Vientiane – three pairs of pants

18 November 201526 January 2018

Day 65 (Wed 18 Nov): Vientiane (COPE, Wat Si Muang, presidential palace)

COPE is a centre for the rehabilitation of those affected by Unexploded Ordnance (UXO). In many cases, simple things can make a huge difference to people’s lives, but one of the challenges is that they don’t know about it, so don’t seek help.

Per capita, Laos (People’s Democratic Republic of) is the most bombed country in the history of the world. Forty years after the war ended, its legacy is still all too clear.

In 1953, Laos PDR gained independence, but a civil war broke out the following year. Despite the Geneva Accord designating Laos a neutral territory with no military presence, the CIA covertly set up a military base in northern Laos. In 1964, despite no declaration of war, President Johnson launched a full-scale military offensive.

Their crime? Being neighbours with Vietnam. More specifically, bordering the HCM Trail which served as an arterial route. So, in order to “reduce North Vietnam” aggression, the US bombed Laos. Indiscriminately. According to one ex-pilot they were told to bomb anything that moved even though, by his own admission, they didn’t know what it was that was moving.

There were 580,000 bombing campaigns – that’s one every 8 minutes, 24 hours a day for 9 years. Over 2 million tons of ordnance fell on Laos during the Vietnam war, and it’s estimated that one third of it didn’t explode. That’s 80 million bombs potentially waiting to go off. It’s known as Unexploded Ordnance (UXO) and includes “all munitions and mines that have explosive, incendiary and pyrotechnic or gas filling which have not functioned as they were designed.”

Cluster bombs are a particular problem. A cluster bomb is a large canister dropped from a plane that opens and scatters small bombs (or “bombies” as they’re know in Laos):

Unfortunately, they have a high failure rate, leaving bomblets scattered over large swathes of the country posing an ever-present threat to civilians long after the conflict. Large bombs were also dropped.

Mapping the extent of UXO is an on-going task, but here are some best-estimated “facts”:

whilst the major urban centres have been cleared, approximately 25% of villages in Laos are contaminated
More than 50,000 people were killed or injured by UXO between 1964 and 2011
About 40% of these were children
One third of the land in Laos is thought to be contaminated with UXO
It takes one team 10 days to clear an area 100m x 100m
It is estimated that 84,000 square kilometres need clearing
That means it’ll take one team (working every day of the year) 2,300 years to clear Laos

UXO is keeping Laos poor. People are, funnily enough, reluctant to undertake building or farming on uncleared land. So they can’t expand and generate more income. And, of course, as rain falls and land moves, so does the UXO.

“Bomb Harvest” was a fascinating documentary which followed an Australian munitions expert as he trained Laotian people to deal with UXO. “They dropped the bombs. They don’t belong to us and I want them to take them back,” said one boy who’d lost his friend to UXO. From the mouths of babes.

Earlier this year, the US pledged to increase funding to $15 million to support the dozen groups working in Laos on demining, victim assistance and risk education. Many other countries (including Britain, you’ll be pleased to know) have also provided funding.

So the Laotians just have to wait and, eventually, their country will be cleared, right? Wrong. It’s not that simple. Never is, is it? Firstly, the size of the problem is enormous (but as yet unquantified). And secondly, because the scrap metal in one of those large bombs will feed an entire family for three months, some Laotians proactively hunt for it, foraging in the countryside sometimes even using metal detectors. One third failed to explode, but that means two thirds did. And of the unexploded bombs, not all will be live. Imagine finding one of those babies and leaving it alone, only to see your neighbour safely take it away and sell it for scrap. Forage for food for a day, or forage for metal that’ll keep you for weeks or even months? The price of scrap metal makes the risk worth it. When a bomb is found and disposed of, the community have mixed feelings. I’ll never forget the look on the young girl’s face as she watched a large bomb being carried away: distress, disbelief, longing, confusion as the gold nugget was taken from them.

Have you ever seen those pictures of a tree that’s grown to be part of a house? How foreign objects have been incorporated into and consumed by the environment around them? In the same way, scrap metal from the bombs has become integrated into the Laotian’s lives. From cutlery and cooking utensils, to garden gates and prosthetic limbs (poignantly, often required because of a UXO accident), metal left over from the war provides another material for these practical, resourceful people.

So organisations also work to curb the scrap metal trade, and educate local people. Not only do they need to find and make the UXO safe, they need to do it before the local people get to it.

The end of the documentary summed it up, and brings tears to my eyes even as I type it now: “Some legacies must end so others can begin.”

Colour. That’s the first thing that hits you when you go into this temple:

It felt more alive, with people (and animals and cars (in fact, lots and lots of cars)), going about their lives. And then I noticed the strings coming from a group service. It took a little while for me to work out (the sunlight made it difficult to trace their course) that the strings were going from the worshippers’ wrists to their car steering wheels:

Inside the central temple (or “sim” as it’s called), the walls and ceiling were ornately decorated:

Monks were performing rituals on paying worshippers. It involved throwing water from a long-haired “brush” (well, not exactly a brush, but a serious of thin, wooden strands – they may have been concertinaed), over their bowed head whilst chanting. A short length of cord was then placed ceremoniously round their wrist, tied and the loose ends cut off. I’m not entirely sure of the significance, I’m afraid – another example of when knowing the language would have enhanced my understanding:

Hampers were also on offer, including a torch (?!):

Another emerald Buddha – they’re actually pretty impressive in the “flesh”:

Cats have really short tails here. Not sure whether it’s the breed, or whether they cut them off when they’re kittens:

And this very pretty bug took a liking to my T-shirt (this quite accurately sums up the state of my T-shirt – it attracts bugs):

The “Palais Presidential” was a presidential palace. I’m guessing he/she lives there because the gates were closed and guarded, so a photo of this rather impressive building from outside will have to suffice:

Back at the hostel, I prepared for my sleeper bus to Pakse. I was assured that this one had flat beds (I wasn’t going to go through the Vietnam experience again), and the photos actually made it look reasonably comfortable. What they failed to tell me was that you only get one half of the bed. Cramped was an understatement. And spooning with a stranger is too much, too soon. As the ticket was cheap and bed itself actually quite comfortable, I decided that I’d do it again… but would buy both beds!

17 November 201526 January 2018

Day 64 (Tue 17 Nov): Vientiane (national museum, Patuxay, That Luang, Wat Sisaket)

Today was an information fest.

Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating. Arriving at the National Museum with low expectations may have helped, but the first section on human evolution in the region was brilliant, consisting of very interesting information about the development of humans in general and in this region in particular:

As well as some dinosaur bones:

But the best thing was the objective reporting. They were really clear on what I was looking at, what was original, what assumptions had been made, what they did/didn’t know and why and where best-guesses had been made (and why). It was a breath of fresh air.

Here’s what I learnt:

Excavations in Laos yielded evidence of Neolithic, and potentially Paleolithic, human habitation
One skeleton existed before 6190 +/- 40 BP, so more than 6000 years ago, and was found in the foetal position which was typical of burials previously observed in the region
When digging a golf green, a large jar was unearthed. Inside a baby had been buried, with jewellery, beads and probably textiles, food and other materials (long since departed). Was it the child of rich parents? Or did the elaborate burial reflect the parents’ grief? Unfortunately, we cannot know from the remaining evidence (see, clear reporting), but “it gives us a unique opportunity to meet the Lao Pako people, and to see their expressions of fundamental human feelings of love and grief.”

The Plain of Jars has been dated 300 BCE to 300 CE. I’m hoping to visit this on my way to Luang Prabang, so will cover more of it then, but it’s thought to be an ancient cemetery. One theory (with subsequent supporting evidence) is that the jars are burial urns for human remains and grave offerings (including beads from India and China, as it was a hotly-contested area being a key trade route between countries). As there are also smaller jars, it is thought that the less wealthy were cremated, with stone jars for the aristocracy; another theory is that remains were first interred in the giant urns, sealed with carved lids, and then later disinterred, cremated and buried in the earthenware jars. A further legend (not substantiated) is that the jars were used to make rice beer to celebrate military victory. It’s worth noting that the area is still contaminated with Unexploded Ordnance (UXO), donated by the Americans.

Buddha’s now-familiar figure was strangely comforting. There was one with him under Naga (as Buddha was meditating, he was caught by a raging storm, so the serpent king emerged and unfurled his hood to protect him). Interestingly, it was noted as being a gift from a Jean-Francois Rottelear in 2002, further evidence of the trade in other countries’ ancient artefacts. Fair play on him for returning it, though.

And my favourite Ganesha. Quick recap: he’s the son of Shiva, who chopped his head off in a rage and replaced it with that of the first animal that came past. A remover of obstacles and the god of knowledge, today I also learnt that his pot belly betrays his predilection for sweets (which he’s using his trunk to snaffle from a pot in his hand):

Another Buddha’s gently slipping shoulders and pot belly represent old age, and his most unusual aspect was his two-hands-down position – giving his last teaching. Only one Buddha in every 100,000 is in this “provocative death pose”, apparently:

The Buddha cave is actually from the 1970s when Laotians put them in there to protect them from bombs.

The also now-familiar Linga (with a square base representing Brahma, the octagonal middle for Vishnu and the rounded top section for Shiva, which represents his generative role in creation):

I also learnt that the font is called a “yoni” and represents “the feminine principle of power” – nurture and fertility:

The textile section wasn’t quite so interesting, only because I’m not so interested in it, but there were a few things that caught my eye:

The body-tensioned loom (I think there’s a photo of someone using one of these somewhere, on my trip with Hai, I recall) is not only difficult to use, but puts lots of strain on the user’s body. It’s been abandoned by many cultures as it’s associated with miscarriages and premature births – eek!

Baylane are palm-leaf manuscripts popular during Lane Xang period, and contain religious texts, folk tales, history, traditional law, astrology, magic mythology and traditional medicine:

In the next section was a model of Pha That Luang – the most important national monument in Laos, and a symbol of Buddhist religion and Lao sovereignty. I plan to see this later.

Gold and silver Buddhas from C14-17 unearthed during excavations, were put on display and then promptly stolen (hence the metal cabinet):

The accompanying note made the point that it’s evidence of a universal problem of “the illicit trade in art and artefacts, especially from countries with a rich cultural heritage and limited resources to protect them.” That’ll be Lao, then.

I was getting a little tired by this point, and the English translations were petering out, so I’m not entirely sure why there were busts and summaries of Lenin and HCM. However, I learnt more about the latter in their one side of A4 than I did in the Vietnamese museum of his name. I wondered if maybe the Laotians could please do a National Museum of Vietnam?!

And then things went back to normal in the war section – lots of photographs, provocative captions and no explanation:

After some musical instruments (no info):

… the exhibition ended with the familiar upbeat, positive outlook how the country is emerging from its troubles.

Patuxay

Firstly, it’s worth taking on board these instructions:

Then to the “Victory Gate” built in 1962 but never completed due to the country’s “turbulent history” (i.e. getting bombed to oblivion):

The plaque’s observations that “from a closer distance, it appears even less impressive, like a monster of concrete” was another breath of honesty. I do feel, however, that they’re being a bit harsh as the ceiling displayed some impressive decoration along with the lower concrete walls:

It took a while for me to note that it hadn’t been restored. And there was a good view of the city from the seventh floor:

… although getting up there required traipsing through more souvenir stalls. But still no hassling, so I don’t mind in the slightest.

This is what a temple under construction looks like:

And, for a country that people kept telling me was “less advanced” than those around it (that’ll be the bombing again), I’ve seen little evidence of this. For instance, they’ve plans for a smoke-free capital, which to me seems two steps ahead of Vietnam.

That Luang:

… where I encountered some racial discrimination:

I’m not entirely sure of the legality of this, charging me more because of my race, but I’m pretty sure it’s not allowed. Whether it’s not allowed in Lao is another matter. It’s kinda like saying you can enter the Tower of London for £15 if you’re white, but if you’ve dark skin, you have to pay £45. Except it’s not really, because they’re actually discriminating based on wealth, and the difference is 24p. Can’t really begrudge them, so I willingly paid my 5000K and went in.

Lots of stone relics:

Some Linga, and I noticed that all Buddhas were headless – from the Thai invasion (they were Hindu, if you remember):

A child’s poster on wall was more on my level and I took a photo as I think it’ll be useful later on:

Wat Sisaket

They seem to refer to their temples as “museums”. Not entirely sure why, or if it’s a slight mistranslation.

Built in 1818 during the reign of the last king of the Lane Xang kingdom, King Anouvong, Wat Sisaket was destroyed in the war. The present construction dates from 1935 (I told you they were a bit more upfront about all this):

Their Buddhas had heads:

… but unfortunately, no accompanying information.

And I think these are female Buddhas. Someone a while back mentioned that there was a lady Buddha, but I hadn’t seen one up until now. I noticed that all the ones with breasts didn’t have a spike on their hat:

But it was when I saw the hips on this standing one that I became pretty sure she was female:

And then to the That, or “stupa”, which is a funerial or commemorative monument for relics, originally built to hold a relic of the Buddha. Later it came into use for the ashes of abbotts and kings.

Originally built between 1819 and 1825, it was razed by the Siamese in 1827-8 who forced most of the people into exile across the Mekong river. All of the temples were destroyed apart from Wat Sisaket. As such, it’s the oldest Wat in the city.

But it’s deteriorating, so the Germans have stepped in to help. I just hope their techniques have improved since they got their hands on Angkor Wat.

And then back to my hostel for a shower and more planning. And I noticed that I’ve got my mojo back – yay! When I left Vietnam, I wanted to take the slow, easy route. But now I want to explore as much of Laos as I can in the time available. So I’m booked on tomorrow’s sleeper bus. Yeah, I know, but there’s no train and the flight doesn’t actually save me any time; and apparently they’ve westerner-size flat beds, so I thought I’d give it a go. Gulp. Watch this space 🙂

Other random stuff from today:

Another baffling T-shirt slogan to add to the collection (well, I get what it’s saying, but I’m not sure why you’d wear it):

I’m running out of moisturiser, but finding skincare products without whitener is virtually impossible:

And another “someone elsie”:

… before a little collection of “miscellaneous” snaps to finish:

16 November 201526 January 2018

Day 63 (Mon 16 Nov): Hanoi to Vientiane

So long, Vietnam. And thanks for all the fish. And the dogs, ducks, water buffalo, spiders, jelly fish, goats, cats, and caterpillars…

It’s not that I didn’t enjoy Vietnam – on the contrary, it’s provided some of my trip’s highlights – but it was tiring. So difficult to get under the surface. They’ve decided what the tourist experience will be and that’s what you get, although I suspect knowing the language would open up much more. But the people were friendly and welcoming, and I felt safe despite all the horror stories. I wonder whether when those bad things happened, they felt more intense because it’s so out of character for the place. But if I fell asleep on the train with my bag in front of me, I reckon there’d be more chance of it being there when I woke up than if I was in London…

The Vietnamese were more street-savvy than the Cambodians, which maybe added to the sense that, despite them being very smiley and helpful, they’d put a barrier up. Rigid processes were not to be broken and, whilst it’s true the world over that putting someone in a uniform increases their sense of importance, it was marked in Vietnam. Not arrogance, but a “you can’t touch me” attitude.

Traffic in Hanoi (or “Ha Noise” as my two-year-old nephew rather insightfully called it) was loud, but wasn’t as chaotic as I was expecting. Maybe all the stories I’d heard had raised my expectations, maybe I was already used to the bustle which had gradually increased since I hit Siem Reap, maybe my central London baseline was higher than most people’s. Whilst it was loud, it wasn’t aggressive*. And they didn’t drive very fast – not even 30mph – in the cities. The only time I went above 60kph was when I asked the mini-van driver to detour off Highway 1 on the way to Da Nang. Other than that, it was all very civilised.

* For those who know what I’m talking about: taxi horns, etc are a major third, repeated with a diminuendo – it attracts attention but in a non-confrontational way (as opposed to the augmented fourths of the large lorries, which obviously justify a little more urgency).

Can I be honest? I’m getting a little tired of travelling. By that I mean that the constant planning and moving on is very effortful and not relaxing. I worked out that not only have I been moving on quite quickly (Hoi An was my longest stop in Vietnam at four nights, and one of those was in a dive), but the distances involved means that although the journeys are more comfortable than Cambodia, they’re also a lot longer. And on Monday morning, I was regretting booking the early flight from Hanoi, as it meant a 5am start (which actually sounds worse than it is because Asia gets up early anyway and my body clock has adjusted accordingly. I actually rather like it).

And what’s the point of what I’m doing? Fundamentally, it’s to enjoy myself. So I decided that I’d take it easier – and that’s part of the reason I decided to fly straight into Vientiane (central Laos) rather than Pakse (south) – less travelling. It was also because the flight to Pakse was very expensive and stopped in Vientiane anyway 😉

At the airport: universal icons for the correct usage of the drinking water sink:

But not sure what they were trying to communicate with this one (in the aeroplane):

Visa on arrival was relatively painless but time-consuming. One of those things that we’ll tell our grandchildren about and they’ll be confused as to why we needed paper passports and visas. And we’ll refer to it as “the olden days”. Much easier just to do a digital body scan as you walk through and be done with it. Even without that technology (which, of course, has major privacy implications among other things), I can’t help but feel that it’s an area just waiting to be made more efficient…

I like Laos. Yes, I know it’s early days but I just know. It’s not any one thing in particular, but a general sense. For instance, getting a taxi from the airport was blissfully easy: the prices are fixed ($7); you buy a ticket from the information desk and the next driver in the queue picks you up and takes you straight to your accommodation. No scrum, no haggling, no stress 🙂

My taxi driver was really friendly and spoke reasonable English (most on this trip have been limited to only those words required to do their jobs). He kindly taught me the key traveller words (thank you, hello, goodbye, how much? Expensive, Do you have? Numbers 1-10, etc). The language seems much more accessible than Vietnamese (although I believe it’s still tonal). Half an hour later, sat in my room I could physically feel a reduction in stress. I guess I’d been aware of its constant background presence in Vietnam but now that it’s suddenly gone, I’ve realised how much it was affecting me. Not being able to do my own thing like I’d been able to do in Cambodia, always on the tourist trail, the constant pressure to part with my time and my money.

Sat in a street cafe (which, you’ll know by now, really is the only way to eat in Asia) watching the traffic outside, I suddenly became aware of what was missing – horns. Relative silence, by all accounts. Quite a few pick up trucks, which I haven’t seen elsewhere, along with the obligatory scooters and cars. But gone was the constant cacophony of beeps that had accompanied me through Vietnam. Looking up it could have been Vietnam but it was quieter, much quieter. The manic bustle had been replaced by a laidbackness that was almost tangible.

And, as I’d travelled south, the heat was back. All thirty degrees of it.

A notice on this cafe seemed to sum up the place:

With a whole late afternoon and evening to explore the place, I figured that getting an early flight wasn’t so bad after all. I wandered. And this is what I found…

Temple locked, but moth open for photographic opportunity:

I took out $250 from an ATM and was presented with a massive wodge of notes. Paper notes. No more plastic ones, which is a shame as they’re very practical.

Laotian written script (called “abugida”, or “alphasyllabary” which is a segmental writing system where consonant-vowel sequences are written as a unit) means back to the beautiful, but utterly bewildering, patterns, like Cambodian:

Another outdoor gym:

With additional mobility workout instructions on lamppost (basic mobility seems part of the Asian workout – get up early and there’ll be all ages (actually, now that I think about it, it’s mostly the older generation) swinging their arms, etc):

No cars on the road near the river, which had been pedestrianised and was very undeveloped for the main coastal road of a capital city:

Wandering through the night market:

… it struck me that the clothes were small. Nay, tiny. Good job I don’t need anything as there’s no way I’d fit into any of the clothes they were selling.

And, best of all, there was no hassling. Nothing. Nada. I knew I was going to like this place 🙂