Kuang Si Falls

January 14, 2016 by Ann Heatherington in Asia, Nature

A 45-minute tuk-tuk ride to Kuang Si Falls wound through the verdant, rolling mountains of the Laotian countryside. Water buffalo, rice paddies dotted with the occasional straw hat, tipped down. Every so often, a town, if you can call it that -- a handful of open air shacks selling basic goods. Over twisty roads and rickety wood bridges, kids in uniforms walked home from school, or rode double on bikes three sizes too big. Moto drivers wearing surgical masks sped by, their jackets turned backward to ward off dust.

The electric aqua waterfall appeared magical. Like if you drank from it, you might live forever. I could go up or down. I opted for up. Path or hike. I opted for hike, a steep stretch of roots and packed red mud ‘steps’ right alongside the waterfall. At the top of the falls, I waded into the cool water to a wooden fence where you could put your head almost over the edge. As I crossed the lagoon to make my way back down, I saw another sign tucked off to the side: cave and fresh spring, 3 km. So I opted instead for the road less traveled.

No more signs, no one on the path, just me and hundreds of swirling butterflies. No idea if I was going the right way or not. After walking about 25 minutes, a barefoot Lao man and his dog approached, on the other side of a funny little gate, which was locked, and a strange low fence, with barbed wire underneath, no more than a foot off the ground. He indicated I was going the right way by pointing, nodding and gesturing with his head, since we didn’t share a language. The road to the right was what I wanted. Just step over the fence. I wondered if I'd fallen through a crack in time. Alice in WonderLao.

A little while after making the turn, I saw a couple up ahead, which made me feel more secure. I caught up to them just about to enter the cave. They were sitting on a wooden bench, getting water and small bananas from the cave keeper. For 10,000 kip, I got my own mini banana, water and a small, stubby flashlight.

At the entrance, a foot-tall seated gold Buddha, and then lots of little Buddha statues tucked in crannies in the small, low-ceilinged, happily bat-free cave. Thank god for the young Belgian couple, since my flashlight didn’t work. I followed their light in the dark, and hit my head three times before they reminded me that my phone had a light on it. Right. I blame my lapse in brain function on the humidity.

Cave done, now on to the spring - a surreal, paradisiacal pool surrounded by lush jungle. The spring attendant's two little girls played on a rope swing, near a few picnic tables, and they even sold a few sundries. A big beer for the Belgians, more water for me. After a swim to cool off and de-sweat, I said goodbye and rushed back the same "3 km" (more like 6 km - the sign grossly understated the distance, we'd decided), hustling to meet my tuk-tuk driver to return to Luang Prabang. Since I was leaving for Thailand the next day, I hoped to still catch the sunset in town from the top of Mount Phou Si. I got back just barely in time. After another sprint up a few hundred steps to the temple, I joined the crowd gathered for the photo op. All fell quiet as the the sun sank behind the mountains, an orange glow rippling out across the Mekong.

Sunset over the Mekong River, Luang Prabang

Monk Fishing

January 12, 2016 by Ann Heatherington in Asia, Travel

Got up early to see the local Buddhist monks collecting alms from local people, but the gate to the hotel was locked and no one around. Funny, considering that all Luang Prabang tourists aim for this photo-op. I broke out by jumping the wall into the next property, escaping through their open gate, and caught up with about a dozen monks making the rounds. There are 200 monks in Luang Prabang, but when they collect alms, they're not all strung together in one long queue the way it looks on postcards. There are breaks in the line, then a smattering of monks at once. It's a strange -- laying in wait for them, springing to action to take photos when they walk by, then scurrying down the road after them. It's hard to even get a shot that doesn't include a tourist taking photos in it. A serene and beautiful moment of their daily life, appropriated for our viewing pleasure.

After, I went to the morning market where local people shop. Eels sloshing about in a bowl with a screen on top. Itty bitty pale pink transparent fish wriggling en masse before being tossed into a small plastic bag. Some sort of live rodent, fluffy and brown. Entrails galore. Chilies upon chilies. Many-hued eggs. Stray dogs trotting by, lazing in the shade. Banana leaf packets of rice and chili paste and other fillings for take away. Frogs splayed three to a skewer and grilled.

Evening in Luang Prabang

January 10, 2016 by Ann Heatherington in Travel, Asia, Markets, Shopping

Dropped off on the Luang Prabang riverfront in the pitch dark, I finally found my hotel, Villa Meuang Lao, up a narrow dark street, lush and overgrown with plants and trees. Every building has just two stories, all white with dark wood beams and frames, the gold-lettered wood signs and house numbers luminous in the low light.

Lots of little restaurants line the main drag, and tuck in among the greenery of the dimly lit side streets. Some clearly for Westerners, serving imported beer, pizza, pasta, whathaveyou. The night market features local artisans' crafts and textiles in addition to the standard market fare -- trinkets, elephant pants, pop-up cards of intricately cut paper, and anything decorative that can be made from a coconut. The local goods, while not dirt cheap - and why should they be? - were of a quality and value I didn't find again on my travels. I bought a few beautiful cotton and silk scarves which, in NYC, would cost 5-10 times what I paid. On a side street, a long row of food stalls and communal tables -- noodles to order, various creatures grilled on sticks.

A delicious dinner at Khaiphen, a Friends International restaurant. www.friends-international.org

I opted for dinner at Khaiphaen, the Luang Prabang outpost of the Friends International restaurants. Friends' TREE Alliance, a partnership program that trains street kids in the hospitality industry, helps young people develop skills that can change their destiny. Unlike my years working in the restaurant business, waiting tables is a noble calling here. I ate at 3 of their restaurants on this trip - two in Lao PDR and one in Cambodia -- and each has its own menu of delicious, creative local cuisine. The kids wait on you with their trainer hovering just a few steps away. They work very hard to please, to the point that three kids might come by in succession to remove a dish, shyly giggling when they realize it's already been taken.