January 31, 2004

Muang Ngoi

Muang Ngoi, Laos

Anita's flying visit finished today and she headed off by plane to Angkor Wat in Cambodia. Forbidden to fly as I am I headed by local bus up to the north. My first stop was the town of Nong Khiaw, four hours journey away. From there it was a one hour boat trip up the Nam Ou (that's a river) to the small village of Muang Ngoi.

Once a quiet fishing and farming village, it's now a quiet backpacker village. They still fish and farm but the majority of the cash these days is from guesthouses. Despite this radical change of direction the village is still marvellous. Nestling on one bank of the river with steep mountainsides rising on all around.

I arrived mid-afternoon. Just enough time to settle in to my hammock and spend a few hours watching the sunset.

The next day I headed off with a couple of others, Michel and Pierre-Hughes, to explore a nearby cave. The entrance was via a stream and we were soon wading up to our waists, then our chests, then our necks. In a larger chamber ahead we could see a couple of candles and soon met up with a trio of French-Canadians, Manu, Raja, and Joëlle, also exploring the cave. They had wisely brought some insurance against failing torches.

As a group we explored for some time. Mostly wading waist deep through the slowly flowing stream. Eventually all streams were explored and we returned, thoroughly soaked, to the entrance.

We then continued for another half hour or so through dry rice fields to a further village. It's only concession to tourism being a couple of bungalows and a small cafe where we had a late lunch before eventually returning to Muong Ngoi.

The next day we trekked much further to a mountain-top village. Whilst there we ran into another Canadian couple, Greg and Marie-Eve, who were trekking further and staying overnight in a remote village. As we discovered later, upon reaching the village a ceremony was in progress. Our friends' guide ushered them in to the village only to discover that such trespass during the ceremony was strictly forbidden. The penalty? 500000 kip and two pigs. Having left all their pigs behind there was no choice but to negotiate. Greg and the guide were summoned to the chief's hut where, amongst much drinking of Lao Lao whiskey, the debate commenced. Forty-five minutes later the penalty is down to 100000 kip. Still too much. "We must ask the gods!", they say. After a brief consultation the gods apparently say 50000 kip. About $5. Done!

The next day we went kayaking up the river. Fairly uneventful except when I lost my bungalow key. I didn't realise until I got back and had to explain to the owners that they needed to break the padlock off the door. Some judicious use of a claw hammer and half-an-hour later a new padlock was in place. "How much for the new lock?", I ask. "5000 kip". About 50 cents. I gave 10000 since the bracket was wrecked also. Ten minutes later the lady of the family brings me back the extra 5000 kip, insisting I take it. That would never happen elsewhere in south-east Asia.

The new group had decided to leave the next day. The owners of our regular restaurant wanted to say thanks for our patronage with a Basli ceremony. We
gathered around a large silver centrepiece covered in flowers and offerings. The elderly members of the family chanted the words of the ceremony before tying a number of strings around our wrists, all the while chanting incantations. They believe that we each have many guardian spirits but that those spirits are usually away from us, doing their own thing. By performing the ceremony they bring the spirits back to us to provide protection as we travel.

Tempting as it was to stay longer we finally left the next day. This time taking a boat all the way to Luang Prabang. An all day journey and an excellent way to finish my time in the north.

Posted by David at January 31, 2004 01:52 AM