ที่ตีพิมพ์: 19.11.2023
After the long bus ride, I was really looking forward to some exercise and immediately upon arrival I booked a 2-day trekking tour for the next day. The next morning, however, the manager of the agency came to me very excited; the other two participants were stuck somewhere and couldn't make it in time. Do I mind if I don't start my tour until the next day? No, not really, I also wanted to look around Luang Namtha. I did that and explored the little nest on foot. According to their own statements, THE trekking paradise in Southeast Asia is about to go bad. However, it is not very geared towards tourists! At least outside the main street, where the ladies of a certain tribe, who used to make their living by growing opium, sell their bracelets diligently and obtrusively. So far they are really the only demanding people and you can get rid of them quickly with half a minute of rude ignorance.
After the short climb to the stupa (the/the stupa??), I wanted to visit the waterfall, 34 km away. With only a rough idea of the direction, I quickly became unsure. When I suddenly found myself standing in front of a uniformed gentleman, camera in hand, looking for beautiful motifs, I was momentarily unsettled. Already on the bus ride I noticed the proximity to China. On the one hand by a sign that pointed to the border crossing in around 40 km, and also by the many Chinese characters. China has a lot of influence here and takes full advantage of the poor, dependent country and, for example, has the beautiful forests cleared. Among the tourists there are many Japanese, Chinese and other Asians (I have to admit, I can't always tell the nationalities apart right away), some of whom misbehave quite badly.
On the way to the waterfall the path took me through some poor villages. The reaction of the residents was sometimes astonished, sometimes curious, especially children, or simply indifferent. I had been pondering for a long time what exactly was wrong with me or whether there weren't that many tourists getting lost here. No, that can't be the case, the waterfall is the highlight and there certainly aren't several streets. A moped slowed down next to me and a curious one young man asked me what I was doing? I pointed towards the waterfall and wanted to make sure I was in the right place. Yes, that's the right direction, but why am I running?
Ah, so that was it. It was less about me and more about the fact that I was running. In retrospect, I noticed that you only run the bare essentials here. As I said, it's still a long way from trekking paradise. In the afternoon on the way back it was as you would imagine: small children playing stark naked in the river to cool off and adults taking care of the rice fields and the banana trees or corn harvest.
In the evening, after a soothing shower, I sneaked past my doorman again, from whom it was very difficult to get a smile (perhaps that's the more Chinese mentality, the whole hotel was labeled in Chinese, not in English), and I had all the courage summarized and entered the night market in search of something to eat. It shouldn't fail because of that. At the night market there is actually only food, everything and in all types. And that makes it difficult at first. I was grateful that a nice salesperson approached me and offered me something that I already knew and now love to eat: papaya salad, yes, also a little spicy. Delicious! Plus a few spring rolls and a large Beerlao. And all of this for very little money. As soon as I was placed, the rain started again, but my saleswoman allowed me to make myself comfortable under the stand. And a short time later I was joined by a New Zealander with whom I had a lively conversation about his home country and its problems and how to deal with the fact that it doesn't have any problems. It's exciting what you learn from fellow travelers about their home countries. Somehow you not only get to know the specific country you are traveling to but also the whole world a little bit better.
So now it was time to actually go trekking. Well, there was another change of plans. Do I mind that there is only one day of trekking and then the other day is filled with a kayak tour? It would also be possible to stay overnight with a tribe and I would still get my money back. Well, what choice did I have? Between you and me, I suspect that all tour requests were simply thrown together, regardless of what you had previously booked. But no matter, I wanted to experience something! And that's what I did!
A short detour to the morning market (yes, there is that too! There is a lot of food there too, but more raw than ready-made and also everyday things from the non-food department) to shop for lunch and then spend half an hour with it Tuk-tuk to start our hike. The group was quite international and a good atmosphere quickly developed as some of them probably already knew each other from the bus ride the day before.
It was extremely humid, as it had been the whole time, but now we were moving, uphill. And on pretty muddy, very narrow paths. Every now and then someone would slip and quickly their shoes and clothes would be soaked from top to bottom. After 2 hours we stopped to rest. Aha! Like right now? A fire was quickly stoked in the previously bare spot and a “kettle” and a table were set up. Made of bamboo. I had already observed that some people carry a medium-sized knife with them (including small children, by the way, who apparently have to get used to using it straight away - we would use every possible means to keep them away from sharp things!) and now it was used . With quick strokes and cuts, the thick piece, which was naturally closed by the knobs on one side, was filled with water, lemongrass and other ingredients and placed on the fire. Tables, tablecloths and even spoons were made from smaller bamboo sticks and leaves. The things we had brought with us and the soup, along with the sticky rice that was available everywhere or just like that, were spread out on the table and eaten with our fingers, as was apparently usual. It was delicious! And apart from a few plastic bags, we had no rubbish; the rest was disposed of in the forest along with banana leaves.
After lunch we continued strengthened. The monsoon also strengthened and wanted to know it again today. We were wet to the skin! In between, Sai, one of our cheerful, English-speaking guides, explained what things you can eat, how the cardamom harvest works (you can guess who buys the cardamom cheaply from the villagers and exports it to Europe...) and how the travel fields are cultivated.
A final test of courage was a suspension bridge, which was also mastered by everyone. Afterwards we took a swim in the river, just like our hosts do every day for personal hygiene that night.
Initially a bit reserved, the mood relaxed as we watched the ball game (a mix of volleyball and soccer with a handball-sized ball woven from fibers) and some even made delicate attempts to join in the game. Dinner was eaten in the “living room” on the floor. Apart from our two guides and the host and his little son, no one joined us, although there were many curious looks thrown at us beforehand. The women (mother plus three daughters) did not dare. The food was just as fantastic as lunch, even if it takes some getting used to sharing food with your fingers with strangers. During the meal, questions were translated back and forth, but a simple smile was often enough for international understanding.
Tourists only come to the village every now and then, as different routes are taken during the dry season, so it was apparently a welcome change for the village. Our host, who curiously asked about our marital status and was surprised that only Derrick had children and was married, insisted on inviting us to a Lao whiskey. Well, it's hard for us to turn down an invitation like that. Before we knew it, a clay jug with two rubber hoses and all the neighbors were gathered in the living room. And then it started. Apparently there are drinking games all over the world. Two people sitting next to each other had to take the skins and drink a certain amount of whiskey, which could somehow be determined by pouring water on it. The turn around. In the second round, the amount to drink was increased. We girls got out quite early, even though the host continued to cheerfully ask us to keep up. A rice whiskey jug like this is only used on special occasions such as weddings or housewarmings. No wonder the neighbors took advantage of the opportunity! The guide explained to us that you have to be on good terms with your wife, as only women can make the whiskey. Despite many differences, there were always statements that made me think that somehow the topics that concern people are the same! ;O)
Family means a lot, if not everything. Living in very small spaces and depending on each other through customs. I have seen many fathers loving their children. At the same time, there is the greatest respect for parents. One son stays in the house with his parents to look after them, the others are allowed to build a new house. The daughters go into the husband's household. Many families have 4 or more children. When someone dies, relatives and friends stay for 3 days to comfort them. Sometimes it involves playing cards and drinking.
Despite the hospitality in the evening, the night involved a lot of waking hours. In total, four of us plus the two guides and the family of 6 slept on stilts in the airy wooden room, although separated by walls (not ceilings!). Dogs were barking, trucks with Chinese signs were speeding past on the well-developed road, the neighbors were listening to music or riding away on their mopeds. Nevertheless, you could sleep better than expected on the (rice?) mats on the floor and the blankets (I have no idea who already used them).
In the morning we were served tourist rice with scrambled eggs; the family either ate beforehand or on their own. Saying goodbye to the people (and the animals, especially the cute pet pigs) wasn't that easy, but we still wanted to go kayaking. Another 3 people were foisted on us for this day tour. Since I've never kayaked in my life and got a little nervous when I saw the helmet and life jacket, I chose the most experienced person to share the kayak with me. Derrick, well over 50 (to be diplomatic, he didn't want to reveal his real age the night before during the whiskey round) was now my partner and was very patient with me at the beginning about when I should paddle and on which side. We actually did quite well, even if we wandered around a bit haphazardly from time to time. But when the river got wilder, we got stuck on a tree too quickly, out of control, the kayak tipped over and Ines swallowed a whole load of water and hit her legs badly. Good thing I wore a vest and helmet! That didn't happen to me again, but unfortunately it catapulted Derrick out of the boat twice, so I even had to paddle completely alone for a part, which I didn't feel comfortable with at all. There was another stop for lunch, which our host family had prepared for us in the morning, and one at another village that didn't even have electricity. All in all, it really knocked everyone out of the boat and some paddles were no longer seen, as well as various abrasions, blisters and sunburns, but all in all the two days were a real adventure! Will I go kayaking again? Not at first!