Buddha Day

The first full moon after the Lunar New Year 14 days later is the day where devout Buddhists and followers (and me) assemble in the temples to honour their teachers, an annual event heralded by louder and longer prayer drums at 4am and continuing throughout the day with prayers and parades.

So tonight under the bright shining light of the milky white moon and under the shadow of the illuminated hilltop temple I was truly privileged to be allowed to join in the worship. Offered flowers and instructions by locals-this is the time to be happy and kind to strangers, though to me everyone is here anyway-I sat cross legged among the novice monks whilst the senior monk recited verses and chanted. Then we rose as one, holding flaming candles aloft, and followed the singing orange clad choirs around the temple walls, leaving offerings for Buddha along the way.

Tonight was what I came for, the moment that will stay with me for ever, the memory which overbalances the hardships, the stress, the fatigue. I shall never forget this evening.

I had no camera, nor did I want one, this was the time to watch, to sense, to savour and to remember.

There are pictures for today though, from the earlier part of the day-very early in fact as I started at dawn! I had booked to visit the Pak Si caves, centuries old caves now full of hundreds of Buddha statues left by worshippers over the years, and which can only be reached by river.

I had not known it was Buddha day when I booked, but this was no bad thing, as the drums which normally only last for about 10 minutes at 4am today were still continuing at 6am so I was awake anyway! Collected by tuk tuk in the chilly mountain dawn I clambered down into the ‘boat’ for the two hour trip.

‘Boat’ is not really accurate, although we did stay afloat. Three sections of previous crafts had been bolted together, each held two ancient bus seats nailed to the floor, with 6 of us on board we were inches from the rushing water. As you can see from the pictures, both boat and driver’s cockpit were very primitive…look carefully and you may spot the animal skulls hanging from the roof, and the glued on scooter mirror-not that he ever used it anyway.

The Landing Stage

Captain's cabin

The river is spectacularly low. The photos show how high the houses are in the wet season, now separated from the river by endless steps. During the dry season the villagers use the banks for temporary market gardens, living alongside their produce. Fishing farms appear on the sand banks, make shift communities live in the middle of the current on the protruding rocks.

Temporary Hut at the waters edge

Steps up the bank - its the Dry Season

This is not a journey for the faint hearted or anyone suffering motion sickness! The cave itself is also up yet more stairs carved into the rock face but worth the climb. Surprisingly moving to see hundreds of Buddha sculptures of diverse media from the size of my finger upwards, lined up in every crevice and pushed into every crack. Altars have appeared at ground level in the lower cave, as you can from the photo of me (in my newly purchased mossie protection trousers!) sitting exhausted on one!

Where's Buddha?

The boat ride back was exhilarating if exhausting! Luckily my habit of partaking in the customary siesta came in useful today as it gave me the stamina to engage with the evening parade, for which I am incredibly thankful.

And yes, Valentines Day is celebrated here too, so along with blossom offerings are red roses for love, a lucky coincidence which many young worshippers in the temple told me will make it a truly special year!

Waterfalls and Bears

Today I finally got to visit the famous Kuang Si waterfalls and the bear rescue centre housed in the grounds. Totally overwhelming, far better than expected, and yes, I swam under the falls in the milky white creamy waters, another life experience chalked up!

The ride up winds through mountain valleys dotted with rice fields and market gardens. The hillside is dark green forest with splashes of purple blossom, the rocks of the high peaks tower above us on all sides.

As the bus climbs up higher and higher the temples of Luang Prabang disappear into the distance. Bullocks take shelter from the sun under trees, clusters of wooden shacks pass in the dust, each with their own school where children sit in the open air to learn.

The road to the waterfall is lined with stalls selling fruit shakes, crepes, spicy fruits and the Laos delicacy, barbecued meats with noodles or rice on the side. Sweet potato chips were fine for me, given the still fragile nature of my digestive system…

The steep trek on slippery paths and rocks to the falls was worth every step, a sudden stunning cascade dropping from the sky as high as the eye can see.

Kuang Si waterfalls

Inbetween the rushing water were still ponds suitable for swimming, impossible to resist.

Time for a swim

In I went my camera and bag guarded by an English couple who turned out to come from Lewes!! And she does zumba in Kingston, so for those who also do, please say hallo to the tanned lady recently returned from Laos (I didn’t catch her name) as they are due back in 10 days-I will no doubt see her again in Waitrose. The world is truly creepily small…..

The Asian black bear sanctuary at the bottom of the falls is a developing rescue centre for bears which have been confiscated by the Government here from being used in illegal poaching and trading; most end up in the ‘bile farms’ which is so sad. There is little land so far for the 23 bears but the charity hopes to raise money for more land and raise the profile of the plight of the bears. As you can see from the pictures, they are well cared for here and used to people again rather than terrified.

Asian Black Bears

On the way back we stopped at the ethnic minority Hmong village where toddlers wear the formal dress to encourage passers by to buy home made crafts.

 There is a high level of poverty here but also a genuine happiness. I paused to glance at the communal shower, then felt a voyeur. However, the women laughed, gestured that I should take a photo, and then gestured I should join them. I did one but not the other!

Shower time

As dark falls tonight I am typing on the communal balcony guarded by a mosquito coil given by generous backpackers and reflecting on this peaceful place still barely tainted by tourism. How long it can remain untouched like this remains unseen. It may be tough as a tourist here (alas, my sticky rice/fried tofu ‘comfort padding’ has faded away, I do wish chairs had cushions and the mattress was padded…) but it is also a joy.

Felled!

Finally felled by Laos belly. Don’t all laugh at once.

It just serves me right for thinking I can eat anything! It could have been anything from the fruit shakes –with ice-to the roadside buffet –more likely-to simply doing too much in the heat.

So Tuesday instead of taking off for the waterfalls with friends here I was curled up in a darkened room. Funnily enough, it proved therapeutic. I slept deeply for hours. Travellers fatigue is wearing; it was inevitable that my body would give in sooner or later.

Fortunately the funeral party next-door has wound down. This morning the casket with the ashes was carried off with much ceremony to the sound of banging drums…the outdoor cinema has been cleared away, and peace has descended on the neighbourhood. In the quiet I can hear the prayer drums echoing, the chickens calling, dogs barking, and the chatter of families…

Wednesday and I am feeling better, though food and drink are an issue. Consequently my energy levels are low, but psychologically I’m fine. A long slow walk to the bamboo bridge over the Mekong inlet –the main river is kilometres wide-and into the textile and paper villages inland.

The bamboo bridges disappear in the wet season, so as they are now balanced precariously high above the rushing water, this must be a very different place in the monsoon.

The traditional arts of weaving, wood carving and paper making continue as they have for centuries. Here are not the tourist sites I’ve seen before; these are wooden shacks where women and men sit and ply their trade, offering free water and hot tea from their tables, with no pressure to buy, instead a gentle pride in their skills and a delight in showing off their wares.

I am learning more about Buddhism here than ever before. The seven days of the week Buddha statues are everywhere here (as I understand it Buddha spent 7 days following his enlightenment reflecting on the suffering of others/how unimportant life was before)..And here, as in Thailand, the day you were born is significant. I was born on Monday, which means I am serious, with a good memory, and a love of travel. Not sure about the good memory nowadays! Funnily enough, my unlucky colour is orange, which I have always disliked…

Given my present lethargic state, I’m most empathetic at present with the pose for Tuesday, the reclining Buddha…I too have been lying down but methinks I do not resemble the gold figures, large and small, which are dotted around/tower above me.

There are hundreds of Buddha poses; I can recognise the hands raised in calming pose, the gestures of reconciliation, the receiving of succour, but beyond that it’s still a mystery…

The Buddhism practised here is Theravada Buddhism, the oldest form (‘the teaching of the elders ;) with traits of animism (belief in spirits) and Hinduism, plus there are also catholic churches in the south (though none in luang prabang). This I have garnered from the novice monks who hurry towards me to speak English!

I now know that the incense burning intricate ‘mini temples’ outside every dwelling are actually spirit houses. Built at eye level, they are a home for the house’s spirit, keeping him safe and content so he will protect the family (hence the fact that the one here has an umbrella shading it from the sun). Some are literally dolls houses, full of miniature figures, more contain fresh flowers and food replaced daily for the well being of the spirit.

This too is a communist country, but unlike Vietnam there is little evidence bar the Peoples Democratic Republic of Laos on signs. The Royal Palace here is now a museum (the monarchy was disbanded in 1975) but there is an obvious love and respect for the royal family and their possessions are treasured and guarded –the same rules apply when visiting as a temple, I had to don longer sleeves here than in the ‘Wat’.

I love this ‘city’…though it is about the size of Lewes, more markets than shops, few brick built buildings, dominated by the mighty Mekong, mountains and temples. Tourism is in its infancy, fellow travellers I spoke to today were wondering how long though this would be the case, especially if transport links improve-at the minute UNESCO is protecting the valley, but who knows??

Alas, as tourism is in its infancy, standards of hospitality are not up to western ideals, and I’ve had to get used to a more basic way of life.  Whilst I’m used to the wet bathroom/low power shower which is common in Asia, and this guest house has comparatively high standards; hot water, cable television and, vitally,  air conditioning, plus a hearty breakfast -which alas I have not enjoyed with my usual gusto due to stomach issues!!- the bed is rock hard,  which I find very hard, and its all rather hit and miss diy wise.

For example, last night the precariously balanced sink (no cement here) collapsed. I had the entire host family in here chattering away unintelligibly equipped with head torches, sticks and carving knives to fix it. Memo to self, do not lean on the sink.

Sheets are never changed (thank god I brought my sleeping bag liner), no toilet paper is provided (though I do get a roll if I ask nicely due to being middle aged, middle class and English ;) ) as its not used here, nor is soap, after the first bar, but the towels are changed daily; the power has stayed on so far, the wifi is free and usually working, so by Luang Prabang standards I gather this is a bargain. It’s always full with a variety of ages, from the Oz backpackers next door to the elderly couple on the other side, everyone is friendly whatever age/nationality/ so bizarrely its began to feel like home!

Lazy languid Luang Prabang

This town is so laid back it’s unbelievable. Browsing the night market stalls on my way home tonight I had to wake up the vendor as I was keen to haggle for some baggy cotton pants, cool and good for mossie protection, if not exactly flattering. I got them for 40,000 kip, which is a better bet than buying more insect repellent!

Fortunately, as I now know, there is an 11.30 curfew here, so sleeping turns out to be easier than anticipated, especially as no one seems to stir again until at least 8.30am. This hotel has a lovely shady communal balcony which I made good use of today, lunchtime siesta just seems natural here.

As I type outside the funeral outside has developed another dimension. The casket which was ceremoniously carried out yesterday on a lorry escorted by monks and smartly dressed family has now been replaced by what looks like a wooden shed, brightly decorated with strings of flashing lights-rather reminiscent of Santa’s grotto. The communal television has now been replaced by a screen (did he have insurance, I wonder!) but I am now so used to the ‘noises off’ –action films are the rage-that I barely notice and the circus below is proving quite a treat.

Ok-the above has now in minutes been superseded by a band of traditional musicians escorted by monks-the drums are deafening but on the whole it’s preferable to unintelligible film dialogue, though less volume would be good-the lizards who were basking contently in the balcony lights ran for cover and two enormous locusts/crickets dropped from the wooden ceiling!

I’ve got to know the town on foot today and also got to know the local people, who are truly kind. Completely lost, a tuc tuc driver stopped to offer business but I’d seen yesterday I could walk everywhere –eventually-so politely refused. Bless him when he realised I was ‘ancient’ , he escorted me to my destination on foot, keen to give me a free ride to save my legs-I was too embarrassed to accept!

Laos even more than Vietnam treats older women and men with a reverence which now is a privilege, I adore it in place of my original indignation.

A tour of the Royal Palace was an unexpected delight-the walls of the former throne room are lined with Japanese glass mosaic murals describing tales from Laos, walls and walls of extravagant spectrums of glowing glinting colours.

Then up the many many steps to the tiny ancient wat at the top of the hill which towers over the area. I’ve attached a picture of the temple, a miniature altar in a cell on the mount.

The climb winds around Buddha’s at every turn, past the cave which holds the ‘imprint of the Buddha’s foot’ according to belief, and, rather disconcertingly in the sea of golden statues and orange clad monks going about their business in the monastery buildings lining the steps, tiger motifs, see pic-the symbol of Luang Prabang.

As the sun dropped behind the mountains, good natured crowds gathered at the rock peak. And what a show, accompanied by the monks prayer drum heralding the night.

Languidly wandering back through the night market, sipping fruit and yoghurt shake, I could not resist buying the trousers…whether I will attach a picture of me wearing them remains to be seen!!

Luang Prabang - Laos

This is the most beautiful place. Like Chang Mai in Thailand without the crowds, like the Gili Islands in Lombok but in a town. The mountains which surround the town, nestled in a wide bend in the mighty Mekong, reflect the sunshine on every colour from the gold temple splendour to the bright flower filled streets, a deep hue shimmers in the heat.

Despite the ‘wake’ –apparently as mark of respect everyone gathers for three days in the house of the deceased to keep the soul company, I could see the coffin at the rear of the open house front whilst the party goers watched television-I slept like a log (or maybe because of the ‘company’, who knows!). Awaking refreshed to a breakfast of a banana pancake the size of which I have never seen the like, a fluffy tribute to a dinner plate, plus mango shake and Laos coffee which is thankfully not as bitter as Vietnamese, my normal equilibrium was restored.

In keeping with my normal instincts, I eschewed the wat (temple) tour (32 in not many square kilometres, every other person here is an orange clad Buddhist monk) and borrowed a rickety bicycle to explore. Wide streets, friendly smiles and the wonderful colours of the riverbank, fresh air from the mountains despite the 30 plus degree heat, a fabulous contrast to Hanoi’s city chaos.

As pics show, the river is the lifeblood of the town, everyone from monks to villagers wash/bath here, it is criss crossed with bamboo bridges to temples towering up the hillside, lined with both tourist restaurants and local haunts-I enjoyed a superb mango shake for the grand total of 6,000 kip: (50,000 is about £3.75, so not very much)-its soo cheap here.

Monks in the River

Bridges everywhere

The evening sunset was best summed up by the words of a fellow traveller, who as the sun finally disappeared behind the peaks, turned to me and said ‘what a show’. Monks, tourists and residents alike watch in silence as the golden orb slips down and a scarlet haze descends over us.  Long narrow boats laden with locals carrying their wares chug across the slow moving waters, fishermen wade into the darkening seas to pull up nets. 

Sunset over the River

As night falls the main thoroughfare becomes a gentle paced market. Wandering through in peace with no pressure to buy is a sheer pleasure. Any and everything can be found here; so cheaply it will be hard not to spend money, only the limited space and weight in my rucksack prevents, which is a shame!

Supper was a delicious vegetarian buffet for 10,000 kip. I like this place!!

Farewell banquet in Hanoi

My last day in Hanoi and a farewell lunch arranged by Hanc and her friend Rachel at a popular Vietnamese restaurant which specialises in traditional cuisine from across the country.

As you can see from the pics, we ordered tons, dishes from the South, sticky rice –oh memories of breakfast on the rooftop terrace in Saigon, rice paper vegetable rolls with egg pancake, famous in Hoi An and Hue, and tofu from the North, with tiny dishes of what tasted like croutons on rice shells, bowls of fish sauce and papaya salad, and for them meat creations beyond description. Washed down with star fruit juice and followed by desert of rice milk tea.

Hanc and Rachel

Now that was an experience! I shall miss Hanc and her family and friends, who have welcomed me, a total stranger, into their lives and been so generous with their hospitality.

I shall not miss Hanoi though- now normal life has resumed it is manic here, impossible to function on foot and hard to be a tourist at a time when everyone wants to make money after the break. The oddest scam-looking down to find a man trying to remove my sandal! He insisted it was broken and he a) would mend it or b) get me another pair. I stamped on his hand. I won!

But without Hanc the hassle here is hard to deal with. Ordinary folk are lovely-walking to the west lake in the late afternoon, eating ice cream with families, everyone was smiling, laughing, showing me where to get ‘kem’ (ice cream), moving up to offer me a seat by the waters edge. Among a multitude of memories, the main legacy I shall take away from Vietnam is the sheer kindness and friendliness of the people.

Normal life in Hanoi

Wow, this is a different place today!  The endless Tet holiday has finally formally ended, but the ‘echo’ will rumble on until Feb 14th, when the lunar celebration which usually takes place on the 14th is symbolically marked being the first of the new year.

The civil governances and private businesses are open again; the daily commute has filled the roads, a nightmare blur of moving vehicles silhouetted in grey mist of exhaust fumes! The pavements, such as they are, if you can dodge the holes, street sellers, and their boiling pans, kettles, grills, and the fact that every inch is actually a parking spot, are quieter though. The festival parades around the lake and into the temples has ended; there was an almost forlorn feel in the air as I walked back tonight beneath the bright Tet illuminations.

This morning the noise from the road below was a real alarm call, what has been a dull rumble is now a roar; and this is a quiet lane!  Off to the Fine Arts Museum to immerse myself in culture. Whilst this has much that is similar to those in Saigon, the collections were far more diverse; split by media rather than subject. The traditional art forms of silk painting, lacquer painting, wood carving, displayed the generic themes of tradition, revolution and nostalgia through each medium. There is an insightful English inscription with telling notes: on the first floor featuring Buddhist images from centuries ago, it was suggested that artists used a holy image to allow them to do portrait work, which makes sense given the multi faceted faces I’ve seen over the years!

This afternoon I visited my friend Thao at her work for the Japan Foundation, as I had promised, a small request I was happy to grant as she has been so lovely to me. Her offices in this charity working for inter country understanding is in an economically wealthier area of the city, opposite a small shop with a window display featuring an English church in winter, merry xmas signs and a Father Christmas.
Very bizarre!!

There is a large ex-pat community here though, this area had not just this but a cupcake shop and trendy coffee bars featuring western coffee brands…when I asked for a Vietnamese iced coffee the waitress was very puzzled, was I sure I did not want a cappuccino??

Hanoi lacks behind Saigon in the fitness department, but a new gym is opening, Fusion bodyworks, with much fanfare. Yes, I joined in the open air zumba session, to the absolute delight of those few dancers who were sooo impressed I knew the steps, its exactly the same as Lewes-needless to say I did not look like those in the pic, but the audience , see other pic, were equally bemused. Apparently I made such an impression I will be in their publicity brochure and online, I daren’t look!!!

Zumba anyone?

Crowd watching Zumba

Flushed, literally, with success and sweat, I continued the cultural theme of the day with a visit to the Vietnam National Tuong Theatre.  This is a government funded group to continue the repertoire of the Tuong plays performed for hundreds of years. In the carnival genre, with mime, exotic costumes, grand themes of love, death and birth (I loved the dance of the lion giving birth), much melodrama, all accompanied by musicians skilfully playing bizarre instruments, well worth the 100,000 dong (about £3) for the ticket, which also included as much hot jasmine tea as one could drink…which, in true Vietnamese fashion, can be taken into the theatre, there are simply no health and safety rules here at all!

Scenes from traditional Tuong Plays

Lion Dance