Plastered with the Khamu
Trip Start
Mar 03, 2005
1
37
80
Trip End
Apr 08, 2006
Muang Ngoi,
Louangphabang,
Lao Peoples Dem Rep
Saturday, September 24, 2005
My guide Saang informed me that we didn't need to leave until 9.30am, as I'd visited Ban Na village the day before. So Jana and I took the opportunity to have a look around Muang Ngoi's market, which only occurs once every ten days. On this day, the merchants of Nong Khiaw bring all of their goods up river, and the inhabitants of the surrounding villages walk for hours to buy the things that they can't make or grow themselves. It's a dirty, smelly and very muddy affair, but the hundreds of people really enjoy the opportunity to do a little socialising and eating at the many stalls.
After bidding farewell to Jana, I met Saang who asked if I wouldn't mind waiting another 10 minutes while he got some breakfast. "No problem" I replied, and was led up a small bank to join a few people. There was some meat roasting above some coals, and Saang skewered it and began munching away. I was shocked. Not just because I'm a vegetarian and don't like the thought of eating meat, but because of what Jana and I had seen roasting above the same coals some 20 minutes earlier. A civet cat. A large cat/rodent like creature with a long tail and short fat legs. "Very tasty, you want to try?" Saang asked me. "Oh no thanks. Civet cat is not part of a diet which excludes meat" I informed him. At about that moment, an old lady with awfully decayed black teeth, no doubt due to years of chewing betel nut, sat next to me and threw another dead civet cat on a piece of wood in front of me. She then started to pluck the fur from it with her hands. Seeing the look of horrow on my face she gave me a big smile, as if to accentuate her disgusting teeth.
The first two hours of the trek were pretty straight forward, on relatively flat terrain through rice fields and jungle, with a number of river crossings. Joining Saang and I were hundreds of villagers making their way home after completing their todo lists at the market. Although I had no trouble with the track with my small daypack, I'm sure I would have found it much more difficult if I was carrying huge rolled up sheets of corrugated iron or baskets of wood on my back.
We arrived at the first village at around 12:30pm, where we sat down in a small shelter for lunch and a drink. This consisted of sticky rice, spinach, chilli and one fried egg for three of us (one of villagers was obviously a friend of Saangs). As we ate, a group of around a dozen children sat and watched us eat. I'm not sure which disturbed me more; the awfully malnutrioned crosseyed little boy who could do nothing but dribble and groan, or his big sister and the other ten or so children who ALL had eye infections. To make things worse, they were all rubbing their glassy bloodshot eyes with their dirty little hands. If I had have had my eye solution with me I'd have helped them, but I'd left it in my big pack in Muang Ngoi. It made me really sad to see this, and it was the first part of Laos I'd seen that was comparable to Cambodia as far as quality of life went. Everywhere else in Laos the people seemed just a little better off, with bigger houses, and a few more possessions. Not so in this village.
After lunch we began the climb to Ban Kheukham village, which was where I was to spend the night. The next three hours were a hellish scramble 1200m up the side of a mountain on a steep muddy track. At points my legs sank almost knee deep into the mud, and on more than the one occasion I was forced to flick a leech off my lower leg. My clothes were drenched with sweat, and I drank about 4 litres of water. I found it tough going in my hiking boots, with my small pack, yet powering on up ahead were some old ladies with baskets on their backs. They'd left Ban Kheukham at 4am to go to the market in Muang Ngoi, and now they were heading home. It made me feel a little pathetic actually! Saang's friend who joined us for lunch was still with us, along with the second chief of Ban Kheukham. Both were well into their forties, and this was like a walk to the corner store for them.
We only stopped once to clean our boots and have a break, so the village was a welcome site at 4.30pm. The first chief greeted me outside his house with the little english he knew, and for the next 20 minutes the five of us sat outside his hut. About twenty villagers gathered round to look at me. This was the kind of experience I was looking for, not the Chiang Mai hill tribe trek experience I'd heard so many bad reports about. After gaining some energy, I clambered back down the hill for 10 minutes to have a shower, which was simply a piece of bamboo channeling water from a stream. By the time I got back to the village I was sweating from head to toe again!
Prior to dinner, Saang and I joined the second chief's family for Lao Lao (rice whisky) and fried bamboo worms (similar to witchety grubs). I declined the offer of the latter, and watched the others munch into them as we'd eat nuts out of a bowl in a bar. After six or seven glasses of Lao Lao, my head was spinning, and dinner was brought out. Scrumptious sticky rice, spinach, chilli and one fried egg. Remarkably similar to lunch, although this time with some rice paddy crab. I devoured as much as I could, although I can't say I felt too satisfied afterwards.
After another three or four glasses of Lao Lao, we made our way to the first chief's hut. He again welcomed us with a handshake, sat us down on a small platform and brought out a second dinner. Made up of sticky rice, spinach, chilli and one fried egg. Wow! Such variety in these hills! The only difference between the first chief's hut and the seconds was the first chief had the luxurious possession of a 48cm TV, along with speakers and VCD player. The generator chugged away outside as we watched (and later sang to) Lao karaoke. I couldn't believe someone had carried this TV up that hill! Some women and children sat on plastic chairs glued to the screen, as the main men of the village (and myself) became more and more drunk on the raised platform. It was obviously a big privilege for them to be allowed into the chief's hut. At some stage I staggered outside to relieve myself, and saw the strange site of about 20 children peering into the hut through gaps in the bamboo thatches. The entire village had surrounded the chief's hut! I told Saang when I returned inside, and within five minutes they were all allowed into the hut! It was a huge party! The chief obviously became very generous when a foreigner was in town (village) and he'd drunk a bottle of Lao Lao singlehandedly. Saang later told me that the party was not in honour of me, but in honour of himself, because he hadn't visited the village in three weeks!
It was a long restless night lying on a bamboo mat on the wooden floor of the chief's hut. I woke after about two hours sleep, feeling that I needed to throw up. The Lao Lao I drank was not sitting well in my stomach. After about two hours of trying to get comfortable, the distant rumble of thunder in the east finally reached us, and the intense tropical rains and thunder battered the village. This lasted about an hour before drifting off into the west, at which point every single rooster in the village (about 2 million) started crowing. The sound was louder than the buzz of Phnom Penh at 7am. I got no sleep apart from the initial two hours.
Saang pulled me up off the mat at around half past six to see an incredible sunrise over the mountains. After taking a few photos, and protesting my self inflicted illness, I was led into Saang's friends hut. Here I was given something a little different for breakfast, however I would have preferred the sticky rice spinach egg buffet. I was presented with a bowl of noodle soup, with what I think were two eggs, but looked more like testicles. I took one spoonful before nearly spitting it out. I was then brought a some sticky rice, without condiments. Sticky rice on its own tastes like cardboard to me. The site of three bananas that were brought out last roused my spirits, however they were soon dulled again when I was forced to have a glass of Beer Lao, hence I offend the house spirits.
Saang, myself and two villagers left at around 8:30am, and walked about a kilometre in the first hour, thanks to an incredibly steep, slippery and muddy track. The overnight downpour was not kind to us. The walk then got even harder, as we crossed over a saddle and began our first descent. This was immensely difficult due to the gradient of the slope, mud and water combined. Upon reaching the bottom things became no easier as I had to substitute my boots for flip flops and begin an hours walk down a river. We had a fifteen minute break afterwards, and I thought I was going to die! Hungover, with an awful stomach ache, and bleeding toes, the end seemed a million miles away.
Thankfully for me, it was only about two. We climbed a hill, descended the other side, and then climbed another before I saw a view that couldn't have been any better at that point in time - the Nam Ou river winding its way around a giant limestone mountain. It was spectacular! And the river marked the end of the trek. It was 1:30pm, and fifteen minutes later I was on a boat. The half hour journey back to Muang Ngoi was totally sublime, and rates as the best river trip I've ever had. What a fitting end to an epic two day trek, and holiday in Laos. My two day experience with the Khamu people in the hills behind Muang Ngoi was one I will never forget.
