Category Archives: Laos

Daily Life, Laos

International UXO/Mine Awareness Day

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Today is Easter, a day for Christians to focus on promises fulfilled and hope for the future. Here in Laos, we spent the morning focusing on the same concepts but in a different context: International UXO/Mine Awareness Day.

In the capital city of the most heavily bombed country on earth, Tony and I joined the crowd at the Patuxai Monument early this morning, dressed in our Team Dai “Ban Cluster Bombs” jerseys. Several organizations had set up informational displays about UXO (unexploded ordnance) and the efforts to rehabilitate bomb victims and educate communities at risk. Hundreds of people showed up to march in support of banning cluster munitions, so we paraded about 5K from the monument to the Presidential Palace and back.

According to the United Nations:

Throughout the Second Indochina War (1964 to 1973), more than 580,000 bombing missions (every 8 minutes, 24 hours a day, for 9 years) and wide-ranging ground battles dropped over 2 million tons of ordnance on Lao PDR. Additionally, over 260 million cluster munitions were used, of which an estimated 80 million remain live as a result of high failure rates. Today UXO litters vast areas of the country; approximately 25 percent of 10,000 villages are contaminated.

Tony and I cannot believe that we never learned about this in school. We feel fortunate to live here and witness first-hand the selfless work under way to excavate the bombs, reach out to bomb victims, and educate communities to prevent further casualties. These organizations from all over the world are living the message of Easter: promise and hope.

A quick speech. Every red dot on that map represents a load of bombs that were dropped there.
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Release some balloons (no need to address the environmental impact of that at this moment …)
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And off we go for the UXO/Mine Awareness March.
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We walked with friends Alison and Todd, teachers at VIS, and their kids Sam and Kira.
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We cheated a bit and crossed the median just short of the Presidential Palace.
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A sign at the monument. I just never get tired of quirky translations.
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Daily Life, Laos

Fast Food Nation at last, alas

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Residents of Vientiane jonesing for a Frapuccino, Big Mac or KFC hot wings just have to get over it … or get over the border. All those things can be found in Thailand, just a few short miles away. Until last week, Laos was fast-food franchise-free, and many of us liked it that way. You can get the best coffee of your life on almost any street corner for less than $1, and while several restaurants have mastered slobber-inducing burgers and other tasty Western fare, that’s not what attracted us to Southeast Asia.

Last week, however, Vientiane’s first international fast-food restaurants opened their doors: Swensen’s ice cream parlor and The Pizza Company. The Lao-Thai venture cost $500,000. The two shops occupy one building in the shadow of the National Culture Hall with a parking attendant and first-class service.

Here’s my favorite quote from the Vientiane Times article about the franchise opening:

The manager said that she had confidence that her fast food service would be attractive to many Lao people, especially the middle- and high-income ones.

Considering Laos’ per capita income is around $800 a year, I’m guessing she’s on to something.

We checked it out on opening day, but frightened away by the prices, we walked a few blocks further and ordered pizza at the independently owned Swedish Baking House. (My attempt to boycott the cookie-cutter chain wasn’t entirely successful: Tony got a double scoop of cookies-n-cream in a waffle cone.)

We wandered over to that neck of the woods again today. The waitresses really freak out when you try to order at the counter. They prefer that you sit at a table and peruse the menu before ordering your ice cream, even if it’s just a cone to go.

I barely had enough time to snap this photo; my ice cream was melting all over Tony’s hand. Today’s high was 99F/37C. No wonder all the upper-class fast-food junkies enjoy their treats inside.
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Daily Life, Laos

Biking to Breakfast in Thailand

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What a busy week! The weekend’s already here, and I still haven’t posted anything from LAST weekend.

Last Sunday, I cycled to Thailand with a group to cheer for a few Team Dai members who were participating in a triathlon. The Thai-Lao border is only 16 kilometers from my house in Vientiane. At the border crossing, we filled out customs paperwork, got our passports stamped and pedaled across the Friendship Bridge, which spans the Mekong River. On the other side, we filled out more paperwork to enter Thailand and got another passport stamp.
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We could see the triathlon venue from the bridge, so we cycled along till we found the transition staging area. From there, we watched our friends swim by in the strong Mekong current. We cheered loud enough that Eelco actually stopped, looked up and waved! He competed in the race with his son JJ, along with another father-son team, Maurice Sr. and Jr. When they got out of the water and jumped on their bikes, we hollered some more, and Eelco’s wife Nicolette actually stopped them for a quick chat.

Standing on the banks of the Mekong in Thailand, we looked across at Laos and down at our friends swimming in the triathlon.
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Maurice and Maurice pull their bikes out of the transition area.
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Eelco comes out with a borrowed helmet. He and JJ had forgotten theirs and almost got disqualified. Luckily our friends were standing by with their own bike helmets!
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Nicolette has a quick chat with her two boys before they tackle the cycling leg of the race.
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After the competitors took off on their bikes, we cheerleaders walked the short distance to Mut Mee Guesthouse for a nice breakfast and later cycled back to Laos. How often can you ride your bike to another country and be home in time for lunch?

Daily Life, Laos

Like Grand Central Station … if Laos had trains

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Our house sits on a main road through Thongkang Village in Vientiane. Directly across from our gate is a collection of vendors selling fruit, vegetables, dried fish, grilled meat, clothes, coffee, fruit shakes, sticky rice, air for your bike tires, eggs, toiletries and other sundries.

It’s a real hot spot.

We often open our gate to see parked tuk-tuks with drivers napping in the back, cars left running while their owners grab some lunch, schoolchildren in uniform purchasing icy drinks on a hot day, stray dogs scrounging for scraps and other activity.

Once a truck-o-monks pulled up with a huge gold Buddha draped in Christmas lights and blasting music. Villagers scrambled out to throw money at it.

Today, I heard drums and singing so I wandered out to find this crew. They might be representatives of the village temple. Not sure. (Yeah, the composition is pretty lame. I snapped it too quickly.)
Village Alms Collectors

Again, the locals were dropping money in the silver pot. So I stood in line and did the same. The lady with the glasses tied an orange string around my wrist and rattled off what I think was a blessing. As I dropped my 5,000-kip note (about 60 cents) into the pot, I saw the pile of other bills and realized I was giving about 10 times the usual donation. Rookie mistake. Maybe my blessing was actually the Lao version of “Sucka!”

Oh, notice the jackets and hats? That’s because today’s high is a bone-chilling 85F/29C degrees. When you’re used to temps in the 100s, you gotta bundle up on days like this.

Daily Life, Laos

Lovin’ the Lantern Bug

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Sitting under my mango tree a few weeks ago, I looked up to see this guy on a branch. I ran inside to get my camera, shrieking for Tony the whole time.
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I had to balance with one foot on my patio table and one foot braced against the tree to get a close enough shot, and I was scared the whole time that the bizarre bug would suddenly attack my face or blast venom from its freaky nose. Fortunately, it just sat there. Later that evening it was gone, and we’ve never seen it or any of its ilk again.

I’ve been trying to find out the name of that strange yard guest, but when I did a Google image search of “laos insects,” the results featured mainly edible market fare. Today, I gave it another whirl. I entered “Laos insect long nose.” Score!
Turns out our little visitor is known as Pyrops candelaria, although his friends call him Lantern Bug.

Here’s some info from the Lantern Bug website:

The lantern bug can grow from 1.5 to 3 inches long from head to thorax and has a wingspan of about 2 to 2.5 inches wide, depending on the species. It has a long beak, called its rostrum, which it uses to suck the juice out flowers and fruits. The lantern bug is an herbivore. Lantern bugs are called thus because of their bright usually contrasting colors. Their actual coloring varies for each genus but the colors are bright enough for them to earn their name, despite the fact that no lantern bug actually emits any light at all.

Daily Life, Laos

Feelings About Footy

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Working overseas with a diverse group of colleagues is a sure-fire way to discover how little you know.

Oh, I thought I knew about football. Kids (usually boys) play it in high school, decked out in lots of protective gear. After graduation, it becomes a spectator sport associated with terms such as “first down” and “10 yards to go” and “touchdown.”

Teaching abroad, I quickly found out that my understanding of “football” was limited to “American football,” a virtual nonentity beyond U.S. borders.

In Turkey, I learned that “football” meant “soccer.” Round ball, no downs, no yards, no hands, no pads. You score a goal, not a touchdown.

In China, I met quite a few Australians and New Zealanders for whom “football” meant rugby. Elliptical ball, forward kicking, backward passing, no protective gear. You score a try.

Now here we are in Laos, and I went to my first Australian Rules football game yesterday. This “football” was the most unfamiliar one yet. Oval field and ball. Lots and lots of running, bouncing the ball every few steps, passing with a volleyball-esque fist pop, four goalposts, brutal tackling (again, no protection; we Americans are such wussies). You score a goal or a behind.

Our local team, the Lao Elephants, had never trained together, and I heard that some of the guys were playing the sport for the first time. Their opponents, the Vietnam Swans, were a bit intimidating with their flashy uniforms and organized warm-up drills.

Aussie friends Kimbra and Simon sent their tips from Shanghai:

Our advice for the footy is swear a lot, call out “oh come on” a lot, call out “too high” a lot, call out “held ball” a lot, call out “ball” a lot and, when the player on the opposite team needs to concentrate, call out “chewy on your boot.”

I particularly liked that last one, although I didn’t understand it. I tried it out at a pub the night before the game … except that I botched it and said, “Chew on your booty!” The Australians at the pub assured me this was NOT something to yell at the game. After checking my e-mail again, I got the phrase right, and I was informed that it refers to “chewy” aka “chewing gum” being stuck on an opposing player’s “boot” aka “shoe,” thus mocking his inability to run. So much to learn, so little time.

My sports-flunky take on Aussie Rules: Like I do with most sporting events, I tended to chat with fellow spectators more than actually watch the game, and despite patient explanations from those around me, I couldn’t really follow the action or make any sense of the scorekeeping. However, I found it fast, exciting and entertaining. That’s more than I can say for American football.

For me, though, “footy” is still just a sock.

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You might recognize a couple of the guys from the Team Dai photos. Pauly (back row, far left) and Paa (second row, far left) were on the support crew, and Adam (back, third from right) cycled with the team.
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The nurse who usually attends these games apparently couldn’t make it. Ingrid, who works for ElefantAsia was put in charge, so she brought along an elephant first aid kit that they distribute to mahouts (elephant caretakers/trainers).
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A possible explanation for the Vietnam team’s triumph.
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Daily Life, Laos

Team Dai 2010 – A Few Final Thoughts…

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Amazingly we experienced very few casualties – human or mechanical. Every bike and every rider made it to the finish line, not necessarily in top form, but that didn’t matter. Over three days, we had a total of four flat tires, fortunately belonging to riders who – unlike me – knew how to fix them. Several of us had problems with our gears and chains. My chain fell off repeatedly on that last day, and I often had to turn back down mid-hill to get all the parts working again before tackling the ascent. One rider, Nanny, actually had to get off her bike and manually move the chain if she wanted to shift gears. As we wrapped up our ride, Nanny turned to me and said, “Well, I think we learned a valuable lesson about buying cheap, crappy bikes!” Ain’t that the truth?!

Physically, I’m a wreck. In addition to the predictable sore muscles, windburn and chafing, I’m also black and blue. No, I didn’t fall off my bike. But I DID fall down a short flight of stairs at the first hotel. I didn’t trip; I just toppled over backwards and banged up my elbow and leg. I also sustained some minor injuries the morning after we arrived in Phonsavanh, when we visited the Plain of Jars. How can you visit human-sized jars and not feel compelled to climb inside one? I scraped up my knees pretty badly. Serves me right. On the way out of the archeological site, we saw a big sign warning tourists not to climb all over the jars.

As my sister Megan said so supportively this morning, “No offense, but I just can’t believe YOU did it.” I’m not offended because I, too, can’t believe it. In January, when we started training in earnest, I doubted my ability to complete the three-day ride, and that nagging insecurity plagued me right up until we arrived at the ice-cream shop in Phonsavanh. For some riders in our group, athletic challenges are a drug, and maybe their sense of accomplishment was muted by so many other similar ones. For me, this was most likely a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I’m savoring it.

Team Dai held a promotional event Friday at the COPE Visitor Center here in Vientiane to present the big prop “check” to our three beneficiaries: COPE, Handicap International, and Deak Kum Pa Orphanage. Through private donations and raffle ticket sales, we raised more than $17,000. If you visit the Team Dai website, you can see a list of all the private donors. On that list of 122 people, I can proudly claim a disproportionate 15 friends and family members. I feel deeply grateful for your generosity and heart-felt support. Thank you so much!

Posing with the big check.
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Drawing the raffle tickets. That’s a mobile made from the “bombies” at the COPE Visitor Center.
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One of our riders, Mark, won the Amazon gift certificate.
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Last night, we had a big celebration at the Mekong-side home of team member Jeremy. Grete couldn’t make it, but she sent a box of chocolates, including big chocolate letters spelling out “TEAM DAI.”
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Our fearless leader, Wil, is moving back to Australia, but Maurice has agreed to take over the helm for next year. I’ve thought a lot about whether I’ll do it again. Most likely, I’ll find another obsession. That’s the way I work. But it sure was a wild ride!

Laos, On the Road

Phonsavanh Tour & Homeward Bound

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Our three-day bicycle trek ultimately dropped us in Xieng Khuang Province, which is generally known for two things: unexploded ordnance (UXO) and the Plain of Jars.

Here’s what the Lonely Planet guidebook says about UXO in Xieng Khuang:

Unexploded munitions, mortar shells, white phosphorus canisters (used to mark bomb targets), land mines and cluster bombs of French, Chinese, American, Russian and Vietnamese manufacture left behind by nearly 100 years of warfare have affected up to half of the population in terms of land deprivation and accidental injury or death. A preponderance of the reported UXO accidents that have occurred in Xieng Khuan happened during the first five years immediately following the end of the war, when many villagers returned to areas of the province they had evactuated years earlier. Today about 40% of the estimated 60 casualties per year are children, who continue to play with found UXO – especially the harmless-looking, ball-shaped ‘bomb light units’ (BLUs, or bombies) left behind by cluster bombs – in spite of warnings. Hunters also open or attempt to open UXO to extract gunpowder and steel pellets for their long-barrelled muskets – a risky ploy that has claimed many casualties. Several groups are working steadily to clear the province of UXO, including the Lao National UXO Programme (UXO Lao), financed by a UN trust fund that has significantly increased the availability of multilateral aid for this purpose.

I took these shots at a UXO visitors center.
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We had a few spare hours before our flight back to Vientiane on Tuesday, so we hired a couple vans to take us out to see the Plain of Jars. The 2,000-year-old stone jars are scattered across several areas on the outskirts of Phonsavanh and remain a mystery. Were they used for human burial? Wine fermentation? Rice storage? Nobody knows for sure.

The UXO has to be cleared before they can excavate the jars.
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Here’s a marker at one Plain of Jars site that shows the area has been cleared of UXO.
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Nina (from the UK), Nanny, me, Julie. Nanny and Julie are both from my mom’s neck of the woods in Philadelphia. Small world!
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Oops, my bad.
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After a quick lunch, we headed to the bustling Phonsavanh Airport and caught our flight home.
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Laos, On the Road

Team Dai 2010 – Day THREE – Are We There Yet?

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Day Three
Despite my muscles screaming in protest, I somehow mustered enthusiasm comparable to our first day’s adrenaline rush. Maybe it was the knowledge that it would all be over soon. Maybe it was the promise that the last 35 kilometers would be flat (which turned out to be a massive lie). Maybe it was the chocolate. For whatever reason, this was an awesome day.

The highlight was an extremely long downhill switchback (reported to be around 20+ kilometers/12+ miles) through lush forest and flowering trees. Few vehicles invaded my zen, but I did freak myself out when I looked down at my bike computer to realize I was zooming along at 53 kmh (32 mph) just before a sharp gravelly bend in the road. Reality check. Brakes. All was good.

The hills never really stopped, but we had a tailwind most of the time, and I felt re-energized every time I crested the top and sped back down.

We broke for lunch at the only restaurant around, but unfortunately it had closed. We sat on its shady deck overlooking a murky pond. More fruit. More chocolate. More granola bars. More motivation to get to the end of this day and eat a real meal. At the end of our break, I headed to the restroom, and when I emerged everyone was gone. I took up the rear with Wil, our wonderful coach and organizer, who always hung back to make sure we didn’t leave anyone behind. I rode hard to try to catch up, but I didn’t reach the team till the next rest stop. I wasn’t the only one who’d been ditched during bathroom breaks, so I didn’t take it personally. The end was in sight, and we were all very excited.

After another 15 kilometers, we regrouped to ride the last stretch together. The van led for a while, blasting “Eye of the Tiger” from the stereo. Finally, we arrived in Phonsavanh! Just a bit further, and we stopped at an ice cream shop (owned by a rider’s colleague’s family) for hugs of jubilation, as well as ice cream, French fries and beer.

After celebrating our success, it was painful to get back on the bike for the short ride to our hotel, particularly because our hotel – the lovely Auberge – was perched at the top of a HILL. As usual, I felt no shame walking my bike up the steep path, and I stepped, rather than rode, across the “finish line” with a wave and a whoop.

Thick with pine trees and overlooking the valley, the hotel’s property felt like an upscale campsite. After a decadently long shower, I joined the others for cocktails on the restaurant balcony. Later we enjoyed a three-course French-style dinner and laughed about the funny moments along our journey. All the new riders were given nicknames. Claiming that I always seemed to look clean and rarin’ to go, they dubbed me “Fresh.” What an illusion I pulled off!

Julie and Lieven raked in some donations on a dare: 20 minutes of riding with her in a Borat costume and him in his underpants. What troopers!
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Scenes from today’s ride.
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Peggy (who rode with us on a motorcycle) must have taken this shot when she stopped for gas. I love it!
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This couple from London was staying at our guesthouse in Phou Khoun. They’re riding all over Thailand, Laos and Vietnam WITHOUT support vehicles. Ugh!
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Almost there!
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Mmmmm … beer. And ice cream. And French fries.
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Stretching at the ice-cream shop.
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Our lovely cabin at the Auberge hotel.
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The view from our cabin.
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Our bikes were loaded and ready to head home in the morning.
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Cocktails on the deck, followed by fancy schmancy dinner! The pink flowers came from Maurice, a French rider, in honor of International Women’s Day. He gave them to us in the morning as we were lining up to leave Phou Khoun, and we ladies rode with them all day stuck on our helmets, bikes or jerseys.
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