Lazy Laos

The second I crossed the border I was met by... not much. The roads of Vientiane, the capital, were pretty much deserted except for a few Tuk-tuk drivers who were napping in hammocks rigged inside their vehicles. I only stopped off in Vientiane for a day on my way to Vieng Vang and it was worth it to pick up a few other travelers to split beers and rooms with.

Vieng Vang is a tiny little town made only slightly less tiny by the amounts of backpackers. Everybody is friendly and doesn't have a care in the world. The great times around here all take place in the few bars that stay open late (11:30 pm), the hiking done in the jagged nearby mountains covered by jungle and the infamous span of river used mostly for tubing.

A couple friends I met along the way came with me to experience river tubing. We rented a tractor tire tube, got a ride abut 10k up the river and started floating. The river took us winding down along side the hazey mountains and through a few tiny villages until we hit the last half. the 4k of river left before we got out was dotted with makeshift bamboo bars and gigantic rope swings. Dark brown Laos people pull you in with a giant bamboo pole so you can take a few swings and have a few beers. I wish I had pictures to show but water and cameras don't mix well.

We topped off our time here by sticking around until the end of the Buddhist lent, a huge festival with lots to eat and row boat races. All the villagers from nearby came to cheer on their favorite team and eat a lot of

Eating Locals

Usually my stories are about a certain place or adventure. I don't think I have properly communicated some of the day to day, routine adventures I have... such as finding food.

I have found that a culture mostly sprouts from two things: religion and food. Here in Buddhist Southeast Asia, food is everywhere. Foreigners usually just scurry and hide in the restaurants, but that's what tourists do. There is good food there but if you really want to taste the culture, and be a true traveler, you have to eat where the locals do. This takes some searching but usually ends at the same place, the epicenter of local life no matter how touristy your host town is, the local market. No, not the market where they sell the knock-off North Face gear. This market sticks out from the rest.

You see plumes of smoke rising from miniature BBQ pits, usually made from scrap metal or coffee cans. As you get closer you smell the people around you heading for the same place after a long, hard, and body odor erupting day. Then you start to smell the food. First you smell the dried fish, and not just a little, whole stands filled with it and the stench almost burns your nose. Loads of it hangs from hooks alongside other skinned animals such as chickens, pigs and frogs. Whole foreign fruits lay in giant baskets everywhere being snatched up by passersby. I look down at them and notice that the ground isn't linoleum or even asphalt, its old rain water, sweat and dust churned by thousands of feet into a soggy, stinky mess. And amongst all this are little tables, miniature stools and a woman hovering above the table, hands chopping animal parts indiscriminately and face covered in soot. This is where I eat... mmmm.

As I walk closer to the table I already know I am the only round-eyed person in this market. I checked on the way in. Everybody looks confused when I approach, thinking that I need directions or something. When I sit down I am greeted by the same thing every time at a place like this, surprised faces and giggles from other patrons. This assures me that I am entering local territory.

Now, what to eat? In front of me are a couple bubbling cauldrons and some raw ingredients. I look around and point at the most popular dish at the table, this time it seems to be some sort of ricey soup. The woman chops off a few chicken limbs and then chops them again and adds it to the top of the soup along with mint leaves. I stir it up and add a little chili. In this part of the world if you automatically just add chili they seem to accept you a bit more. I dive in with my bathtub shaped spoon and... its good. A simple rice and sprout soup in a chicken broth complete with some chicken bits, bone and all. I fish around for some more mint leaves and find something really Asian: chunks of cooked, coagulated blood. I tried it once and didn't like it so I fish them out and hide them in my napkin as to avoid any insult. Served with the soup are doughnut sticks for dipping. It goes well.

I thank my cook and ask "how much?" Of course she says the tourist price, double the local one. I suggest a lower one and she accepts. Then off I go, back though the soggy mess and dried fish stench that burns my nostrils. I'm starting to grow a resistance to the smell after coming to these things markets as often as I can. Now I'm searching for something sweet to top it off. A local child points to a stand filled with custard creations. I picked the most exotic thing there: a small slice of an orange yam or pumpkin thing stuffed with an egg custard. I pay and take a big bite while locals watch, waiting for my reaction. I nod in acceptance. The yam things was pretty bland. There were two custards inside. One was slightly salty and the other was made from banana. It was ok tasting. Nothing special. Next time I'm going for the bright yellow globs. Until then, off I go back to my room to take a cold shower, then only kind offered around here.

Genocide, Shanties and Temples

I expected to see something similar to Thailand when I crossed into Cambodia. I forgot that I knew nothing about Cambodia before going there except that I need to see the temples. The dusty boarder town that I spent my first night in was a splash of warm water on a hot Southeast Asia day. I saw only one paved road, rows and rows of tin and wood shanties and a few British brothel owners... which I had lunch and beers with.

The next day I was in the capital, Phnom Penn. This was home to some of the memorials to Cambodia's bloody and recent past. Back in the 70's, a group called the Khmer Rouge took control of the country in a communistic revolution. They captured, tortured and killed anybody that was educated, wealthy, or had a technical or professional job. This included men, women, children and babies. The memorial to this gruesome period of their history is in the former torture camp on the south side of town. There, I walked the cells where innocent people were detained and slowly killed with pictures to prove it. In one room, there is blood splattered across the ceiling, all the others just had red stained floor tiles. Seeing some of this incredibly depressing past would have been wrong to just pass up and is important in understanding the country that is hosting me.

All around the country you can see the void of education caused by the Khmer Rouge and the corruption that stands in its place. The main highway that brings in hordes of tourists into the country everyday is still unpaved and a joke of a road for a bus. Police officers can be wafted away from your small jay-walking crime for ten thousand Riel ($2.50) and your pack of cigarettes.

On a brighter note there are plenty of positive and interesting things in the country. French buildings still stand in multitude from the colonization and there is a military firing range where tourists can fire anything from an AK-47 to a rocket propelled grenade.

I left the urban areas to go see the famous city of Buddhist temples. To get there, I took a 6 hour river boat that simulated all too much from Into the Heart of Darkness. From the boat we got a great view of rural life for Cambodians. Riverside bungalows and entire floating villages were two of the stops along the way. Then we finally arrived in Seim Reap, which is minutes from the temples of the ancient Angkor civilization.

I wont bore anybody with much history of this amazing area. In short, Kings over generation tried to one-up each other by making bigger and better temples right next to each other. I think its a great way to let me feel like Indiana Jones for a day. Pictures do the best talking. Hopefully I can get most of them uploaded.

Ko Chang Fo' Pocket Change

I thought it would be a good idea to break away from the Bangkok fast paced city life and take a rest before the stresses of the famous Cambodia border. My friend told me of an island on the way called Ko Chang.





Ko Chang used to be populated by only island natives and hippies. Everybody always describes it as "Chill". A few years ago the island was picked for development to get the backpackers out and the deep pocketed tourists in. When I got here it was clearly a split between the two. Construction everywhere yet the precence of hippies is still here. I opted to pass the nice, air conditioned rooms and find the last hippie alove on the island. The place I'm staying is simply called Treehouse.





My bungalow came with a beautiful sea view, which wasnt hard because the shore is only 30 feet away. In the room was all that I needed: a light bulb powered only from 6pm to 4am, a thin matress and a mosquito net. Down the path is the restaurant and villa tha thouses all the lazy travelers that lounge in the sun. What did I do the last two days? I layed on the beach, cruized the island on a scooter and did a two hour hike up a waterfall/stream to the peak of a small mountain overlooking the bay.





What is more amazing about this place is the prices. The bungalow was only $2.25 a day, beers are 75 cents, meals are about $2. I think I lived two days of island paradise for about...$20... tops.

Whats the Capital of Thailand.... BANGKOK!

I arrived at Bangkok International with several problems. I had no Thai currency, I didnt meet he requirements to get a visa and I had a history of bad luck with cities. I quickly found a currency exchange and solved my first problem. Next was the problem of getting past customs. To get a visa in Thailand you must show a ticket that takes you out of the country within 30 days. I had a one way ticket, a bag of M&Ms, a pen and paper pad. If you have read some of the other stories on this site, then you know I like to pull some tricks to help me on my way. This little trick is called... pretending you are deaf. I caused such frustration with hand communications and purposely writing illegibly that they eventually waived me in just to avoid a larger headache than the one they already had. I had my backpack, my passport stamped and all I needed now was a place to crash.

After a night at an inn I set out to find my couchsurfing.com hosts. Tom and Ryan are Americans living in Bangkok. They welcomed me into their condo under the condition that I bring a bottle of duty free vodka. Partying was great in the evening but I had a few things I wanted to see and do.

The very first thing I did was teach chubby bunny , then headed over to a suit store that was recommended to me. Custom made suits here in Bangkok run from about $100 and up. After getting measured and selecting the top quality fabrics the store gave me a quote of $650 dollars for two suits and two shirts. About five minutes later I paid $450 for two suits, four shirts and two ties. Over the next few days I came in for 3 fittings, making adjustments each time.

Walking the streets in Bangkok is mind numbingly entertaining. There are street vendors every 10 feet selling delicious Thai creations for about $.50, Taxi drivers always asking "where you go?", stray animals and very strange smells. If there is one thing about Bangkok I will not miss it is the smells. Garbage on the ground, lack of deodorant on people, heavenly foods and emissions from the crowds of traffic jams mix into a stench that is inescapable.

Each night has brought great fun and culture shock. Cheap beers are harder to come by than prostitutes. They line the streets of some bar areas and yell "seeeeeeeeexxxy maaaaaan" as you walk by. The aggressive ones walk out and block your path to get your attention. One night I saw a group of them start to come my way, so I just shoved Ryan into them and kept walking. Backpackers are everywhere. If there was ever a Mecca for backpackers it would be Bangkok. Truckloads from all over the world fill the Khoasan road bars making for the best atmosphere and the best stories.

There is one last thing I had to do before leaving Bangkok: Muy Thia. Watching to old Thia people ferociously betting and the odd musical accompaniments was almost as interesting as the matches going on. We watches several low quality matches waiting for the final event. We were very excited once the top fighters came out for the last fight. Then one of them got kicked in the ankle in the first round and it was all over. We felt out Muy Thia experience was left slightly unfulfilled.

Now all I have to do is mail home my large box filled with gifts for donators, postcards and my suits.