, Oh My!

caraadelle — Wed, 18 Dec 2013 16:02:00 GMT

The trip from Son Trach to Cat Ba ended up going fairly well. We took a small bus from Son Trach to Dong Hoi and then an overnight bus to Hanoi, arriving around 8am. Having several hours to kill before the next phase of travel we bought some fruit and banh my sandwiches and holed up in a cafe. At 11am we took a bus several hours to the cost, then a boat to Cat Ba, and a final bus to the main town on the island. All in all we had traveled for about 24 hours, but checking in to our hotel, normally $25 during the high season, which we were paying $3 each for, and watching the sun set over Cat Ba Bay from the balcony, made everything worth it.

After a wonderful meal we decided to call it a night, and I personally finished off the evening by watching a French pastry competition on TV. Parfait!

The next day Kristy rented a bicycle while Mari and I took it easy. We walked around some of the nearby beaches, admiring the surroundings

and laying out in the sun.

I also spent some time collecting pieces of coral that had washed up on the beach

and making sandcastles like a motherfucking adult!

Jonathan, who we had met in Son Trach, arrived in Cat Ba that afternoon and came to meet us. In the evening Mari, Jonathan, and I went to the local outdoor adventure / rock climbing company and signed up to do deep water soloing and kayaking the next day! (Google it.) After dinner we made an early night of it in order to prepare ourselves for the insanity to come.

In the morning, Mari, Jonathan and I woke up early and went to meet up with the rest of the crazy people. The other climbers on the trip were: Declan, Lawrence, and Ken from Australia, Peter from Germany, Kyle from Canada, and Sean from California. Our two guides were Nick (who was Vietnamese but from Florida) and Thanh (a local). We set out on a small boat into Cat Ba Bay to find some good rocks! Although the climbing was pretty tough, we all had a great time and a few people took some pretty intense jumps into the water.

I did my best and on one run had one pretty decent climb up to about 30 feet, but when I got tired Nick did yoga with me on the boat instead. Back on board we all compared battle wounds (everyone was covered in scrapes, bruises, and torn clothes) and shared a great lunch.

Then it was time for Nick and Thanh to leave. We were joined by Kate (from Massachusetts) who led us on an unbelievable kayaking tour. We sailed under rock arches,

into lagoons surrounded by jungle,

and explored beaches blanketed in washed up coral.

After returning to the main boat we traveled back to Cat Ba Island. Lying on the ship's roof, passing fish and pearl farms,

we basked in the wondrous views, the sunset, and the memories of the day.

In need of some serious caffination, the whole group headed out for coffee where Declan, Lawrence, Ken, and Peter revealed that they had signed up to do a traditional snake dinner that evening. Having wanted to do this my entire time in Vietnam I freaked out and begged to join. They assured me that everyone was welcome, so after a quick shower we all reconvened at a local restaurant where their snake was being delivered. The owner of the establishment brought out the live snake to show us, then killed it at the table by cutting it's throat. The blood was drained into a glass and mixed with Vietnamese vodka. Then it was bottoms up!

We also did shots of the venom mixed with vodka which was super cool (it made your mouth tingle and go numb).

The owner brought out the skinned snake and delivered its internal organs to us on a plate, including the heart which was still beating! Ken dominated and swallowed the heart with (little to) no hesitation.

A few of the guys did shots of the bile mixed with alcohol but I passed on that one with no regrets.

The snake skin was deep fried and served as a starter,

and then the snake meat was served two ways: ground and rolled up in seaweed,

and as part of a hot pot mixed with whole chickens.

(Peter, not sure how to feel after sucking on the boiled head of a chicken, and Ken looking on in absolute glee.)

While the snake was the main meal for Ken, Peter, Declan and Lawrence, the rest of us ordered other dishes, and a few people chose dog. I tried one piece of each offering, including the dog (*hangs head in shame*), but was happy to focus most of my attention on my vegetarian meal. After the epic dining experience concluded, Sean, Peter, Jonathan and I headed to a nearby bar for a few drinks and balloons of laughing gas. Ya know, the usual.

The next day Kristy left for Hanoi and I joined Mariana, Jonathan, Sean, and Kyle for some more rock climbing out near the national park. As seasoned climbers they were very helpful and supportive and assured me I did pretty well for a newb. After a few attempts I left the climbing to them and went trekking, but I think I might have found a new hobby! Hopefully I will get to climb more on this trip. Before heading back for dinner we drank some beer and honeyed rice wine at the family restaurant located next to the crags. After a quick meal in town I went on a night fishing adventure/debacle with the Aussies from the day before where we caught nada and just sat freezing our butts off on a tiny boat in the middle of nowhere. Oh well, live and learn.

Back to shore!

Visiting Cat Ba was definitely a highlight of my time in Vietnam, but everything must some day come to an end, so after three glorious days I boarded a boat set for Halong Bay and from there took a bus to the capital city of Hanoi.