I hadn't planned on spending much time in Luang Prabang, until I hit the street and instantly fell in love with the people, the sights, the smells, the food, the laid back pace. The glorious Mekong River was in sight from where I stayed, Khonsavan guesthouse. I did a little dance at the discovery of a toilet and hot water., then walked around the night market and hung out with people from the guesthouse. The next morning I explored on my own, then had planned to hitchike to waterfalls outside of town with a guy from my guesthouse. No one on the road seemed to understand our intention and just waved to us, so we ended up walking to the less traveled Tad Thong waterfalls. We had the whole place to ourselves and it reminded me of the Jungle book, so overgrown and alive with a chorus of birds and insects, so beautiful. That night we travelers from my guesthouse gathered for LaoLao whiskey, music, and laughs. The next day we planned to see Koang Si waterfalls, and I was blown away by the pristine blue cascading down into several pools we swam in.
The following day, The Familiar Wave of Sadness occupied my focus, and I sat with It, grateful that now I am able to harness the gloom and understand that it shall pass. Just as the rain renews our appreciation for the sun, cognitively working through my lows helps me appreciate my highs. During this time in particular, though I was surrounded by people, I felt so lonely. Ironically, I couldn't get quite alone enough to feel less lonely. Sharing rooms and rarely having a moment of solitude is an adjustment that had quickly overwhelmed me on this day, and I felt depleted, and out of place for feeling so when everyone around me was marching to a different tune. This would be the start of a new growth, I figured, because I was without my familiar comforts to pacify the depression flare up. At home, I could respond to these emotions in various ways, hiding in my home space, calling a friend, walking my dog, etc. Out here I must rely on my own mind, my perceptions, to embrace the darkness and shift it to light. It'll take some time but it's necessary to honor the struggle.
Itching for some nature therapy, the next day I paid for a night bus to take me to Laung Namtha on the 2nd, not prepared for it to be a sleeper bus, meaning you lay on a single mattress (and if you're traveling solo like I, you get to share the space with a stranger), also the top bunks are built so low that I was not able to sit up. I laid on my side, trying to take up as least room as possible so I wouldn't slide around all over the guy beside me, and fell asleep. The bus arrived at 3am and I shared a tuk tuk with 4 girls to the office of The Hiker, an eco based trekking service. The man working asked if I needed a place to stay and I graciously accepted; we slept in tents just outside of the office and I decided I might as well join on their 2 day trek that would begin at 9am. The choice was for the best, as independent exploring in Laung namtha is difficult and not easily accessible unless on motorbike. Our group of 8 departed into the jungles of Nam Ha and were challenged a bit. Our guide pointed out different treasures to us, and picked edible plants for us to try. We reached a small village to rest for the night, and set up at a hut we would all share. I walked around the village with one of the guys and we were summoned to a "party spot" by three villagers who had a speaker set up next to homemade liquor. They insisted on giving us shots, but we were only able to tolerate one.. Ohhh the burn. They also shared rice wine with us that they shared through several straws coming out of what resembled a flower pot. The rest of the trek was a sweaty joy, witnessing mesmerizing views, healing the body/mind/soul collectively. There was little else to do once back in Laung Namtha, so I planned to go to Nong Khiaw by bus next.
