Travel Journal

You must have a heart of stone if you’re not charmed by this country, its spectacular scenery, and the friendly people. Although I arrived in Laos only six days ago, I immediately knew I would like this place, and I soon found out what my fellow travellers, who had visited Laos before, were raving on about.

In early history, Laos was known as Lan Xang, or Land of a Million Elephants. A former French colony, Laos gained independence in 1953, after which years of civil war followed. The US started carpet bombing eastern Laos extensively during the Vietnam war, with the aim of eliminating the North Vietnamese army and the Viet Cong, who were taking refuge in Laos and used the Ho Chi Minh trail, which ran partly through Laos, to supply their troops in Vietnam. It wasn’t until 1975 when Laos saw relative peace (and also the end of the monarchy), with the foundation of the communist Lao People’s Democratic Republic (Sathalanalat Pasathipatai Pasason Lao), or Lao PDR. Both tradition and language are very similar to those of Thailand, and the majority of the Lao are Theravada Buddhist, with animism and ancestral worship among the tribal minorities scattered around Laos. Sadly, it is also one of the poorest countries in the world.

I entered the country by taking a ferry (capacity: 6 people) across the Mekhong river, and spent the night at the sleepy village of Huay Xay, where I would take a long-distance ferry further into Laos the following morning.

The 16-hour trip was spread out over two days, on a boat that could seat about 60 people, mostly tourists. Traffic on the wide and murky brown Mekhong was not that busy, only a handful of cargo ships, while I watched the scenery of Laos on my left side and Thailand on my right, their different flags posted clearly visible on several buildings along the way. As we went further down south, and then east, the Mekhong brought us deeper into Laos, leaving Thailand behind. The scenery was quite pretty, the banks littered with rocks, further up thick forests and green hills, small villages with huts, an elephant carrying large logs. Buffaloes were grazing or taking a bath, fishermen waved their nets through the water, children were swimming. The boat stopped several times at tiny villages to let Laotians on or off. Meanwhile on the boat, a group of Irishmen and -women were celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day, consuming quantities of alcohol that would instantly kill people of other nationalities. Occasionally, a small speedboat would go by, most of its occupants wearing helmets, its 40 hp engine was so incredibly loud that your eardrums hurt.

I spent the night at the small village of Pakbeng, in the western province of Udomxai in Laos, where electricity was provided by generators to a handful of houses, while most of the small restaurants and shops only had candle light. Around 9 pm, it got quieter in the village as the locals prepared to go to bed, brushing their teeth by the side of the single road that led through the village. Generators were shut down, and after that, the only sound was that of the many crickets and geckos.

Early the following morning, our boat departed on the foggy Mekhong, for its second leg, to Luang Phabang. As the temperature rose in the morning, the fog soon cleared, and the terrain around us became more rugged, with hills and occasionally steep rock walls. In the late afternoon, we arrived at Luang Phabang, the former capital of Laos during the monarchy, and now a UNESCO World Heritage site. It is a small town, and its old center is situated on a peninsula that is formed by the Mekhong and the Nam Kham rivers. It is a charming town. Colonial villas are next to rows of old houses, with many shops selling all kinds of souvenirs, although they seem to specialise in handmade, decorated paper, and silk. There are many restaurants and cafes with delicious Laotian coffee and French croissants or baguettes. The names of the establishments are embossed on large wooden panels, elaborately decorated, the letters painted gold, hanging above the entrance. In the center of the old town is the National Museum, once the royal palace, an impressively objective exhibit of the quarters of the former kings and queens, together with a collection of ancient Buddha statues found at ruined temples all over Laos.
The Phu Si hill in the center of the town offers a beautiful view of Luang Phabang and the Mekhong and Nam Khan rivers, especially during sunset, when the Mekhong turns to an intense red, just before the sun disappears behind the mountains. Floodlights then illuminate the golden Wat Chamsi stupa on the top of the hill, providing a beacon that can be seen anywhere in the town.

The temples in the town itself are quite different from the Thai ones, mostly wood, with large patterns on the walls and columns. Inquisitive novices ask where you are from, they want to practice English with you. They are fifteen years old, but still have five years to go before they can become monks. One of them has a girlfriend, he tells me. “I love her, but only looking", he quickly adds, while he looks shyly at the ground.

While the men wear trousers or very occasionally shorts, most of the women in Luang Phabang wear long silk skirts in the brightest of colours, with a gold embroidered band at the hem, and the uniform of the primary school girls is the same, in bright blue. Even the only woman in a group of army officers, in a visit to the National Museum, wears a similar skirt, in khaki.

A one and a half hour boatride on the Mekhong river, with its occasional treacherous currents, brought me to the Pak Ou caves, at the base of a steep rock wall, plunging into the river. The caves reminded me of the ones I had seen in Thailand’s Petchaburi, but the Buddha statues here were older and more numerous. Hundreds of them, small, large, in different shapes, postures, from different materials. Inside, it was dark and cool. It had been a site of worship and prayer for over centuries.

I have spent quite a couple of days here in Luang Phabang, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere, dinner along the Mekhong, scouring the day- and night markets. But soon I will leave, to go further south, in the direction of the capital of Laos, Vientiane.

Kanchanaburi is a small town, 130 km west of Bangkok, and most famous for the fact that the infamous bridge over the River Kwai was built here during World War II. In and around the town are large graveyards for the thousands of Allied soldiers who perished in this region during the war.

Today, it’s a touristy town, especially along the River Kwai (or Mae Nam Khwae Yai), where lots of guesthouses offer bungalows or rooms on the river itself or on its banks, next to cafes and restaurants catering to western tastes (banana pancakes for breakfast, for instance). I chose a nice bungalow in a quieter area, with a view of the bridge in the distance, and spent some time on the veranda, enjoying the silence, after loud and busy Bangkok.

I rented a motorbike for a day, and visited the Erawan waterfalls (Nam Tok Erawan), some 70 km out of town. Along a 2 km track leading up through occasional thick vegetation, there were seven waterfalls with cool, clear water cascading down rocks. Shoals of fish, clearly visible in the clear water, were swimming among the Thais and farangs who were taking a refreshing dip. Some monkeys were playing around the waterfalls and in the trees, with some begging the visitors for food.

Five kilometers north of the Erawan waterfalls, the huge Sri Nakharin Dam is located, functioning as a hydroelectric power plant. There is a small park on top of the dam, with a monument dedicated to the completion of the project, two Buddha statues in front of it, and the view of the enormous lake is stunning. Small boats ferry passengers across, a lone fishing boat navigates the lake in the distance.

After a couple of days in Kanchanaburi, I traveled further up north to Sukhothai. It was Thailand’s first capital in the 13th century, before it was superseded by Ayuthaya after a little over 100 years. The great accomplishments in art and architecture during this short period are most visible in Sukhothai’s old town, or Muang Kao, 12 km from the new town. Here, over 130 Wats are scattered in and around the area, and although some have been renovated, most are in ruins. Some striking examples of Sukhothai-era art remain though, and the intruiging Ramkamhaeng Museum provides a good and interesting introduction into this style, while explaining about the area’s early history. On display is a stunning collection of Buddha statues and images, earthenware pots, and stone tablets with inscriptions in the Pallava, Khmer and Thai languages, all in various styles and with different influences. After a visit to the museum, I went to Wat Si Chum on my rented bicycle, just outside the city walls, or the earthen mounds that are all that have remained of them. As I approached the temple, an instant feeling of deja-vu came over me, although I had never been here before. I walked quickly towards the giant seated Buddha, squeezed into an open, walled building, and the closer I approached it, the more I recognised. There, its two meter long hand, with the golden fingernails. The enormous head, high above me, the face frozen in a peaceful expression, staring forward through the slight opening in the wall. I suddenly realised the reason for my sense of deja-vu: I had recognised this temple and the Buddha statue from the many postcards on which they feature, which are sold all over Thailand.

A couple of kilometers away, Wat Saphan Hin is located on a hilltop, and steps made out of rocks and boulders lead to the top of the hill, where a large Buddha stands, facing the old city. It was quiet on top of the hill, only the sound of birds could be heard in the beginning of what was going to be a very hot afternoon. I went to have lunch nearby, a spicy green chicken curry with white rice, and when I was just about to leave, two police officers who were also having lunch, invited me to their table. After the seemingly mandatory process of mentioning my country’s most famous football stars, we talked a little about Holland and Thailand, and about their work in the police force. They weren’t particularly fond of their work, but I couldn’t ascertain why, although perhaps it had something to do with the fact that there wasn’t that much crime at all in and around new and old Sukhothai. After having consumed nearly the entire content of a 500 ml bottle of whiskey, the two policemen wished me good luck with my explorations, and stepped in their unmarked sedan, and drove off. I too took off, on my bicycle, a little merrier than before, as I had thought it impolite to refuse their offers to share the whiskey.

I visited several temples, some beautifully preserved or partially restored, with large Buddha statues, including the fascinating walking-posture Buddha, typical Sukhothai style, beautiful and graceful. One of the most interesting temples was Wat Mahathat. It was the principle Buddhist temple next to the Royal Palace, located in the centre of the old town, and it features two enormous standing Buddhas, and dozens of large, seated ones. There was so much to see, so many interesting details, such beauty in what had remained of the buildings, that I suddenly felt a little panicky about the fact I had space for only 200 photos left on the memory card of my digital camera. Rows of small Buddha statues along the walls, faded and eroded by the influences of the weather but still intruiging, the remains of pillars that used to be part of the main temple, reflections of the chedis in the pond in front of the temple, a Japanese tourist bowing in front of one of the seated Buddhas. The enormous centuries-old trees around the temple are wrapped in brightly coloured silk, in reference to the Bodhi tree, where, according to the Buddhist religion, Buddha attained enlightenment.

A 30 minute ride on a song thaew taxi (literally meaning “two rows", being the two benches found in the rear passenger area, it’s a pickup truck converted for carrying passengers and some cargo) brought me back to new Sukhothai, where I would leave the following morning for the northern city of Chiang Mai, which I have visited two years ago.

Among with many other countries in South East Asia, Thailand is currently suffering from a drought that is affecting most of its provinces, leaving communities living off agriculture struggling to get by. The effects were quite visible on the way to Chiang Mai, the landscape extremely dry, rivers now turned into dried-out river beds. The government has even gone as far as spraying chemicals on clouds to invoke rain, which hasn’t been very succesful, leaving many eagerly awaiting the start of the rain season.

Although still familiar, a lot in Chiang Mai has changed, and it can be very touristy in places. Its city walls reconstructed, the old city center is small and charming, and there are many beautiful Buddhist temples in a relatively small area. The famous night bazaar sells everything from handicraft to fake watches, cd’s and DVDs, incense, clothes and food. It’s mostly visited by tourists, however, and you need to bargain hard to get a good price. Nearby is the more authentic Warorot Day Market, selling basically everything you can think of, where especially in the weekends it can be very busy with Thais stocking up for the following week.

I will spend a couple of days here in Chiang Mai, before I will leave Thailand by crossing the Mekhong River into Laos, a country I don’t know that much about, and which I’m quite eager to explore.

Last week, King Bhumibol Adulyadej opened the first session of parliament, urging the politicians to work in harmony and according to the wishes of the Thai people, among fears that the new one-party government may become authoritarian. On special occasions such as these, the King resides in his Royal Palace, in the vicinity of two of the most famous Buddhist temples in Bangkok: Wat Pra Kaew and Wat Pho.

Wat Pho is a large temple complex featuring a 15 meter high and 46 meter long reclining Buddha, the second largest in Thailand, quite impressive. The inner and outer galleries around the temples are lined with more than 700 Buddha statues of various styles, the largest collection of Buddha images in Thailand. There are tall stupas decorated with pieces of earthenware, built in honour for the first four kings of the Chakri dynasty, and tucked away are small, quiet courtyards with plants, near the monk’s quarters.

The larger Wat Pra Kaew features the famous Emerald Buddha, of significant importance to many Thais, as they visit this temple from all over the country to pray, amid curious farangs (foreigners). High up, surrounded by dozens of other Buddha statues, the Emerald Buddha almost seems to give out a green glow, and your eyes are automatically drawn to it. The entire grounds are breathtaking, with a large golden chedi against a blue sky, elaborate murals with Thailand’s history and depictions from the Buddhist religion. The many temples are grandiose, so elaborately decorated that one could spend hours studying just one. Prayer ceremonies go on everywhere, people placing flowers near Buddha statues, lighting candles, burning incense, or frozen in a wai, the traditional gesture of greeting and prayer in Thailand. Even foreign children go quiet as they enter the serene environment of a temple, they point the glittering of gold out to their parents, who stand gazing silently at the display. Hours go by as you walk through the complex in the hot weather, and when you leave the grounds, you find yourself once again in the noisy atmosphere of a busy Asian capital. It makes me realise again what I find so charming about Bangkok, most likely the most western place in the whole of Thailand, how this city can be so modern and traditional at the same time.

There are huge, modern, air-conditioned shopping malls where products are on display that the majority of the Thai people can’t afford. Yet it is nice to remain inside for a while, just browse around in the cool air, it can be extremely hot in Bangkok. And then, on the streets, the many foodstalls, with very cheap yet delicious food from all parts of the country. Isan chicken or spicy vegetable mix, southern spicy curries, sticky rice, pork marinated in red curry paste, fried chicken, satay, and of course lots of fresh fruit, sometimes dipped in sugar, sometimes in spicy chilly mix. Delicious smells of food everywhere. There are small yet wonderfully decorated cafes and restaurants, hidden away in a lush garden, where food and drinks are cheap yet delicious. Or you go to one of the hundreds of thousands of family restaurants, indoors or on the streets, where the daughters (age 7 or up) take your order, mum or dad cooks the food, where the food is cheapest and nearly always most delicious.

You’ll find the little ghosthouses everywhere, Buddha statues, Hindu shrines, on just about every corner of the street and (in the case of ghosthouses) in every building or house, sometimes decorated with lights, always with flowers and offerings. Then the many Buddhist temples, of which Wat Pho and Wat Pra Kaew are only two of hundreds located everywhere in Bangkok, grandiose, beautiful, serenely quiet. The smell of incense everywhere, so many different kinds of Buddhas, cast out of iron, made out of stone, gold, silver, bronze. Not far, the sound of monks, chanting in an adjacent building. The sound of Bangkok’s busy traffic reduced to a barely audible hum, and for a moment you forget once again you’re in a city that you would otherwise consider as very western.

People everywhere are friendly, helpful, genuinely interested, even in this western enclave of Thailand. The wai greeting performed by so many is to me the ultimate sign of being welcomed. You have an iced drink at a cafe to cool off in the scorchingly hot weather, and a pickup truck goes by, packed with construction workers, both men and women. They smile and wave at you. High above, a BTS skytrain is on its way to the next station, whizzing quietly by on its monorail. Motorbike taxi drivers with orange vests crisscross through traffic with a passenger on the back seat. And then the characteristic sound of a tuktuk tricycle, loud and polluting, even louder as it accelerates down the street.

While in this city, I experienced Makha Bucha, a national holiday celebrating the day that Buddha held a sermon in front of 1250 enlightened monks who came to listen without any prior call. Hundreds of people had gathered at the Wat I had chosen to go to, Wat Traimit, near the Hua Lamphong trainstation. A dozen monks, all holding candles, came to the entrance of the Wat, where a small Buddha statue was displayed. The abbot stood in front of a microphone, and spoke in Thai, explaining why this day was special. Then he led a prayer, which was recited by the whole crowd, it reminded me of the ‘Our Father’ in the Christian religion. What followed, was a walk around the temple, led by the monks, the large crowd behind them, every member holding a burning candle, and usually flowers and incense. The procession is called the vien tien (literally, ‘circumambulate candle’). After three rounds around the temple, people placed the flowers, candles and incense near Buddha statues or sometimes at the base of a tree near the temple, and prayed to Buddha.

After quite a while in Bangkok, it was time for me to leave, but not before I made a short excursion to Kanchanaburi, a small town two hours west of the capital.

Election Day is one of Thailand’s busiest holidays. On the evening before, hundreds of thousands of Thai try to make their way home to spend time with friends and family, and to vote in their home district.

As I had been invited to stay with a Thai family in north eastern Thailand, I too wrestled my way through thousands and thousands of other commuters in a completely packed Chatuchak Bus Station, near Mo Chit in the north of Bangkok. Outside at the bus platforms, the same sea of people and chaotic scenes as arriving buses were immediately surrounded by hundreds of people, who all tried to get on board simultaneously. My two accompanying Thai friends didn’t give up though, and we eventually reached the right bus, heading for the northeastern town of Sakhon Nakhom, and even managed to get seats.

The eleven hour journey took us to the region that is known as Isan, from the Sanskrit name for the Mon-Khmer Isana kingdom, which flourished before the 9th century AD. Lao and Khmer influences are quite apparent in Isan culture and language. It’s also the poorest region of Thailand, and it sees very little tourists.

Early in the morning of Election Day, we arrived at a deserted bus station in the small town of Sakhon Nakhom, and a two hour taxi ride brought us to our eventual destination, a small hamlet a couple of kilometers south of Nakhom Phanom, a town on the banks of the Mekhong river, bordering Laos. Dirt roads connected a handful of wooden houses and a solitary Wat (temple), as we arrived at the house of the family I had been invited to stay with. The hospitality and kindness with which I was received by every member of the family was heartwarming. Food and drinks were quickly brought out and every five minutes or so someone asked me if everything was okay for me, and soon friends and neighbours came to have a look at the foreigner.

The house of the family consists of an open ground floor, two concrete walls that surround the area where you sit during the day and which is used as a dining area. The rest of the house is made out of wood, and stairs lead up to the only room, a large one divided into three sleeping sections. During the day, it’s too hot to be upstairs, so the family sits downstairs, surrounded by the chickens and the occassional waterbuffalo. To the back, there’s a stove, and a shed serving as bathroom.

A polling station had been set up in a building adjacent to the Wat, on the ground floor underneath the monks’ quarters, and I watched as my friends voted. The outcome of the elections is now known of course, with the Thais Love Thais Party (Phak Thai Rak Thai) of Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra the clear winner, with over 375 seats of the 500 seat parliament. However, Phak Thai Rak Thai lost in nearly all regions of Thailand’s troubled south, and the Prime Minister now has gone as far as calling a joint session of both houses of parliament, which has only happened twice before in Thailand’s history, during moments of national crises. The apparent aim is to get a consensus on a solution for the end of the violence that is continuing in the southern regions on a daily basis. Here in Isan, everything was quiet of course, the only indication of the importance of this day were the handful of election posters, none of which for candidates of Phak Thai Rak Thai.

In the evening, all of the daughters in my host family prepared dinner, which consisted of around four different meals, including green chicken curry, marinated pork, fish, vegetables, and of course rice. An aunt and two uncles, who live next door, had been invited, and together we ate the delicious food. Afterwards, I had a shower in the bathroom, which has a large water reservoir next to a squat toilet. You use plastic buckets to scoop up water so you can have a shower, or to flush the toilet. As everyone went to bed early (as they do most nights, around 9 or 10 pm), I did too, spending the night in the only room, falling asleep to the sound of crickets.

On the day after Election Day, we went to the market in the nearby town, using a tuktuk that seemed to service the entire hamlet, its driver frequently invited to enjoy some food or drinks, as it brought people to nearby Nakhom Phanom and back, usually arriving back in the hamlet packed with both groceries and people. We paid a visit to the monks in the nearby Wat, bringing them food and basic groceries, as so many Thai do once every month or so. In return, we were blessed by a monk who looked more than a hundred years old, who recited prayers as he sprayed holy water over us, and bound a piece of white string around our wrists, while mumbling a prayer.

Just before we left, the parents took turn in blessing us and wishing us a safe trip, by doing the same thing the monk had done earlier, binding a piece of white string around our wrist while saying a prayer. My two friends and I then took the coach back to Bangkok. A long journey back to the busy city, and I felt both grateful for the amazing hospitality with which the family had received me, and of course sad to have to say goodbye. It took me quite a while to fall asleep on the bus, and early next morning, I woke up to the sights and sounds of busy Bangkok.