Stubborn & Hell-Bent Following that guiding force ...

I’m sitting here in an internet café in Luang Prabang beside a young monk in his beautiful saffron robe. Life is strange to say the least. Luang Prabang is a city filled with French colonial architecture set amongst vibrant markets where it is not uncommon to see chopped up snakes, cows feet, and a fresh selection of coagulated water buffalo blood. Laos has the unenviable distinction of being the most heavily bombed place on earth … yet not a face here would reveal a hint of unhappiness. No matter which angel I approach it, I cannot figure out how they mange to be one of the least developed countries, set amongst a tragedy of bombs, and yet still manage to be some of the happiest people I’ve ever met in my life. And this is not a false happiness, it is a happiness that is pure, strong, and clearly unshakable. My journey to Laos was in itself quite a mission and my arrival here was long awaited. I left Thailand at 10pm some night (days cease to exist here) and took a mini bus to the border of Laos through the most hellish roads I’ve experienced yet. I arrived at the border the next morning where I boarded a small boat to cross the river and border into Laos. From there I boarded yet another boat which I was on for 8 hours traveling down the Mekong River on a boat filled with locals and foreigners alike. As our boat docked for the night at a small village, I was granted my first glimpse into the life and culture of Laos, where we had to climb up a steep mud hill while weaving in and out of town folks who were simultaneously trying to sell us a guesthouse along with bags of opium. “Hey you, I have guesthouse … and opium. You want?” It’s wrong that I heard that enough for it to lose all meaning. The poverty was a slap in the face, something I don’t think I could have been prepared for. It’s hard to see especially in the children, yet everyone keeps moving and continues to work together, forming a communal environment and drawing strength from each other.

Day two on the boat began early and was another 8 hour journey. Traveling by boat is quite simply one of the best ways to travel, slowly down the river with a view of the fishing villages and life along the water. We stopped at many places along the way where people would get on the boat carrying everything from the kitchen sink (literally) to the family motorbike. While sitting with my feet hanging in the water I looked up to see a dead body floating by me, slung over a piece of wood. For whatever reason, I was not disturbed or shocked by this, it seemed natural and peaceful. I asked a local about the customs of death within their culture, if someone dies of natural causes along the river, they are set free to float, what could be more natural than that? Strange what traveling does to you, so many things become normal, unforeign, and after you see things enough times, you just simply get used to them and accept them without judgment.

I am becoming more adventurous as the days go by, eating the street food and trying my first shot of Lao Lao – homemade whiskey that is brewed in a large glass jar filled with snakes, lizards, unidentifiable insects, and wild jungle herbs. Apparently it makes you “strong like bull”. Personally I'm just thankful that there is less of a chance of encountering these creatures outside of the jar!

Aside from the snake brew and cows feet, Laos also offers the key to my heart – a good bottle of French wine, cheese and baguettes. Nothing like a true Southeast Asian experience! The world is a strange and jumbled place, it is a true rarity to find a culture that is pure. The Comforts of home are never too far away, yet they are always just slightly off.

So here I sit, amongst the fields of opium, the floating dead, the technologically advanced monks, snake brew, and French wine, in a peacefully bombed country of the happiest tragic people … the paradoxes of life are everywhere, an oxymoronic experience lies waiting around every corner…