he rough and tumble world of Laos was quite a change after Thailand. Only open to foreigners for the last five years, it hasn't developed a broad tourism infrastructure, and foreigners are still somewhat of a novelty. Being unreserved, casual sorts of people, Laotians smile grandly and say "hello" (Sabadee) in a manner that says, "Welcome friend". Children run up to you giggling out the words, "Hello Foreigner!" in Lao. It is the type of place where we felt immediately comfortable, despite the fact that most of the comforts of home were missing.
e experienced an unusual (at least for us) discomfort on our first full day in Laos. We boarded a "slow boat" to float down the Mekong river to the village of Pakbeng some 8-10 hours away in a rocky canyon. Full of people, gear, and cargo, we pulled out of port shortly before noon. Travelling down the "Mighty Mekong" was a history lesson in itself.
or years, Laos has remained one of the most isolated, least developed countries
in Asia. In fact, entering some parts of the Lao People’s Democratic Republic
is like stepping into a time machine set to 1900, or earlier. Until recently,
few paved roads existed in the country outside of the capital, Vientiane.
Other than Vientiane and the historical capital, Luang Prabang, many Laotians
have little access to television, radio and print media. Rural aid projects have
brought limited electricity and amenities to some, but not all.
ost Lao people still live a primarily rural existence of subsistence agriculture. Most travel little and almost none become international tourists. The rivers running through this sleepy tropical place seem to be for some the only lifeline to the outside world, or at least the next village downstream. As we moved along, we saw children playing, goods being ferried to and fro, fishermen searching for the evening meal, and the occasional gold panner hoping for fortune.
he sun faded, families took evening baths in the water, and we began to wonder when our river journey would end. As dusk turned to night, our boat pulled up to a sandy shore. This had happened throughout the day as passengers and cargo were either let off or received. The engine sputtered out, and a Lao woman told us tourists, "No Pakbeng". We thought she meant that where we had stopped wasn't Pakbeng. As we looked at her, she clarified herself by saying, "Sleep here". A few lanterns were lit and candles were passed out. We realized that the boat had no lights to navigate the rocky waters the last part of the way. We hunkered down for the night. One could have peeled away the lid of the boat and mistaken us all for sardines. It was this formation that guaranteed the warmth of us all.
he rough and tumble world of Laos was quite a change after Thailand. Only open to foreigners for the last five years, it hasn't developed a broad tourism infrastructure, and foreigners are still somewhat of a novelty. Being unreserved, casual sorts of people, Laotians smile grandly and say "hello" (Sabadee) in a manner that says, "Welcome friend". Children run up to you giggling out the words, "Hello Foreigner!" in Lao. It is the type of place where we felt immediately comfortable, despite the fact that most of the comforts of home were missing.
e experienced an unusual (at least for us) discomfort on our first full day in Laos. We boarded a "slow boat" to float down the Mekong river to the village of Pakbeng some 8-10 hours away in a rocky canyon. Full of people, gear, and cargo, we pulled out of port shortly before noon. Travelling down the "Mighty Mekong" was a history lesson in itself.
or years, Laos has remained one of the most isolated, least developed countries
in Asia. In fact, entering some parts of the Lao People’s Democratic Republic
is like stepping into a time machine set to 1900, or earlier. Until recently,
few paved roads existed in the country outside of the capital, Vientiane.
Other than Vientiane and the historical capital, Luang Prabang, many Laotians
have little access to television, radio and print media. Rural aid projects have
brought limited electricity and amenities to some, but not all.
ost Lao people still live a primarily rural existence of subsistence agriculture. Most travel little and almost none become international tourists. The rivers running through this sleepy tropical place seem to be for some the only lifeline to the outside world, or at least the next village downstream. As we moved along, we saw children playing, goods being ferried to and fro, fishermen searching for the evening meal, and the occasional gold panner hoping for fortune.
