Strange day

The woman from the local herbal medicine shop invited me in and gave me a drink. It smelled and tasted wonderful, like a rich honeyed mulled wine but with layer upon layer of unfamiliar spices. After one glass I went home and slept for hour upon hour of completely restful sleep which felt so wonderful after such a long time of showering several times in the night just to cool down. I awoke at 9 am - around 4 hours later than usual, and the following night slept even longer. It felt fantastic.

While I had been talking to her, she had invited me to her garden at the weekend. It is a fairly typical situation to have a town house and a garden a few kilometres out of town. She told me that her family go there often at the weekend, there were pools where you could swim, I could bring my puppy, and we'd have a picnic. I had this image of the whole family snipping and pruning, digging and weeding the mystical herbs - maybe they would teach me about the different uses and as my Laos gets better I would become more and more knowledgeable.

I was told to arrive at 7am. Not a minute later! When I arrived they were all sleepy. We ate some breakfast together and we were each given a spoonful of a thick sticky black syrup to drink. I drank mine first - something like malt extract made bitter, very bitter. The children wiggled and squirmed trying to escape their grandmother's clutches as she administered the morning medicine. They were ready for the bitterness.

Eventually we were ready to go. The car was loaded up with provisions - three or four cases of beer, several ice boxes full of food, pepsi, the Lao equivalent of Red Bull. And off we went five of us in the cab and several more strewn across the back, leaning on the crates and boxes.

They didn't look dressed for gardening - the grandson who (shall we say is more in touch with his feminine side) wore a white lace halterneck top and white hotpants, the others a little more soberly dressed but I could see that not much gardening was planned - maybe the old lady and I would do the gardening whilst the kids all played in the garden. She had told me of course of the pools I could swim in. And it was all boys and men who'd joined us - the women had stayed behind.

We stopped at several shops en route. Each one sold fish - small ones in tanks, but it wasn't until the fifth one that they came out with a couple of cut off water bottles, a small black fish in each. And off we set. Around 18 kilometres outside town we turned on to a dirt track at a sign for a fish garden. This sounded wonderful. After driving for a couple more kilometres until the track ended we all piled out.

The animals all greeted us as we carried the food to the building, a weird restaurant with a very basic kitchen to the side. They opened up the kitchen as I sat to one side on one of the benches that looked like those in a sauna, three levels of thin benches. I put the dog in one of the big circular ponds in the middle of the room. It seemed a bit strange to have these concrete ponds in the middle like this but I guessed that they had been there when they bought the place as they were now carpeted so obviously hadn't seen any fish for a long time. I tried to help but I was the honoured guest so wasn't allowed to. I got a bit bored so went off for a wander. The dogs were mangy and thin didn't begin to describe them scrawny puppies sheltered from the sun. The geese looked healthy but the chickens looked really rough - most of them had bearly any feathers. The goats looked good though, as did the ducks.

We wandered down to the pond, right next to the loo. It didn't look inviting. The water was muddy, there was rubbish in the pond and I didn't like to think were the toilet emptied itself! So a swim was most definitely out. We (puppy and I) wandered back to the restaurant. The boys had emptied the two new fish into one bottle and were all sat around staring intently. I think it was at this point I subconsciously realised what today was about but consciously I just mused at how amazingly capable of doing absolutely nothing people are here - I just get stupidly bored.

I got back to the restaurant - no sign of any gardening happening and they wouldn't let me help. There was nothing much to do and they showed me to a bed and suggested I have a sleep before lunch. As I'd had less than four hours sleep the night before, this really appealed. My puppy and I fell asleep quickly and woke to the noise of many many excited men. Hundreds of motorcycles were now in the parking area and the men were all on the benches around the circular pits, yelling and laughing, betting and eating. Suddenly I realised with a sinking feeling what was going on - the pits, the three levels of seating, the cocks with their feathers missing, and the fish - this was a day of cockfights. Even the boys had been watching fighting fish.

I felt like I was in the outer reaches of hell. I really did not want to see cockfighting - even though I could hear it - I just wanted to get out of there, but I was twenty kilometres from home with no transport and no lift back for 9 hours. I decided to walk. Even if no bus or songthaew came along I'd still be home sooner and away from this place immediately. Someone phoned me then and as no one there spoke any English this gave me the opportunity to lie about a problem at home that I had to deal with immediately. The walk to the main road wasn't bad and almost as soon as I got there the bus arrived - just 40 cents for the bus home. I felt very tired.

We set off early for the waterfall and at the first garage filled the jeep with petrol. Half a kilometre further along a passing motorist yelled to the monks in the back that petrol was pouring from the car. We stopped. I had to U turn to get to the garage, following a monk on a motorbike! I was watching where he was going and didn't notice as the lights changed - stupid. I pulled to a halt in front of the police box where I discovered that the monk card does beat the foreigner card - I'm fairly sure that without them in the back of the jeep, I'd have had a substantial amount demanded (and possibly the jeep impounded for good measure). Definitely the documents checked and I was a little nervous as my passport and ID card are both off with immigration for the updated work visa to go on, though I figured my driving licence would count now that I have a Laos one. Anyway the policeman just asked me to reverse. Hooray.

The garage took around three or four hours to fix the car. Apparently the weight of the fuel had opened up a rust hole, hence the fuel pouring on the road. They took the thing to pieces as I panicked about the cost. I wandered off to look at a wood shop I'd passed. I fancy getting a blanket box made and thought one of the attractive doors would make a great front. Saw one I loved - beautifully hand carved. $1450 though is a little steep for me! Was stunning though.

Anyway, got back to the garage. They assured me that the work was nearly done, but the engine was still in bits next to the empty car. I sat at the back next to a small lake with coconut trees reflecting beautifully - the best mechanics lounge I've ever had to wait in. I dreaded the bill - five men seemed to be working on it. Finally they drove it round to me. They passed the bill over. One of the monks looked at it first - he knew that I was concerned about how high it would be. He looked worried - it was expensive. He handed me the bill but told me as he did that he might be able to help to pay as full moon day had just happened which meant he had a few kip. I declined him and checked the bill - 100, 000 kip. (around 5 gbp). I think it's fair to say it surprised me but maybe not in the way I expected.

We went on to the waterfall. Two late teen novice monks, three mid teen students of dance, seven week old puppy, and myself. Monks, I assume, stuggling hard with the vows as the stunning dancing girls frolicked in the water. Puppy didn't like the water and looked up at me with huge disappointment that I had put her through such an ordeal. Picnic by the river was lovely, but then scrambling over rocks to get to the waterfall, carrying very timid and scared puppy, I spent too much time looking down at her, and the rocks, not enough time looking ahead. Didn't think anyone ever really walked into a tree. Very embarrassed and a touch sore.

Spent the night in a hotel. Seemed clean but the problem with sharing a room with a puppy is that they hunt out everything they can find. Can't say it was my favourite moment ever to find myself walking to the look in the middle of the night with a used condom stuck to my foot. Yuk doesn't even start to go there!

After trying hard to find a 2007 calendar that I could actually write on, I decided to make one. It's fairly well underway, then I found out about a calendar that's produced following a photo competition. So I've entered - so maybe there will be two calendars with photos of mine on next year (maybe none I guess if they don't pick my photos and for some reason mine doesn't come off - but hopefully two). Anyway, tomorrow night is the judging so they're holding an exhibition of all the pics. It'll be an interesting evening. The theme is Wonders of Laos, so didn't bring enter any of my favourite people pics, just a couple of two of the major attractions of Laos - That Luang - the most revered stupa in Laos, and a monk looking into a jar at the Plain of Jars site.

Also tomorrow, the bods who we're hoping to take on a trip to Australia have said that they will give us their answer - so hopefully tomorrow will be a great day - not a disappointing one!

Photos as always on the flickr account. Still unable to upload them on to this site.

Life and socialising

I've almost cut out teaching - but still doing a little, and I've now had a photo exhibition confirmed for October. Should be fun. They reckon I can sell my pics for around vast amounts which would be rather lovely if it happens!

All amazing. One of the things about a capital city that's so small is that you end up socialising with such a range of people - from monks, to people who work for embassies, NGOs, artists and business people. It means I get some really interesting invites (which I can now take up as the teaching is no longer all time consuming). This week I've been to an exhibition opening, a Japanese opera, been invited to take photos at a fashion show (actually begged would probably have been a better word) but I was already busy, taken a jeep full of monks to the rabies clinic after one of them was bitten by a dog, been to a party to celebrate the anniversary of a death - and sat next to a professional singer at the meal, I'm not going to a concert tonight I've been invited to, I am going to a party tomorrow evening - after spending the afternoon at the steam baths (that may be alone as most people think I'm mad to go to a steam room in 37 degree heat), may have a massage too (steam bath and massage will cost total of around $3) and then I'm going on a picnic and boat ride with a load of pop stars on Sunday!

hoooooooooooooooot

It's a little on the warm side. The walls are radiating heat, the floors are radiating heat - even the sheets on the bed are radiating heat. I think the physical temperature has been more, but it must be the build up - I made many many visits to the shower - dive in, cold water blast (or as cold as it can get in this heat), twirl around, and lie back dripping wet under the fan trying to find the perfect spot that's cold enough to sleep!

Finally ventured out by myself - on wheels that is. Driving on the 'wrong side' was remarkably simple, avoiding the potholes less so - thank goodness for four wheel driving.

Urban skimming and bags of frogs

John wanted some photos for his article so we decided to get together for a combination of urban and traditional stoneskimming photos. Puddles, the sludge of the dug up roads, and drains were all skimmed and photoed. A novice monk joined in and then we headed down to the Mekong for something a touch more traditional.

The pics are on flickr - http://www.flickr.com/photos/jolidbetter/sets/72157600238818620/

Heading over there I shared a tuk tuk with one woman, one policeman and several rice sacks. As I got in she gently moved the bags to one side. I figured that as they had something in she didn't want damaged, I'd just sit with my feet out. They started moving. She told me what they had in them but I knew I must have misunderstood - they didn't contain shoes - must work more on the Laos! So she opened them up. Some of the frogs had swollen up to the size of a cricket ball, others just crawled over their 'mates' gasping for breath. She offered me a discount on a kilo. urgh.

Movies and holidays

I was asked to be in a movie yesterday. I have no idea what it's about. A friend of mine is making it and wants a foreigner in it as that's what they do in Thailand - they normally have stunning foreigners that they've headhunted (head and body hunted???) so not exactly crying out for me but hey - I've been on telly - why not a movie - it'll be an experience.

I'm almost certainly taking a group of Laos bods to Australia later this year. If it goes well and we enjoy the experience we'll do more. Got some other business things going on now too and so I've cut back on the teaching to try to make some of them take off. Hopefully it'll all be fun.

I've borrowed a jeep. It's fabulously being mobile - so easy to get out of the city. Seeing fishermen casting their nets, women washing clothes in the riverr, children bent over legs and arms straight and on the ground, bottom high in the air, as the mother cleans their bottom with a stick. Delightful??!!??

Hooray - radio 4

I'm having speakers fitted - which means that along with the computer and the broadband connection, I can now listen to radio 4 streamed live all the time, everywhere in the house. So happy!

Animal tales

My classroom was filled with weird flying fat maggotty things with huge lacy yellow wings today. They were divebombing me and the students and losing their wings. As the class finished one of the students turned to me and announced, as she left the room, that these insects, delicious.

Downstairs another two students told me the same thing.

Turns out the snail wasn't popular - it makes you really ill if you eat it. I carried it outside myself then left the gate ajar for it to make it's escape in it's own slow time.

And my neighbours have cut down most of my plants in the garden. Apparently some snakes were living in them and they were worried about their daughter.

All's well but busy.

More soon

Jo

Slimy house guests

I've got a visitor. A snail has arrived in my house. Now this wouldn't normally be remarkable except it's enormous. The shell is about 5 inches long and 3 inches wide. The sluggy bit's scary. How does a snail that big sneak into the house - dash in while I'm not looking? Mosquitoes struggle to get into my house yet........ I'm fascinated. And revolted - you can't keep something leaving that much slime in the house so in a minute I've got to go and remove the cardboard box. But I have a theory. I can't believe anything that large isn't snacked upon - so I'm going to get the neighbours round - wussy and generous and mean to snails all in one action.

I've found out my cow's having twins. Hooray.

Anyway, snails to deal with......................................

The amazing short tamarind tree

So the major tourist attraction for the area is the short tamarind tree. Monk, mother, sister, granny and I set off early in the morning – I’d been woken up early again as we had to get an early start. I have to admit that as tourist attractions go it didn’t quite have the oomph of the blue lagoon and caves in Vang Vieng, or 2000 islands in the south but they were all keen to get there.

We caught a songthaew for around half an hour, Then walked for another half hour. We got to a house where the whole village gathered to stare at me. No one spoke. No one. Not one person would say anything at all to me. They just stared. After a while we resumed our journey to the short tamarind tree. We walked through paddy fields – now just dry stumps, as the hot season was well underway, along the ridges between each section, the earth cracked and dry. I would guess it hadn’t rained for months. We passed buffalo. Not the black variety I had seen elsewhere – these were pink – somehow they looked naked. Elephants were ridden past us heading for the logging fields further along. A few turkeys on a wander looking for grasshoppers and frogs glanced briefly at us then continued on their way.

I was so tired. The lack of sleep was really affecting me now. I just wanted to sleep. The heat was relentless as we walked through the open fields. My head was feeling heavier and heavier. They wanted me to speed up – I wanted to take in everything and talk to people I passed. Eventually we arrived – the short tamarind tree. Except that it wasn’t short. Looked a little like an oak tree. It was lovely. Old and knarled. A fabulous climbing tree but not, in any way, short.

Odd.

Then it started raining. The dry cracks filled with water then mud as the heavy water soaked deep below the surface. We sat in the shelter of the not short tamarind tree. Then the thunder and lightening started so they said we had to go to one of the little bamboo shelters that dot the fields. We squelched through the mud, ran and slipped and reached the shelter. I wanted to sleep there – I was so tired and it looked like it would rain for a long time. The noise of the heavy rain hitting the bamboo matting of the shelter was soothing. I felt I was being sung to sleep. Then the sister started banging a nail in with her shoe. I lay there so sleepy but unable to rest. Then suddenly I was told we had to continue. It was still raining. I couldn’t understand the rush, but..... We started walking. After around 45 minutes we passed a noodle stand. A little bamboo shed with a roof that stopped about three feet off the floor. We went in but as I ducked down to get under the roof my head scraped a nail that hung down. Blood poured from my head. Everything pixelated. I sat down heavily. Touching the wound. I couldn’t see straight. I couldn’t think. I just wanted to sleep. I was so tired. Tears started pouring down my face. I couldn’t stop. I sat under that bamboo roof in the rain, surrounded by the monk’s family and I bawled. I couldn’t stop.

We got back to the house and I slept.

I slept for about 15 minutes until once again little girls sat over me giggling. I gave up. It was a tiring visit.

I can't crouch with my feet flat

How can I put this delicately???

I can’t crouch with my feet flat. The loos here are meant for people who can. And something about the resulting angle I’m in means that I’m having a problem going. The return to Vientiane (after one week away) was a huge relief to my insides. I hadn’t been at all. Got to do something about the Achilles tendon to lengthen it so I can crouch better.

I came out of the loo at the end of the garden with a stomach ache as I’d still not succeeded in going. Everyone else I know gets the opposite problem in Asia. I think I prefer it this way round but a week of not going is just ridiculous. I don’t think the enormous resident spider helps though. I’ve been assured it’s not poisonous but it’s huge so I’m a little wary of it – and if you are going to be bitten you at least want it to be somewhere like your arm.

Still at the monks family I was having sleeping problems. I’d been tired since we arrived as the monk had called me at 4.30 am to see if I was up yet. I wasn’t. The first night I’d been told that the granny would be sharing my mosquito net with me. I’m used to having the whole house to myself so the idea of sharing not just a bedroom, but a mosquito net with someone wasn’t a plan I exactly relished – but figured that there must be a shortage of mosquito nets so offered to go and buy one the following day – oops. There wasn’t. It had been a friendly gesture – she liked me and was fascinated by this weird woman who couldn’t even crouch properly, didn’t like sheat fish (as the recipe book of traditional Laos food had called the contents of the bowel which is a very popular ingredient in cooking here (when we open up fish to eat the monks will generally exclaim their disappointment on realizing that this one is depriving us of the delicacy by announcing to the others that there isn’t any fish poo today)), and didn’t know how to do the simplest thing to do with living. And I’d rejected her. She didn’t seem to mind, but I felt a bit bad.

The woman looked ancient - I was so shocked to discover she was just 60 - I'd have guessed at least 80 - probably closer to 100. And she had a horrible habit - often she went around in just a bra - weirdly I realised that these huge bras that are often on show here have an additional part under the boobs whereby money etc. can be stored in a zipped pouch. And then again she often found wearing the bra just too much effort - breasts of that age are not something I'm overly keen on being able to see that much. I was still staying at the monk’s family home and things were starting to become a little frustrating. Such lovely lovely people but the clash of cultures can be hard.

The old lady couldn't quite grasp why I hadn't spoken to her at all the first time I'd visited and why I was now speaking really badly and couldn't understand a lot of what she was saying. She had met almost no one who didn't speak Lao as a mother tongue and couldn't understand the concept. She spent a long time telling me a story - the gist of which I think I understood (but I couldn't be sure as the idea of slowing down or using simpler words wasn’t grasped at all). Basically I was better than the last foreigners that she had met. However, as she went on to tell me that they were the French colonialists who had been shooting at her this somehow wasn’t that great a compliment!
Anyway so that first night I’d had a mosquito net to myself, but I’d gone to sleep with dreadful Thai movies playing at full volume and a little row of around 6 small girls who’d all gathered to watch the weird white woman. They sat crosslegged immediately outside my mosquito net, discussing my strangeness amongst themselves as I tried to get to sleep. The fan was switched off. They were worried that I was cold. I wasn’t.

I’d love to claim that I was woken by one of the chickens that kept popping their heads into the room but it was the cat running over my hand – the chicken would have made a better story though.

I tried to get back to sleep. Then the granny came in. 5 am is obviously a perfect time to start sorting out all the pans and other noisy metal objects that were dotted around the sacks full of rice in the ‘bedroom’. I thought I’d try to ignore her. It wasn’t easy. Then a motorbike revved up right by my head – I had to be dreaming this. No. The bike was brought in for safekeeping purposes every night so that cloud of exhaust fumes noisily penetrating the mosquito net were real. I was determined not to give in. I was so tired from the trip and they would be gone in a minute. They were. But by now it was nearly 5.30 am so everyone was up and about. My diminutive audience was back. And because I was ignoring them the TV was turned up louder…..and louder…..and louder. You know how well meaning Aunties want to wake a new born baby buy know that they shouldn’t so just sabotage it’s sleep instead? I was that new born baby.

What little boys are made of

Happy New Year 2551!

The Buddhist New Year celebrations are just coming to an end - amazing times!

I took off for the countryside with one of the novice monks and escaped the heat of Vientiane for a few days.

Food was a major theme - I had a close shave on avoiding the bee larvae - going with the plan to either check beforehand or never - and this banana wrapped offering was almost in my mouth when I asked. It was 6a.m. and my stomach wasn't yet ready for that! Bags of live frogs hung from the trees and the 'door to door' saleswomen brought bags of live lizards as suggestions for a delicious afternoon snack (these were later to be seen for sale at the market lined up as a perfect photo shoot - with no camera to hand - bugger!). The frogs were eaten head first after being boiled alive and sat on the balcony after lunch I looked on bemused as the visitor was offered as a small snack one of the dead beetles that were lined up on the balustrade – funny they hadn’t offered me one!!!!! I’d caused deep consternation recently when someone had shown me their pet rabbit. Dogs and snakes are okay food, as are insects and fish poo, but rabbit is a truly terrible thing to have eaten! I bought a Laos recipe book the other day. Many many recipes for ‘sheatfish’. Took a while to realize that these were not recipes for a breed I’d not heard of – shit of the fish is probably a better way to put it!!!! There was some amazing food too – the clean taste of a soup of chicken breast in a stock with nuances of chilli and lime, and heaped with freshly cut coriander and spring onions, noodles served with stacks of mint and basil, again delicately flavoured with chilli and lime, fish, freshly caught and stuffed with lemongrass, heavily salted and barbecued then served with raw cabbage and lettuce leaves, white noodles, mint and coriander and, after you’ve made yourself a parcel from these ingredients, you dunk it into a sauce made from peanuts, dry fried, dehusked and lightly crushed, fish sauce, garlic, lime, sugar and water. Sour mangoes thinly sliced and served with a bowl of sugar, chilli, soy sauce, shallots – finely sliced, rice powder made from dry frying some grains till they are toasted and then pounding them into a rough powder. This is an excellent thickener for all manner of sauces. Laap - a minced pork (or chicken, beef, tofu, fish, etc), mint, lime and chilli mix – the key being to add an enormous amount of mint to give a fabulous flavour. Fish steamed in banana leaf baskets with red curry sauce, and chicken breasts shredded and served with all the ingredients of laap plus handfuls of bean sprouts and thinly sliced red peppers. I introduced them to the delights of sweet ripe mangoes served with sticky rice and coconut cream – made fresh from a coconut off the tree, the flesh shredded on a wooden spike and then soaked in water and rung out to make the creamy sauce. Toasted peanuts make the sweet perfect.

We caught the boat there. A six hour ride along the Mekong at breakneck speed. We skimmed the waves, zigzagging to avoid the rocks emerging from the shallow waters. They wanted to charge me double because I was a foreigner. I negotiated this down to one and a half times then realized I couldn’t fit in one seat – how do people sit on a cushion – no chair and squeeze their legs into a space which gives them little over a foot from bum to toes??????? And stay there for several hours. The extra cost no longer seemed unreasonable. As the sun shone down, bouncing off the Mekong, my nose and legs turned pink. When I was comfortable, I was in my element. The mountains loomed around us – memories of canoeing down the Zambezi, being rowed along the Ganges, and being chased by a new mother swan on the Severn all drifted through my mind. Then it started to rain. The drops slapping hard into my face – suddenly the crash helmet I’d been ignoring until now seemed an excellent accessory. I watched my rucksack darken as the rain was absorbed into the fabric – the loosely fitting helmet being whipped back off my head as we speeded across the water. My hair tangled and soaked. We stopped for some fuel. The Novice Monk bought us a bag of crisps each – our first food of the day. The chilli crisps too hot to eat. The only other option durian flavoured biscuits. Durian is a curious fruit. It smells as if someone has been sick in a drain. For me it tastes much like this too. But we’d been up since 4.30 and now it was nearly midday. I chose the drains and puke over the ridiculously hot – I’m not keen on food that hurts. My back and bottom ached from the bouncing and ridiculous seat. We passed a broken down boat and stopped to help. Presents for the novice monk’s mother had found there way into this boat so as the boat was fixed, I took back my possessions – delighted to have found them. We dropped someone off who wanted to get into Thailand illegally leaving him on the Thai side of the Mekong to find his own way. The sun broke back through the clouds and as I dried out I enjoyed the journey once more.

We sat around in the heat sipping from freshly cut coconuts in the garden during the break – the guy digging the well had emerged, thirsty from the depths and needed something sweet to snack on. When we’d eaten most of it, the shells were just dropped where we sat so that the chickens could feast on the remnants. As we sat there a business proposition was put to me. How about I bought a cow? Then when they’d bred ten cows they’d give me five cows and keep the rest.

Owning five cows didn’t really appeal overly – not a great ambition of mine – but these people would really benefit from this. I mulled it over for a while. They are dirt poor. And so generous and hospitable towards me. This is my second visit and they’ve done so much for me. Eventually I decided what to do. I’m buying a cow in calf and her one year old daughter. When they have a few cows, they’ll sell enough to repay me the money I’ve lent, and in the meantime if the cows get ill, I’ll pay the medical expenses and they’ll owe me for that too. But if they die, they’ll owe me nothing – not the best business plan but it’ll help them.

Okay, loads more to upload but I’ll continue this soon.

listening to the rice sing

I read a saying about Laos the other day - Thai plant the rice, Vietnamese harvest the rice and Lao listen to it sing. It's wonderful. Tied in with the Laos expression that you shouldn't feed the baby till it cries, it sums up how wonderfully laid back life is here.

I think I'm going to buy some land. It's about a fifth of an acre and covered in teak trees. (around 40 - all about 10 years old). I'm then going to slowly build a place to stay in - so that I can come over at weekends and clear the land of the rubbish plants, plant some vegetables and fruit trees and generally have it as a weekend getaway from the rest of my life (which isn't exactly stressful - but hey!!!).

I had a cooking class last weekend - I can now cook all my favourite Lao dishes - or rather I could but it's a bit more difficult now that chicken and eggs have all disappeared from the shelves. A couple of people in this town have died from bird flu and (especially as they didn't have any connection with poultry farming - beyond walking past loads of them like we all did here) all birds have been slaughtered in Vientiane and it's now illegal to sell chicken or eggs, so I can cook the pork and fish dishes, but not the chicken one.

The rains of the last few days have gone now (apparently they always come when the mangos are ripe on the trees) and it's now stinking hot - general outfit complimented by a layer of sweat - how attractive! I find myself getting up in the night to shower, just to cool down. At least I don't get woken anymore by the cockerals - it's a complete lie that they just crow to welcome the dawn - everyone I've come across happily crows all night long - and a large percentage of the day too! And they like to compete with one another to see who can make the most noise - or at the most inconvenient time!

Opportunities seem to abound here - I'm being offered some really interesting projects that should prove fun and lucrative - but I'm waiting to clarify the details.

I've got a long weekend coming up soon so I'm thinking of going away for a few days - no definite decision yet, but I fancy checking out Wat Pho - a massive ruined temple in the South of the country.

The pictures have been chosen now for the calendar - apparently I'll need to submit them to the government for approval which sums up so much about this place! The photography is continuing to go well. Some photos of mine are appearing in the Vientiane Times this week and a friend has recommended me to a couple of people with a view to holding an exhibition and sale of paintings.

Really looking forward now to having some visitors - which should happen soon. Can't wait!

Weddings and photos

I was invited to two weddings last weekend. It's wedding season at the moment so they are happening all over the place. The first one was for a friend. You are sent the invitation and put some money in the envelope as a gift to the bride and groom. How much you give depends on how well you know the couple but also where the wedding is being held - if it's at a hotel you give more because it has cost more. The day before the wedding the bride was panicking because she hadn't been able to find a photographer, so someone had suggested me. So I became their photographer - so just a bit of pressure there then!!!!!

It gave me some wonderful photo opps but I was so worried that there would be some dust on the lens or something dire would happen that I couldn't relax. They came out alright though so I'll post them up soon.

The bride is at home, serene and waiting for her future husband, the grooms party maraudes it's way alcoholically and noisily towards the house, where they are greeted by girls holding silver and gold chains. They are supposed to pay their way through but at each of the weddings I've attended, they pay their way through the first couple then barge through the rest.

A baasi is then held where people wish one another good luck and yet more alcohol is consumed. Then the bride and groom head for the bedroom, together with the photographers!!!!!!! They have a heap of pictures on the bed, blessing the bed, kissing one another, standing on the bed - holding his sword! and then the family come in for the parents of the bride, parents of the groom, etc. pics! Most surreal. When I asked the bride how she was enjoying married life she blushed profusely and became really coy. Of course for them the major thing about married life to start with is the consumation of the marriage - so broadly I had inadvertantly asked her whether she was enjoying sex!!!!!

I had a call from my landlady earlier this week. She wanted to know whether I was home as someone wanted to view the house as she was selling it - and they were outside at that moment! I was a touch surprised to find out that the house was being sold. So I'm househunting again. I've been offered some land (for free!) on which I could build a very small house, but this doesn't appeal. We'll see how things pan out. I'm sure something will work out somehow.

Anyway, just heading for a wedding and then a festival. I'll post the latest pics soon.

Valentines day and how to upset senior monks

Valentine's day here is celebrated with an explosion of flowers. Everywhere you walked there were stalls selling red roses - about every 20 yards it seemed. I started the day with a text message from a married man with a picture of a rose and the message that he was missing me. I was a touch surprised, but turns out this is fine - probably just a friendship thing! Many phone calls, and texts followed during the day wishing me a happy valentine's day - including from novice monks! And then my students gave me loads of heart shaped sweets. Some came early to class to give me the sweets, others left after class, then came back to the classroom to hand me beautifully wrapped chocolates and sweeties. Most of the male teachers received roses from their students.

Then the following day I went to a novices inordination as a monk. He had been getting so excited about this and wanted lots of photos to give to his family. I turned up early and checked with him where I could walk, where I could stand, where I could sit and whether there were any other potential problems. Basically as long as I didn't go on the platform where the monks sit, there were no restrictions and he wanted as many photos as possible.

His alms bowl was wrapped up in white cloth that was twisted into a weird shape - it looked like a bad attempt at making a chicken shape. It transpired it was to represent the Nagar, which watches over us all. We walked three times around the temple, following the three novices who were being ordained. A gong was 'played' and the women whooped as they threw rice wrapped in 5,000 kip notes. Everyone scrambled to get the note as it landed in the procession.

Then into the temple. The ceremony lasted around an hour. It was swelteringly hot - the weather has changed dramatically over the last few days, and none of the fans were switched on so everyone sweated profusely. I took heaps of photos, but suddenly started getting really bad looks from the monks and hand signals to indicate I should go and sit down and stop taking photos immediately. I had no idea what the problem was and assumed I'd just taken too many for the Abbot's taste. So I put my camera down and sat down to watch the rest of the ceremony. It was amazing - lots of chanting, bowing to the Buddha, and general Buddhist stuff. (Whatever that may be). Afterwards I apologised for whatever I'd done wrong. It transpired that standing up during chanting so that your head is above a monks head is a major no no! Just a pity I didn't know that - still, I will next time!

One of the senior guys at the school I work for has tentitively suggested holding an exhibition of my photos - it might not happen but if it does - wow - I'm very excited. (http://www.flickr.com/photos/jolidbetter/)

I'm off to two weddings and a party this weekend - that should be good for photo opps - I'll update my flickr account soon.

The Laos classes are going well. I'm really loving the reading - I'm really slow, but getting faster. Hopeless at remembering the conversation part of it though - strange one - I would have thought that I would have been better at that bit than at reading. I get confused from time to time and keep accidently using the word for penis instead of buffalo or other such faux pas (and you'd be amazed how often the word buffalo comes up in conversation!

Anyway, better go now, more soon.

x

photo opps

I was reading a letter in the newspaper a few days ago. It was from some Lao students. They had written to the paper because they are too young to get driving licences. They had applied several times and always been told that they were too young. This, they felt was ridiculous and causing them loads of problems as they drove themselves to school every day and by refusing them a licence, the authorities were causing them no end of problems as they kept getting stopped by the police. They really felt that this was outrageous and something should be done about it as it was costing them too much money.

I loved that article.

It’s been too cold to go swimming in the morning lately, but the temperature seems to be rising now. I can’t believe how cold it’s been. It drops to around 9°c overnight, so people are wrapped up well, monks are wearing their football socks, and I have a queue of people wanting to use my hot shower, rather than throw bowls of cold water over themselves. Can’t say I blame them.

More fabulous photo opportunities seem to be coming my way – I’ve been asked to provide the photographs for a calendar for 2008 by a business, that intends to send it out to all the major businesses in the city – so my name and contact details should make there way around the city, and also I’ve been asked to take some photos for the school I work for to be used on their marketing and to update their website. I’ve got some wonderful experiences coming up which should give me some more pictures – Chinese New year, two weddings and a friend becoming a monk all happening next week. I’m off shortly to get some ‘Sinhs’ (Lao skirts) made for these occasions. Then the following week That Luang is having a festival – I’m trying to find out what the occasion is – but haven’t managed to ascertain exactly what the purpose of the festival is yet. Hopefully I’ll know before it’s happening.

The country’s main English language newspaper has been advertising for people to help with the editing. I’ve sent in my CV and I’m waiting to hear from them. I think it’d be a really interesting way to learn more about the culture here, and hopefully get some interesting photo opportunities, as well as getting to know some more interesting people here. I’m just waiting to hear back now.

I’ve been learning Laos. I’m a hopeless language student so it’s a slow process, but I’ve almost learnt to read – as in I can read a syllable at a time if I have a list of the vowels next to me (there are 26 consonants – one of which effectively makes a vowel sound, half a dozen compound consonants, and hundreds (literally – unfortunately) of vowels. If I can see the order I learnt them in, I can read, but I often can’t remember all the letters alone. To complicate matters slightly more, the vowels are written before, above, below and after the consonant that they follow (and sometimes all four), and there are also tones to contend with which are added afterwards. But hey – slowly getting there. Hopefully in just another couple of weeks I’ll feel I’ve cracked it – more to follow! The conversation is coming along too. A few things have just clicked into place recently and I am understanding more and more of what is going on around me. A hugely long way to go still, but I’m slowly sussing it.

I was taken to visit the art school last week. It’s a wonderful place that does pottery, sculpture, painting, carving, etc. and I might enroll once my Laos is up to it. I bought a couple of pots and some nightlight holders, but plan to go back when there are more students around as there were a couple of pottery items I’d love to buy. It feels great to get the house feeling more and more like my own place by filling it with my taste, rather than the hand painted fans and wall hangings that filled the rooms originally.

I’m teaching in the evenings, Monday to Friday and I also teach a seven year old Korean girl. She’s from a well off family and is so happy when the lesson is two hours, not just one, or when there will be classes every day. The classes fit around her piano classes and she is non stop. I left the folder of exercises at her house overnight by accident and the following day she’d sorted all the papers and had completed about 10 exercises. Her English is superb but.......

I’m going to Vang Vieng again next week. Just for a day. Seng is becoming a monk. He has been a novice for around 6 years and is really excited about becoming a monk. The ceremony takes place next Thursday in Vang Vieng, near his home and he has asked me along. After being a novice and before becoming a monk the temples encourage them to spend a few days or weeks as a layman so that they can get some of the experiences that have been denied to them for such a long time (generally they become novices at around 12 and become monks at around 20 or 21) and both get some stuff out of their systems, and be sure that they want to continue with these constraints on their lives before they become monks. Generally they get drunk, eat in the evening, play sport, play cards, and spend a few days having a bit of fun and being treated normally. Seng was looking forward most to playing some sport with his friends and I’d promised to take him out to a Korean restaurant one evening, as he’d love it but as it’s a very communal way of eating and only available in the evening, he can’t do it as a novice or a monk. His father’s refused him permission to be a layman though. I am still astounded at how much people will do what their relatives tell them, even to their own detriment, when it’s really nothing to do with them. It just seems such a shame that he can’t have a week of normality. The ceremony should be interesting though. He’s being honoured at the start of a festival in Vang Vieng and is really excited.

I’ll put some pictures of the ceremony on flickr when I get a chance.

Oh so much to say - a mixture of parties, exams and reports to write and mark, trips away and then the earthquake in Taiwan screwing up internet access have all conspired to keep me offline for ages - but hey - been having a wonderful time.

Now where had I got to?

I'd got a house and a job. Well and truly settled into those now. I had my favourite pictures mounted and those are around the house. They look fab, but also it's meant that various people have seen them resulting in me potentially being offered some photography work here. Which is just fabulous. I'm so excited.

Christmas and New Year combined into an exhausting mixture of parties and the end of term (on 29th December to ensure minimum rest over Christmas). I had a group of people over for Christmas morning - novice monks and a few others for a barbecue in the sunshine, then western friends for alcohol - far far too much alcohol - in the evening. Earlier in the week it had been one of the novices' birthdays so I threw a surprise birthday party for him. I had went to get a cake for the party, but he walked passed the cake shop while I was there. The cakeshop owners weren't quite sure what to make of the weird behaviour of the strange foreigner who dived down behind their counter for no apparent reason. Must learn to communicate better. So have now Lao classes. I'm such a terrible language student so it's a real uphill struggle - even though I am living here. I've got around three or four weeks coming up though with people staying at my house who don't speak any English, which will hopefully accelarate the learning curve.

For New Year I ended up back in Vang Vieng, swimming in caves on New Year's day, climbing and caving, cycling and generally reminding myself how terribly unfit I am! It was a wonderful trip - the family held a baasii for me, which was great, and I skipped out before the heavy drinking got properly underway and went with friends to one of the caves, just spectacular.

We rented bikes for the whole trip. They came without lights and when we left we had to cycle in the dark. One of my friends was really scared of dogs and when she saw one in front of her she swerved to avoid it, cycling over the edge of the road and into the river around six feet below, hitting her head.

When we got her out her face was covered in blood and swelling rapidly. We woke some people who found her a chair and someone went off to find a tractor to take us to hospital (that's a sentence you never expect to write!). She wasn't overly keen on hospitals so they did their best and then we headed back to Vientiane to take her to a bigger hospital there. The blood continually dripping through her eye patch was somewhat unnerving, but the end result seemed to be that at worse she will have an almost invisible scar and a few less eyelashes.

Hopefully I'll start the photography thing soon - it's a new business that's been awarded grants and funding from various sources. They are growing a crop - to fit in with rotational farming methods, and will use this to make a light, strong material for clothing for travellers, etc. They need some photography for there website and brochures so they've asked me. Hope it all comes together.

So New Year's resolution - don't wait nearly a month before updating blog!

Be back here soon

Settling in

Started work last week - just four and a half hours a week which was blissful, but wouldn't pay the bills, by the start of this week it had increased to 9 and a half hours and it's looking good for going up to fourteen hours next week, which will easily pay the bills and leave money over for plenty of treats. Hooray.

Just as well really, I want to make the house feel like home and buy some 'stuff'! Hooray.

And I am treating myself to luxuries like Weetabix and Campbells soup (oh and maybe Baileys, Gin and tonic and Cointreau too!) which you don't get for Laos prices. It's so good to have the equipment to cook 'falang' (Westerner) food sometimes.

The novices walked around the house, initially fascinated by the things they'd never seen before - a cooker, hot shower, western style loo, a washing machine, and then came through bemused with an egg whisk wondering what on earth it could be used for.

After living on the side of a mountain for several years, it's so lovely to live within walking distance of so many people who just drop in on me. I'm in my element. People work on a different timescale here though - especially the monks. They turn up at 7.30 in the morning, so does the cleaner (obviously I need a cleaner when I work such tremendously long hours!), so I get up early. Everyone here does. I went out for a meal with a friend last week and lost track of time. It was nearly 10pm by the time I left so the roads were almost empty and I couldn't get a rickshaw home. Serves me right for being such a dirty stopout! So the next purchase has to be a bicycle. Can't get one of the local ones - I think I'd flatten it! So I've been told where I can get imported ones from Thailand that are well made. Vientiane is flat and it's small, so that should do me for most things. Just may turn up looking a touch on the warm side sometimes.

Popped over to Thailand again last week. I had to get the right type of visa in my passport to be able to work, so now I'm legal and all is above board - except that my passport had to be sent off - for anywhere between a week to a month, so I can't go anywhere exciting now till I have it back. (You need it to pass between provinces, to stay in hotels, and generally to move around so I'm restricted to Vientiane for now). Still tough life - have to have dinner watching the sun set over Thailand at the Mekong river, visit the Wats, and go to some of the parties that are getting planned for Christmas - I'll cope.

All's fab. More next week, and thanks for the comments.

Dust

We headed off together for one of the novices' homes. He hadn't been back since he was twelve (he's now 19) and hadn't seen his mother for five years. The journey was long but spectacular, zigzagging through mountain ranges for hour after hour.

After the bus journey we changed to a songthaew (like a grown up rickshaw) and proceeded to ingest pounds of the dust that covered everything, turning the leaves, grass, and anything else around, brown. The fashionable look of choice is to be swathed in material to protect your eyes and lungs. I thought I had done well, but my cough suggests otherwise.

His mother was delightful and so welcoming.

We went off for a swim. Having established that anything less than full length trousers and a blouse would be inappropriate, I decided to wear pyjamas so that my clothes didn't end up wet. I was assured that I didn't need to change in advance as there was somewhere there for me to change. This turned out to be the river bank, overlooked by a road bridge and a sizeable crowd had soon gathered to watch - I'm fairly sure I came a little too close to comfort on some drivers no longer watching the road too.

The water was fabulously refreshing and I failed dismally in the race with the monks to the other side. In my defense, pyjama bottoms are not really designed for swimming and I don't think that anyone would have appreciated them coming off.

A Baasii ceremony was held for me. I had thought that this was being held for the monks, but their ceremony was a small one. The main one was for me. We (most of the village) gathered around a tray on which had been placed a golden (coloured) bowl with flowers, money, bananas, a cut up cooked chicken, sugar cane and numerous pieces of white cotton. A ceremonial leader chanted blessings to me, whilst everyone either held the bowl or one another. Then I was given a shot glass to down in one. Apparently this normally has rice whiskey in it, but the monks had intervened on my behalf so water it was (at 8.30 in the morning, and with a dreadful cough from the dust, the interjection was most welcome). Then I had to sit with my hands upright and into them was placed some sugar cane, a banana, some money, some sticky rice, a chicken head, claw and some unidentifyable bit of the chicken. Someone took some of the sticky rice and mystery chicken bit and put them into my mouth. I have no idea what it was, but it was slimy. I moved it to the side of my mouth, desparately waiting for the opportunity to get rid of it without swallowing it - I was fairly sure I wouldn't keep it down! Everyone there then tied a piece of cotton round each of my wrists so that half my arms were swathed in cotton, whilst giving me their blessings and best wishes. Eventually they moved on to offer the blessings to others in the party and I was free to excuse myself and sort out the chicken in the cheek problem.

After leaving the family home, we headed over to the Plain of Jars. Have made a personal note to always double check facts from now on and believe nothing I'm told. This was not on the way home, and was a substantial distance in the opposite direction. Incredible place though.

No one is sure why all these jars dot the plains, the best guess appears to be that they were used as a place to keep skeletons while they decomposed, before the ashes were scattered. We went on to a hot spring, a cave where people had sheltered during Americas war on Laos (and many hundreds were killed after missiles were fired in to them - apparently a combination of civilians and soldiers sheltered together in the caves), and a waterfall. Unfortunately by this point my dust covered lungs were complaining loudly, so I sat in the car and coughed, missing the waterfalls but the monks enjoyed them. Then on to the crater sight.

Two of our party were some distance away before our guide mentioned that this area had not been cleared of unexploded ordinance, and proceeded to show us a couple of bombies - baseball sized bombs lying on the surface. I retraced my four or five steps gently - I know that many people had trodden there before but most of them will have been considerably lighter than me. I was taking no chances. I just wanted to get away from there.

The journey back was uneventful, except for clipping a motorbike, sending the bike and rider sliding into the verge. The bike was now unrideable, so it was carried on to the bus. To exit one had to climb along the armrests, clambering over the motorbike (and fish, chickens, bicycles, and various other bits and pieces cluttering the aisles).

On returning I was offered a job - initially just a few hours a week, but hopefully this will increase substantially next term - and I found somewhere fabulous to rent - just near the school, with a roof terrace, three bedrooms - sort of - and a proper kitchen with a fridge, cooker, freezer and everything! So I'm going home now to cook a 'farang' meal. I bought a filet mignon cut of beef today (a kilo for around 1 pound sterling) and had half of it minced. Also the fridge is full of beans, mange tout, aubergine, squash, potatoes, cucumbers and onions so should be able to throw together something vaguely edible out of that. And then I also have loads of wonderful fruit. The landlady came round in panic after leaving me for around 4 hours as she'd realised that I didn't have rice - she brought about 10 kilos which should last me for a while.

All is wonderful. Going to be in Vientiane now for a while, and hoping that I'll get some visitors soon.

Gentle week

It's been a gentle week of playing boules, which, together with good bread and wine seem to be some of the best hangovers from the French colonial period here; teaching the novices to play chess - they asked me to play chess with them, then proceeded to play a form of drafts, so after much searching I managed to find a poor quality chess set, not great - the queen looks like a bishop - but at least it's serviceable - I'm just hoping that I've not misled them on castling - think that you move the king to the castle, but I may be wrong; and going for job interviews.

My CV is now with a fair number of schools and most of them reckon that they will have work for me soon. Just got to wait and see now.

Tonight I'm off with the novices again. One of them hasn't been home or seen his mother since he was about 12 and as he's now 18 or 19 he is beside himself with excitement - as is his mother. I don't think we will come across any other Westerners there as the guide books say that it's an arduous journey with nothing to show for it at the end, but that should mean I get to see 'real Laos'! Whatever that means. His mother is holding a Baci ceremony for him before we leave - I think that this involves white string - but somehow suspect that there is somewhat more to it than that! Hopefully it'll create some interesting photo opps.

The weather is getting hotter, and the weight is dropping off - safety pins are proving vital to keep my trousers up now!

I've started to really notice how much cheaper everything has become since my rudimentary language skills have progressed beyond just saying hello - I am already much more likely to get the local price instead of the 'farang' price.

Yesterday I visited a school where I shall probably volunteer once I have sorted out the rest of my life. It's linked to the place that I volunteered in on the Thai Burmese border, where around 10 students where being taught. Apparently that place is now a children's home and teaches around 400 students - this made my day - there were so many kids in need of help there. Brought back many memories too.

It looks like someone has found somewhere for me to live which is really near the temple and away from most of the tourists, which suits - hopefully this will be confirmed when I get back from the Northern provinces.

Better go, more next week

Jo

Swimming with monks

An amazing week.

I woke up early on Saturday to take some pics of the monks collecting alms and came across a group of teenagers offering alms to some elderly monks. They filled their alms bowls with packets of crisps. Completely filled them so that nothing else would fit in them. Then took a blessing from the monks. They were delighted that I’d been taking their photograph and asked me in to their house. Once in I declined the offers of beer – 6am is a little early for me – but they carried on drinking, as they had been since the night before.

The That Luang festival was superb. On Sunday morning all the monks gathered around the temple, their alms bowls in front of them and thousands of people gathered to give food, money and flowers. Prayers were offered first – a gentle recitation through the loud speakers, then people queued to offer alms. The monks ended up with bin bags full of sweets and money. I was invited to the back of the temple for breakfast of chicken, eggs and sticky rice. I had been unwilling to eat the eggs I’d seen around the festival ground as they were embryonic – as in just ready to hatch when they were boiled, so basically you eat bones and feathers – nice! I ate with monks and some of the many police who had been drafted in from all around the country to help keep the festival safe. They were all sleeping in and around the temple so it was easy to find yourself wandering around a part of the temple where police were playing cards, their weapons casually propped against walls.

Surreal.

Later in the day people gathered for a candlelight procession. A continual river of people flowed around the stupa – some stopping to leave their offerings of flowers and candles. Some leaving through one of the side entrances to the festival. The monks took the best of the flowers to the temple to offer up to the Buddha images.

One of the novice monks – a lad of nineteen – had invited me to visit his family in Vang Viene. We had to leave early on Tuesday morning to get there early. We visited his grandmother, and ate a delicious meal of fish and papaya salad with sticky rice. They were particularly enamoured by the dressing in the middle of the fish. It took me a certain amount of questioning to establish exactly what this was. When I wasn’t totally clear that I had understood the expression he used of fish waste, he clarified by confirming that it was the fish bowel. Nice. I declined the generous offer of fish poo, sticking simply to the more traditional fleshy bit personally and found myself very quickly not wanting any more to eat. After dinner, we hired bicycles and went out and about. The scenery around the area is spectacular – mountains, caves and deep cool pools dotted around. We cycled to a durian plantation and one of the novices went for a swim, as the rest of us watched from a shady shelter beside the water. We then cycled on to a cave where we left our bikes and walked up the couple of hundred steps into the entrance. The novices – who are half my age and weight – took video on their phones of them running up the steps – then panned round to me exhausted as I struggled up the steps in the heat of the midday sun after the 25km cycle ride through mountains!

The cave was fabulous – it was stunning but had had a concrete floor and lighting put in. After leaving it we went for a swim in one of the caves. The water had a translucent quality from within the cave. As I was with the monks, I swam fully dressed but as I first got in the strength of the current surprised me and I was pulled towards one of them. It is important for them not to touch women so me landing fully against one of them wouldn’t have been good. He dived out of the way just in time.

By the time we cycled back to the town I was exhausted. I asked the novices not to cycle too close to me when we were going uphill as some of my involuntary language wasn’t going to be ideal for them to learn. We collected our bags from grannies place and then set off again. I assumed that we were heading for a tuk tuk but after a while of walking decided I’d better check. The plan was to walk the eight or so kilometres to his family home now. I assumed that they were teasing. I was wrong. Luckily we came across a form of transport – a paired down tractor attached to a cart into which we clambered.

His family weren’t expecting us and I’m sure that they were delighted to see us. I was, however completely exhausted and so, despite how terribly rude it seemed, I fell virtually immediately into a deep sleep. I woke several hours later to see the novice monk’s brother buying something in a black meshlike material. As he pulled the pieces apart four small yellow birds became apparent. They looked like canaries. He started pulling the feathers away. I drifted back to sleep wondering what he used the feathers for. Eventually I woke again and was invited to have some food. I ate the sticky rice balls that are the staple here with a selection of dishes. Later I realised one of these had been canary. I must start asking more what I’m eating – or asking less – or maybe just only asking before I eat or not at all!

They retired to the temple, leaving me too tired to try to converse in Laos so I slept early and awoke at around five am. I went out to the loo and as I crouched, cursing the muscles in my thighs that were suffering from the previous day’s exercise, a dog stuck its head through the gap in the door and watched me, fascinated.

I went back under the mosquito net till after dawn – it’s at dawn and dusk that the mosquitoes that most need avoiding, and read. Eventually I got up and, as everyone else was still asleep, I went for a walk. I met someone who was taking feed out to his ducks so I joined him. We arrived at the temple where the novices were having breakfast and I briefly said hello before trying to continue with the man, only to realise that the bridge he was crossing – or rather the three flimsy looking pieces of bamboo tied vaguely together to serve as a bridge would probably not hold me, even if I could manage to balance my way across. Which was highly unlikely. I went back to the temple just as the monks finished eating. The meal was then given to the people in the temple – someone I didn’t know, together with his father and grandmother. We ate breakfast together in the temple.

After a walk around the village, we decided to go to another cave walking distance from the house. I was asked for some money to buy a picnic (it didn’t exactly break the bank – they wanted $3). They bought a duck. I prefer not to get acquainted with my dinner before it has died but it was carried alive over to the house. And then we set off. Our group consisted of an abbot, three novice monks, the father and the nephew, together with myself. As we walked I asked what was in the bag the father was carrying. It was the live duck. One of the novices was carrying the knife. I guess at least dinner was going to be fresh. Didn’t exactly conjure up images of gingham table clothes though.

While dinner was slaughtered and prepared, we went up to the cave. The route up was incredible – jagged rocks to be clambered up. We met a few people coming down for whom it was just not their thing – you couldn’t really be afraid of heights, and had to be dressed for it. I wished my blouse wasn’t silk as I slid on my bottom to get over rocks.

Once we reached the cave entrance we were greeted by an incredible journey round the cave. I was glad I was with someone who knew the cave well. There were no lights and you clambered over and through stalagmites and stalactites.

Back down later we ate the duck, and I declined the papaya salad after watching the monks nephew reduced to floods of tears after eating some. The fiery chillies burning him.

We went on to the pool - a beautiful natural pond where butterflies danced, dragonflies flitted and the sun warmed the water fantastically. People swung from ropes and dived off tree branches into the cooling water. A couple of the monks swung in from the ropes but after a while some westerners arrived. Many of the women stripped down to their underwear which was hard for the monks so we went further away to a clearing and I lay in the water while the monks swum around.

Then back to the house for another evening with the family. Luckily I wasn’t so completely exhausted this time and so spent the evening asking them to teach me various Laos vocabulary and then slept deeply until 4am when I had to get up for our return to Vientiane.

The send off from home was emotional. Far too much alcohol drunk, far too many people who were wrenching to say goodbye to. I had a wonderful last evening with my family – a combination of laughter, alcohol and confessions.

The airport was just a continual queue – a long queue that I’d assumed was for check in but was actually the queue to allow you to join the check in queue. Then the queue for security which went the length of the building and down the stairs. People were only allowed one bag each which was throwing women who had assumed that they would be able to take a piece of hand luggage as well as their handbags – those that had it wrong had to go back down to check in and rejoin all the queues. The flights were long but uneventful – uneventful being how I most like my flights!

Bangkok airport is new – and impressive – though I could probably cope with slightly fewer long live the King signs. Then on to Vientiane.

What an amazing place.

I’ve had just a couple of days here so far but already met so many incredible people.

The fabulous woman who had arranged my hotel came over to fetch me. We headed over to a place for street kids. It gives them an education, food, safety and takes away the need to beg. Mostly the kids were young as the older ones were mainly at school. They were all clean and smart and very cuddly. As we talked to one of the people working there children ran around us. We walked out passing the children as they were having lessons and I found my fingers being grasped tightly by many little fingers who didn’t want to let go.

They are opening a restaurant in around three weeks which has been set up to give the older kids a trade. They have been taught to cook, wait, and generally run the restaurant, but are being given friends to practice on until the opening day. It was a wonderful place – the food was fabulous and the staff incredibly attentive. They are keeping it all MSG free too. The hot pineapple with coconut ice cream and chilli sweet, quite stunning.

When I took my CV into an English school that had been recommended, I realised that they share a building with Oxfam, so I popped in to see what I could do to help. We’ve swapped email addresses and I’ll see what happens. The school seemed a good one, but they are on holiday now till Monday for the That Luang festival. They were hopeful that they would be able to get me some work.

Vientiane is very different from what I had expected. The streets are wider and the main ones well maintained. There are many more cars than I expected and far fewer bicycles – most people seem to get around by motorbike. And, although I should have realised from the history as a French colony, I hadn’t expected people to drive on the ‘wrong side’! My rudimentary Thai is proving invaluable – rusty and minimalistic as it is. Few of the people I’ve met speak anything more than a couple of words of English.

The main exception to this has been the monks I met at the festival. There is a festival here for the next week. It is based around the temple at That Luang. Everything is beautifully lit and stalls and fairground rides abound. Music screams out from every stall as people throw darts at balloons and win drinks as prizes, kids throw themselves down inflated bouncy castles cum slides and stalls sell amazing varieties of food and trinkets. My usual response at the clothes stalls failed me – I can normally instantly deflect their entreaties to buy by pointing out that their clothes won’t fit me, but when I tried this, the guy brought out a pile of around twenty tee shirts, all big enough for me. So I’ll actually be able to buy clothes here if I want.

Unsurprisingly there were many monks at the festival. They come from all around Laos for the festival. I started talking to some of them as they played around in front of my camera. They are keen to improve their English and a large group joined me. They were young – late teens in the main, and weren’t taking their roles as seriously as most monks I’ve met in the past. One of them started smoking, but then admitted that if the Abbott saw him he’d be in serious trouble. He didn’t hide his smoking at all though. Another ate an ice cream. I was stunned by this as they are not supposed to eat after midday. Apparently ice cream is fine though as it’s almost just water! Quite. I’m going with this in future – I like the reasoning! If a woman passes anything to a monk, it normally has to be given to a man to hand to him as he mustn’t come too close to a woman. They were fairly lax though, taking my camera straight from me and handing things straight to me. They brought me water and we talked for hours. They offered that I could stay at the temple if I wanted and we’ve agreed that I will come over often to see them. They get to practice their English with me and they will help me to learn Laos. When I went back, the following day we talked about where they go to collect alms in the morning. They told me what they most like to get in their alms bowls. They were very exact about it. They like rice and coconut cooked in bamboo. I’m fairly sure that they aren’t supposed to hint like this.

The food so far has been incredible. Pork noodle soup turned into something else. A huge bowl of broth with noodles, pork meat and scratchings, tomato and coriander was served with bowls of beansprouts, basil, mint green beans and lettuce, together with fish sauces, chillies, sugar, vinegar dressings and msg – gave that one a miss. Absolutely wonderful. Chinese dumplings filled with an explosion of flavours. Apple pieces dunked in strings of sugar syrup and smothered with sesame seeds. Served with a bowl of ice water to drop the nuggets into, cooling them and setting the toffee.

It feels like a great way to have been introduced to a country.

Landmines and goodbyes

Seven hundred kilos of explosives per person were dropped on Laos during the sixties and seventies. Seven hundred bags of sugar worth of explosive material for every man, woman and child. Put another way, a full plane load of explosives was dropped on Laos every eight minutes, round the clock for nine years. Partly it seems these were dropped to stop the spread of communism, partly to unload planes to make them safer to land. And the incidents of accidents are apparently increasing.

Mind blowing.

Apparently most of the mines are around the size of baseballs. Kids play with them, adults have to move them in order to free the land for farming. They explode, people are killed, limbs are lost.

I’ve been in touch with a landmine charity – No More Landmines Trust. They have active projects in Vietnam and Cambodia, and have given me some contact details for a further charity in Laos that might help me arrange some trips to projects out there. So now just waiting to hear back from them.

Hopefully I’ll be able to take some interesting photographs that I can give to the charities to use.

When I first arrive in Laos there is a long festival near the hotel. I’ve spent half the house proceeds on extra camera equipment (or at least more money than I’d intended) but I now have a wide angle and macro lens, decent flash and some more memory, so hopefully I’ll get some good photos there.

In the meantime, I’m in the midst of something I regret – the saying goodbye thing.

It’s emotionally blasting to go to one friend after another, drink too much alcohol, then have to say goodbye to them till some unspecified time in the future. Said goodbye to Than Tun yesterday – that wasn’t easy. And still another week of goodbyes to go (intermingled unfortunately with doing Tax Return for light relief!).

It’ll be good to be on the plane.

It's all happening

Well, the house is sold, the possessions given away or trashed, the debts paid off and the flight booked.

I'm heading straight for Laos at the end of the month, then see what way the wind blows!

There's a ridiculous flight plan to get there - flying from London to Delhi, Delhi to Mumbai, Mumbai back to Delhi, then on to Bangkok and Vientiane. The travel agent has no idea why I have to do the superfluous trip to Mumbai, but we decided that I was better doing as shown on the ticket than risking getting left behind in Delhi by Indian efficiency. And Delhi airport is memorable but not for any good reasons. So two unnecessary flights, global warming be damned!

I've sussed which hotel to stay at to start off. I'm going to book in for a month and see what happens from then. There is a festival in Vientiane just after I arrive - perfect!

Just on a round Britain tour now. Seeing favourite lovely people before the trip. Heading today to Manchester from Sheffield, then on down to Gloucester, Bristol, Oxford, London then Brighton.

Then flying hooray.

Selling up

Excellent – things are progressing well – love the internet. Someone in Laos is sending me some contact info for some schools, and I’ve planned how to get there.

I feel amazingly relieved. I haven’t been sure for some time about what I wanted to do beyond selling the house and going. But I was in a sweet shop of countries. I’ve been dotting between all the options unable to decide what I wanted. South America and Africa would both give many colourful photo opportunities. That’s tempting. But I felt as though a light shone down on Laos a couple of days ago. Since then it’s been so clear. That’s where I want to go. And my focus is now totally on getting there as soon as possible.

I’m thinking of flying via India – go and visit some friends out there, then on to Bangkok for a trip through my memories. Bangkok is a real marmite city – love it or hate it. After living there for two years, I have to say I love it. But I haven’t been there for twelve years. It’s going to be very different. And I never quite made it to Chiang Mai when I lived in Thailand, actually I never vaguely made it to Chiang Mai, so I thought I’d head up there then cross into Laos, and on to Vientiane – or wherever I end up working. According to everything I’ve read today it’s a chilled place with laid back and friendly people – just stick to the paths – knew that one already –I think it’s had the most bombs per square metre of any country – actually just made that up from half remembered facts from many many years ago – but it’s something to do with bombs being dumped or missing their target or some such event that involved not being at war yet somehow getting thousands of mines and bombs throughout the country. So excited. Just hope the house sale goes through quickly now. I got another interesting fact on Laos today too. Apparently it’s the third largest supplier of opium in the world. Stay away from the poppies. My ex husband is from the Golden Triangle in Burma and as a kid used to slit the stems then go off and play. A little while later he’d return with his friends and they’d suck on the stems. He decided to stop doing this when he turned ten!

There’s a strangely cleansing feeling about selling all your possessions. Or rather almost all of them. I’m keeping a few books and arty ornamenty things but the rest is going. Everything else is just dragging me down. Tethering me to the UK and keeping me from doing all that I want. But it can be so hard to see treasured possessions with their new owners. Most things have a history and a memory attached. I scuppered myself a bit on this – I’d arranged for someone to look after some of my bits and pieces but my plans enthused her, so now she’s going off travelling too and can’t look after my stuff after all. Much better that she is off for an adventure than acting as a storage facility for me. But……….

I hope that I will never want any of this stuff again. Actually I hope that I’ll never be back again. In the meantime I’m busy selling and giving away everything I own. Anyone want a sandwich toaster?

Decisions

Okay, I’ve finally decided. Well maybe not finally, but enough for now. As soon as the house is sold – and that’s looking good so hopefully only a few weeks to go now – I’m going to get a cheap flight to Morocco – Easyjet do them for just a few pounds and mooch around there for a while.

I’ve been checking the TEFL websites – looks like it won’t be a problem finding English teaching out there – whilst I might be solvent after the house sale, I don’t want to blow it – so many opportunities out there – so really want to work my way round the places I go. Then, when I’ve been out and about a bit in Morocco – really keen to play with the camera there – I’m going to head off further afield.

I’ve always had a regret over a missed opportunity. I was offered a teaching job by the forestry commission in Laos and I couldn’t take it. Like all my past regrets and bad decisions it involved a man in my life who couldn’t have gone too. (Note to self: stop living your life for anyone else, ever). I didn’t think that there was any way that an opportunity like that could ever come up again – but it now looks like it won’t be a problem to get work there. Laos and Vietnam (and Cambodia, come to that) all really appeal. I realised this yesterday as I was poring over the atlas trying to decide where to head off to.

I had been planning on joining some others on a journey down through West Africa by Landrover, through to Dakar, then on to Mali and to the Festival of the Desert there in January. This is very much in the planning stage – and will probably go ahead, but a few things have been bothering me about it. Mainly, I have to admit that my control freakery means that I don’t like not being the one making the decisions. I have always travelled alone and this has worked for me for a number of reasons. Firstly I think it’s safer. You can always extract yourself from situations easier if there is no one else to consider. You can tell whatever lies help you out of danger without the concern that there might be someone else who has given away something different. And people really want to protect you if you are a woman alone because they perceive you as being at risk. Secondly I realise more and more how much happier I am alone (and I think most people are, if they are honest – looking at couples travelling together, it amazes me how rarely they both seem happy – especially when they are not in self absorbed mode). When I’ve been on holiday with close friends or even stayed with them, or them me for more than a few days, I need a long, long break from them afterwards. That’s not normal, I realise, but it’s how I am, so if no other advantages come from age (and many many advantages do come with age) then at least I can recognise this. And behave accordingly. How awful might it be to spend six or seven weeks with people if you ended up not liking them or, maybe worse, if they don’t like you. I love spending time with people, between big chunks of aloneness. Funny that – it must be me being unusual, but the only times I’ve ever been lonely or bored have been times with people I care about.

There were also the risks being taken on this trip. I am not risk averse – oh God I sound like a financial advisor now – but I like the risks to be my risks, not someone else’s. I’m not convinced that travelling by car through Algeria – or through Western Sahara, Mauritania and Mali are safe – even if there are two cars travelling together. Maybe if this festival had been a dream of mine, it would be worthwhile, but, whilst it appeals, I don’t think that it appeals that much!

There’s another factor. I looked at going to South America too – thought of taking a Spanish course out there, then travelling for a while through Peru and Chile, maybe over to Venezuela. No matter how interesting and exciting West Africa or South America sound, I keep feeling really drawn back to South East Asia. I lived in Thailand for a few years in the early nineties and loved it. I have no real interest in going back there, but the idea of travelling round, or more relevantly, living in some of the other countries in the region really appeals. So maybe I fly to Thailand, catch a train over to Laos, then, when I’ve been there a while, carry on to Vietnam, and then on up to China (oh and maybe throw in Cambodia sometime along the way too – could just head down there for a holiday I guess). That should keep me occupied for a few years. I must look up what the borders are like round there. Can I skip from one country to the next?

Part of me wonders why I would go to Morocco first, and if I didn’t want to take photos there, I probably wouldn’t bother, but it’s an itch I want to scratch before the main adventure.

I wonder if I’ll ever come back.

I had intended to go over to North Africa, have a while there, then come back to the UK for the festivals next summer before heading off in August next year for more adventurous climes, but……

Now I’ve got a bit more of a firm plan in my mind, I don’t think I want to head off that late. Part of me wonders about going to Morocco at all. It’s almost like a holiday before going travelling. And if I’m going to do that, wouldn’t I be better doing it in Laos, or Thailand – I know – I never got up to north Thailand – maybe I could finally visit Chaing Mai.

Oh no, confused again.

Anyway, I’ve got to tidy up. It’s no good time wasting like this. I must tidy up. And in what world did I think spending the last 45 minutes perfecting to sing along to the Ladies of the Court of King Caractacus was a good way to spend time. I may now be able to almost keep up with Rolf Harris talking about the fascinating witches who put the scintillating stitches in the britches of the boys who put the powder on the noses of the faces of the ladies of the harem of the court of King Caractacus but the people who are buying my house are coming round soon – and the house has degenerated into it’s usual messy state since the weekend.

I seem to have an amazing ability to whirlwind around rooms creating the most incredible mess out of nothing. When I arrive at hotels I seem to make the room embarrassingly disordered before I’ve done much more than arrived and taken off my shoes. And no, putting my shoes back on doesn’t help. So with a whole house to play with the opportunities for destruction seem almost immeasurable. And it takes such a long time to sort out the mess. So really should go now.

But just before I do, I’ve been sorting all my cds on to my laptop in preparation for boxing them up before travelling. And then instead of just dumping them on there are so many more excellent procrastination techniques. Not only do the songs need labelling, but also grading between one and five (and the ones that have slipped on from compilation cds like Kylie singing how she should be so lucky, obviously need dumping!) but then there are further opportunities to say the type of music, the album, oh and I’ve just discovered that I can add two freeform categories – do I want to know female or male vocalist, decade the song came out, whether it’s Irish chilled music against Irish lively music, if it’s African reggae, Caribbean reggae or UK reggae, or if the cd has a pretty cover. So many options.

And actually I haven’t made full use of the labelling already set up for me - whilst I understand acoustic, hip hop, techno, and even at a push acid jazz, what is trip top, primus or porn groove. Especially porn groove. I can’t get a tune in my head that could fit that description – maybe it should be a mission to find out.

After I’ve tidied up.