Taking Orders from the Chief

My time in Laos was amazing. From Northern Thailand I crossed the bustling Mekong river in a rickety old boat into Laos. The locals were much poorer, but wonderfully warm and welcoming. I decided that this was the place to take a trek into the mountains and experience the natural environment of the Laos hill-tribe people. If I had been told I was going to be yanking leeches off of my legs as I hiked through the pouring rain, slipping in muddy jungle creeks and then later taking orders from the village chief, I might have opted out. I am so glad I didn’t know, because the rewards of this adventure far outweighed the nuisances. Our journey to the Akha forest camp of Nam Lai started from the town of Luang Namtha. We met our guide “Cy” and piled into a songthaew (an old truck with bench seating in back) and headed for the hills. We reached the trailhead, and began our hike through thick jungle plants, past water buffalo and up muddy trails. I learned quickly that leeches are like slinkys. They start on your shoes and then slinky front to end, then end to front all the way up your leg. When they find a nice spot, they latch on. Yes, they are disgusting critters, but as they don’t do much harm, I found it best to just laugh as I pried them off my thighs.
In the early evening, we finally arrived at the Akha village. The local women were just arriving home from working in the fields, the children were chasing chickens outside their thatch huts, and the men stood around chatting and smoking tobacco. We took off our wet clothes, hung them around the fire, inside our sleeping hut, and sat down Indian style on the floor for dinner. We were soon greeted by the village chief, who spooned food onto our plates and then passed around the traditional Laos-Laos whiskey. I tried to politely refuse the whiskey, but the look the chief gave me quickly convinced me to graciously receive what I was given. The night ended with traditional, and brutal, massages by thirteen-year-old Akha village girls. Exhausted, we crawled under our mosquito nets, into our lined up mattresses on the floor.
The next morning we woke early and made our way to the chief’s hut for breakfast, visiting with villagers along the way. It was 7am and I assumed coffee was on the menu. How wrong I was. The chief began passing around more Laos-Laos whisky. I cringed as I swallowed and felt the burn in my empty belly. I managed to fake drink a few more shots, and then pour them out when the chief wasn’t looking. We then learned that a wedding was planned for the day, and changed into our cleanest hiking pants for the occasion. The entire village was involved, and music streamed out over a loud speaker, as wood was carved and chopped to make tables and benches. Although none of us shared a common language, we were able to communicate for hours with smiles, laughs and gestures. After wishing the bride and groom good luck, we headed back out of the jungle, in awe from the glimpse of village life that we were able to witness.
From Luang Namtha, I journeyed eight hours southeast to Nong Khiaw, a picturesque town on the banks of the Nam Ou River, where I explored caves that the local people had used for hideouts during the war. From there I floated down the river, on a tiny slowboat from Nong Khiaw to Luang Prabang, watching villagers fishing and children playing by the riverbanks. Above all I appreciated my opportunity to explore a beautiful country that has yet to be totally exploited by tourism.
Laos marked the end of an amazing journey, but only one chapter in a lifetime of adventures. Thank you for your support and for tirelessly following Brig and I around the world through this blog.

Thailand: Same-Same but Different

The above phrase describes perfectly how I felt upon arriving in Bangkok. A huge western city with skyscrapers, 7-elevens and lots of traffic. Same as home, but different people, food and customs. This phrase is also commonly used by Thai people to describe how two things differ, or don't as the case may be. Maybe you are trying to decide between two rooms in a guest house, two different dishes, two modes of transportation. The Thai people will tell you "same-same, but different" which is true I guess, in the end.

In this entry, though, I think I will focus on the differences rather than the sames. The biggest difference is well, the food. All of the amazing, delicious, spicy, sour, sweet, cheap, ever-present, did I mention delicious, food. You can't move five feet down the street without bumping into a food stall. And behind every good food stall, small as it may be, there is an amazing cook ready to whip up any of about 200 dishes, all for under a dollar. Oh and the best phrase of all in Thailand "gin len" literally translates as "eat for fun". And gin len is what Thai people love to do! This makes me happy. I have always felt a close kinship to food which goes beyond just being hungry and filling the belly. Gin len describes one of my favorite hobbies, and refined talents. And what better way to hone this talent than to devote my time in Thailand to food? So this is what I have been doing.

Besides eating five meals a day in Bangkok, my time was spent running from super soakers (huge water guns). I arrived during Songkhran, the Thai New Year and water festival, where the city shuts down, and locals stand on the corner with huge buckets of water or spray guns, ready to soak unsuspecting walkers, like me, from head to toe. This was a surprise, but I adapted quickly by wearing my same sweaty running clothes for three days straight. And in fact, it was so hot that being drenched, and laughed at, every 10 minutes or so, wasn't so bad.

From Bangkok I headed north by train to see the sacred ruins of Sukhothai. From there I continued on to Chiang Mai. I quickly signed up for two days of cooking classes from a Thai TV chef, intent on bringing a taste of Thailand back home with me. The classes were great and involved a trip to the local market, making my own curry paste and 12 other classic Thai dishes and then eating every last one of them. Is this heaven? After that I headed up to the cute little mountain village of Pai, where I rode a scooter through the hills, past elephant camps and to a WWII Memorial Bridge. While in Pai I happened upon a flyer that was advertising a three day farm stay, with yoga classes and two full days of , you guessed it, cooking classes. By this time, my stomach had recovered from the last binge session, so I packed up my bag and headed for the farm.

It was a rustic, wet and buggy experience, but delightful all the same. The cooking classes were even better than before and the fresh farm air was invigorating. The termites on the other hand, were disgusting. Our accommodations were open mud huts with bucket showers and squat toilets, a small mattress and mosquito net. Unfortunately, termites of the flying variety, can shimmy through the holes of the nets. My nights were spent burning mosquito coils and brushing termite wings off my body. But hey, I got my fill of delicious food, yet again.

After leaving the farm, I headed six hours north to Chiang Khong and yet another border crossing, with plenty of food stops along the way. The border crossing over the Mekong river went smoothly and I found myself safely in Laos, with a new language to tackle and a new cuisine to explore.