This not being our planned destination we like to tell how we ended up here in this idyllic out of the way jungle village. It all started with the 3 hour very bumpy trip in a minivan to a similar but larger village accessed by a road as well as the Nam Ou River. At a “rest area” along the way, a charismatic young Laos joined us as a passenger. He asked where we were going and everyone (6 Westerners) said we were going to Nong Khiaw. That was a good place to go, he told us, BUT Muang Ngoi was sooo much better, cheaper, friendlier with smiles that were real, no vehicles or roads and there were bungalows looking out to the river. The only way to get there was a 1 hour boat ride. He convinced all but one of us to travel on to what turned out to be exactly what he told us and much more. The boat was long and shallow with a cover for the passengers who sat low and close facing each other on two boards laid along the bottom on each side. River travel here is beautiful!
The village itself is about 2 blocks long, one main dirt packed street with the temple at one end and a jungle covered karst at the other end. The buildings and facilities reflect the less developed nature of this area. The generated electricity is available between 6:30 and 10:00ish PM. The buildings are simple with most basic businesses on the front porch or on the street. Noodle soup is being made and served to the local people at stands along the way. The restaurants with tables are mainly patronized by tourists. From this main street, numerous paths lead to the other residences, the school, paths to other villages and to the river.
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| View from our room at dusk |
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| Our bungalow far left |
The bungalow we found the 2nd day here is something out of a movie set. It’s made of woven bamboo on stilts with 2 large hinged louvered doors which open to a spectacular view of the Nam Ou River, a sand bar, the jungle, mountains and the ever changing sky and clouds. Below the bungalows is a bamboo deck for eatting and relaxing on, a grassy area with a washing (clothes and bodies) platform, clotheslines and a firepit. To the side we look down on the kitchen garden of lettuce and unknown plants. From the 2 hammocks, we can watch the people going about their daily activities. On the sandbar we’ve seen wandering water buffalo, a man tethering a goat, a family bagging and carrying sand for construction and children playing. The river is the means of transport for all things and is constantly busy either with an open smaller family long boat or a covered larger boat for passengers or freight. It’s wonderful to wake up in the morning and open the doors to marvel at the view and the sounds of this peaceful place. There is always the sound of roosters crowing and in this village there is the sound of many boat engines starting with the convivial voices of the men greeting each other.
It seems we have become a bit of the family here. The owners who speak English are a couple in their early 30’s with a toddler. Somdy (Daddy) has taught his son to High 5 and throw kisses. The first night we were here they invited us to join them and their extended family and friends for a birthday party for Chan, the wife. We felt honored and enjoyed seeing this family’s customs and at the same time felt we missed so much only speaking English. Not knowing how to tell them we didn’t eat meat without hurting their feelings, we ended up chewing and chewing on very tough thin slices of beef. Rajiv says, “No need to do that again.”
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| Chan is on the right |
The next day Somdy was our guide on a day of boat travel, a visit to a village and a climb to a cave. We invited, Marcus, a young athletic German who needed something to do to join us. The trip started after the sun burnt off the fog. Just as we were leaving Somdy alerted us to a high pitched sound barely audible. Within minutes a frightening unmistakable bomb blast was heard. He told us the first sound was a warning for those around the blast area. The incident shocked us back to the reality of what was happening here in Laos in the 60’s and 70’s. Since then, we’ve heard more blasts further away and we hope they are official detonations rather than accidental ones. The 45 min. boat ride was again wonderful. The weaving village we arrived at was refreshing with no other foreigners until one family came as we were leaving. Women were at work spinning and weaving and their finished cotton or silk scarves and shawls were displayed for sale. Rajiv became interested in a man who was grinding charcoal. Through the guide, we found out he making gun powder. He showed us the other 2 ingredients, sulfur chunks and a crystalline substance made from boiling bat guano. Later we saw an older couple were weaving crude baskets. They were crude we were told because their eyes were beginning to fail them. Then a local man appeared who was to be our guide up the mountain to the cave. This cave had housed 100 women and children for the 10-12 year period of the war in this area. It was a strenuous 11/2 hr. climb up through the jungle over muddy slopes, rocks and vegetation. The cave was massive and densely dark with only a flashlight. Rajiv was left alone when the climb inside was too difficult for him and he identified with Tom Sawyer and his candle light. Marianne was grateful for her companions, especially for Somedy’s awareness of her lack of skill and helpful hand when needed. He wiped his forehead when we were all down the mountain, glad there had been no accidents and we were all safe. At lunch of ramen prepared with Lao seasonings and green onion, he said the trail we took needed some work and was more slippery than he had experienced before.
Hannah, a German woman we met who was our age, raved about a massage she had had thinking it would help with the stiffness Marianne was feeling. Both of us decided to try it and agreed the massage was wonderful even though quite deep and sometimes painful. Marianne’s stiffness reached its peak on Christmas day and was accompanied by stomach problems. Hence, we felt Dec. 26, when we both awoke feeling fully recovered, was more for celebrating and we started it with another massage. Most of the tourists talked of having walked to the local cave and village a couple miles beyond the town. With only a day left of our time here, we took off to do that, also. Walking was slow because the path through the jungle and clear areas was so picturesque, picture taking took precedence. As we were passing a field, we heard what we thought was a boat until we actually saw a man riding and maneuvering a rototiller-type machine in the rice paddy. It was the first we had seen in this area. Surprisingly, the 2nd one we saw was on our return walk. It was being guided alternately by a group of men. Some were carrying parts to add to the machine later. The lug wheels made it a jarring job guiding it and left tracks we thought would be fun to follow to its destination later. How had this machine gotten here and how was it going to be driven over the sometimes extremely narrow path and over a bamboo bridge to where it belonged? This new acquisition was followed by a village elder emphasizing its importance.
Today, our last of 7 days, as we work on this blog we are fascinated watching several family women make Lao Lao, rice whiskey, in the grassy open area below our window. They are also preparing river weed to be dried similar to nori. Now that the river is low the weed is easier to gather. It appeared to be an extra busy day for them.
We wish you a happy and peaceful new year 2011. May your lives reflect the peace we have seen and experienced here in Muang Ngoi, Laos.
Rajiv and Marianne
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