More About Laos; French-loaded to Pakse
Trip Start
Jan 09, 2009
1
12
44
Trip End
Feb 23, 2009
Vientiane, Lao Peoples Dem Rep
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
A few yards along from the Nita was another guest house, run by a guy who seemed really polite, helpful, and despite the dualistic thinking that exists between Laotians and Westerners, was a real gentlemen. Not all Laos people are alike or have the same attitude, thank goodness. The world would be an odd place, otherwise. He charges 60,000 Kip for a single room, and told me to turn up after nine a.m. However, it occurred, since I'd planned to spend some time staying on the '4,000 Islands,' why not head straight for Pakse and save on a night's accommodation? There's not all that much to see in Vientiane. After all, it's one of the world's smallest capital cities: a gold leaf-designed temple, a stocky archway, a Buddha park, the grid street system beside the Mekong
Pataxay among Palms
. "I'd be happy to book you a place on the night bus to Pakse," the gentleman affirmed.
"What's the price of a single?"
"180,000 Kip."
I paid the money.
"Please be back here by seven thirty p.m. Someone will come and pick you up to take you to the bus station. It's out of town."
"I'll be back."
I left my packs by the reception and paced off to one of the dull-looking banks in search of Laos Kip. The bank tellers were quite pleasant, though, as I accumulated enough of the country's inflationary currency to see me through to the end of my trip there.
Laos, having a low GDP, a low rated currency, not a lot of market-based activity apart from tourism is in the offing, so therefore is in the low end of the world's financial system. But not everyone in Laos is poor by any means. Some are driving around in flash pick-up vehicles, but their dualistic attitude, seeing foreigners as nothing more than rich money-making icons, also has its tentacles everywhere. Such inflexion, ironically, goes against the grain
Up Close and Still
. Without much, if any, give and take, how do they hope to progress and change? But such is you and I. Pataxay - the famous archway - built to celebrate Laotians victory in the struggle for independence from France, was completed, I think, in 1968. Ironically, it is deliberately designed to emulate, in some degree, the Arc De Triumph, with Laotian characteristics. Passing under the ceiling, I thought decorously impressive, and tourists were out taking picks with Laotians in front of the dumpy facade, as I passed over the busy road and a street seller selling little oranges:
"One kilogram, ten thousand kiiiiipppp!" She rasped the last few stresses.
"I'll have half a kilo," and handed over a 5,000 Kip bill.
Laos people are a bit surly and totally inflexible when dealing with foreigners, not like Chinese at all, and again, no bargaining, no give-and-take.
I beelined along the road to the Pha That Luang temple complex, a mixture of Buddhist and Hindu regalia: wats, a stone square with an inner squared pedestal in the design of leaves; very impressive, if a little ignorant as to its purpose. Really, I needed a guide which I wasn't prepared to hire. But it was interesting seeing the resident monks serve tourists, and of course, I had to pay 3,000 Kip more than Laotians to enter the leafy square
Strang-est Pagoda
. "What a building!?" A stocky German tourist remarked, as we exchanged photos in front of crucial bits. All very strange, but not phenomenally spectacular, either.
I arranged a few self-photos in front of a nearside newly constructed brilliant-white pagoda, stopped off at a street-side restaurant and headed off to the guest house area beside the Mekong, which is also a grid system of streets designed to serve Western interests, from bookshops to massage parlors. However, most of the books are used quality and grossly overpriced; an astonishing rip-off.
I sauntered around, killing time, watching Laos women in conicled-straw hats working behind stalls, and with helmeted motorcyclists riding on a busy street, I felt they were unusually and inflexibly trenchant as ever Laos people can be. Really, it's just another side to Laos not mentioned or given credence in tourist brochures and travel magazines.
I stopped at a roadside restaurant and ordered a sticky rice, fruit shake and a Beerlao. A young couple were sitting a few tables and chairs behind me, further in. A woman, presumably impoverished, passed by clutching a bucket with a kind of urn inside:
"I..have..not..eat." She struggled to say the words which came out rather woodenly
In Front Of White Pagoda
. I remained silent, ignoring her, not sure what to think. I don't wish to make excuses, but what's the solution to the begging problem? Give some money to buy a meal? But then it's going to happen all over again. In hindsight, maybe I should have helped her. She asked the young couple who were equally unforthcoming, and moved off.
I made my way past the presidential palace and sauntered in the grounds of one of the temples. One thing I like about Laos, is that the grounds are kept open where anyone can come in and take pictures at will. I chatted to a young solitary monk dressed in orange garb, or robes. They're quite well educated and he said where he's from and what the numerous decorous stupas are for:
"They house the Buddha's bones." he affirmed. "I'm from Savannakaet."
"Is that a town where the bus to Pakse passes through?"
"Yes."
He was very smiley and a little giggly, although a bit shy, as I took a photo, shook his hand and parted.
I went back to the guest house, passing a young couple of heavy-loaded backpackers. The two Brits I'd met earlier were outside talking nineteen to the dozen
Straw Hats and Straw Baskets
. One eventually got around to talking about Cambodia: "It's one of the most corrupt countries. I wouldn't wear your camera outside around your neck. Someone will come and cut it off you. The same with your rucksack. Happens all the time"
This info had me worried:
"How should I wear them?"
"Put your camera in a zipped pocket; wear your pack in front. Laos is far more civilized. I lived in Cambodia for five years, and due to being too-sentimental, got taken advantage of."
"Really, is that so?" He almost put me off from going, but was just a pretentious know-all; way over-exaggerating the pitfalls. It turned out quite differently as these posts will declare, as I'm sure other posts put up here about Cambodia by others, have already done so.
A loaded tuk tuk in which I had to stand at the back, right on the edge, whisked me off to the out of town bus station, past a firework display, where I was unceremoniously shown to the VIP bus. One young woman was in a bit of bother about which bus she was supposed to traveling in. Keep your ticket at all times is my motto.
Loads of French tourists invaded the bus. I had to share the sleeping berth with one. I don't think he was that keen on sharing it with a Brit. A bit too close for comfort.
