Sabaidee Luang Prabang: Out Alone in the City

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it sure makes the rest of you lonely."

Charles M. Schulz

After our success with street food in Vang Vieng, we had grown bold. We relaxed our guards and started eating at any roadside stall that draws a crowd. To be honest, I am never particularly careful with what I eat because I reckon that after spending almost 3 years in India, my gastrointestinal tract must have cultivated a fortitude that can rival the digestive capacity of some species of pigs. My lady, on the other hand, have spent most of her adult life in Singapore, a city state that in which garbage is considered an endangered species.

Here's where we had dinner on our first full day in the city of Luang Prabang.

Smörgåsbord.

Cheryl spotted this roadside all-you-can-carry-away-in-one-plate buffet at the mouth of an alleyway leading away from the Handicraft Night Market. At just 10,000 kip (1.25 USD or a little above 4 ringgit) per pop, it was real easy on my wallet.

Cheryl sealing her doom.

Little did she know, she would came to regret this meal as it would make a reappearance later that night through the same orifice it went in. Cheryl, it seemed, had fallen for that commonest of calamities befalling travellers - food poisoning. The illness would go on to incapacitate her for the entirety of the following day, putting a crimp in our plans. Me? My burps tasted a little funny that morning but otherwise, all gears and cylinders were operating in pretty much the same way they always have.

As soon as day broke, I left our guesthouse to hunt for another place as our room was already booked other guests. Thinking that the room rates would be cheaper if I look outside of the central area, I headed out to Manomai Road where we passed many guesthouses on our arrival night. I saw that some street vendors there were hawking a fare familiar to me, so I had some.

Rice noodle sheet cooking on a hot plate.

Breakfast!

The vendor I bought my breakfast from couldn't not speak or understand English and my mastery of the Lao language begins at "sabaidee" and ends at "khawp jai", I did not find out what the Lao call it - but where I'm from, it's known as chee cheong fun. It's a kind of steamed rice noodle roll that's stuffed with minced meat or shrimp and is usually eaten with soy sauce. The one I had here was served with some sweet, fragrant oil with an overkill of fried onion garnish. It tasted amazing.

No matter where you are from, the desire to put silly clothes on your pets is universal.

I finally found a place called P. P. Guesthouse that was situated right across the road from Wat Manorom which have an almost exclusively Lao clientèle. They also charge about 3 times cheaper than where we've been putting up our legs at in the previous two nights, in spite providing the same amenities (if not the same aesthetics). I immediately paid up for two nights and headed back to my ailing spouse at the Tha Heua Me Guesthouse to see if she was still alive (she was). With a bit of encouragement, I got her out of that her bed into a new bed across town, where she curled up to rest some more.

Not wanting to waste the day, I started exploring the area surrounding our new accommodation. As Wat Manorom was just opposite, I went to see to pay that a visit. While it is a well known local monument, it being situated far outside the the central tourist Disneyland meant that I did not have to pay an admission fee to enter.

The front of Wat Manorom.

I can talk about it being being founded in the 14th century or about how it houses the oldest large Buddha statue in the city, but the most interesting I saw there was this monk leaning on a motorbike, smoking a cigarette.

So much for relinquishing earthly desires.

Speaking of less than materialistic Buddhist monks, here's one playing with his phone while chilling out in the courtyard of Wat That Luang, a temple near Wat Manorom.

According to some Buddhist sects, playing Centipede is mindless enough to be considered meditation.

Situated behind our new guesthouse is the UXO Lao Information Centre.  

Sure screams welcome to me.

UXO stands for Unexploded Ordnance, and UXO Lao is the national bomb clearance operator that works to clean bomb contaminated lands to free them for agriculture, development and community purposes (schools, hospitals, temples, water supply, and so on). They also conduct educational risk-reduction programmes for the affected communities.

A stark information board right outside the Visitors Centre reveals some sobering statistics. More than 40 years after the Laotian Civil War, there are still casualties that resulted directly from the bombs that was dropped by the US and Laotian Air Forces. In the past 10 years, 29 people were killed while 36 were injured from live UXO's and chances are, the actual numbers may be higher as there are a lot of remote communities living far away from civilisation in this country.

It's mostly bombs inside.

The flipside of those stats is how much good UXO Laos is doing for the people as they have cleared more than 29 million square metres of land, benefiting an estimate of half a million civilians since 1998. The exhibits at UXO Lao Visitors Centre were simple, blunt and filled with unconcealed resentment towards the US imperialists who turned their foreseeable future into a massive nationwide game of Minesweeper. I think it makes for a great double feature with the COPE Visitor Centre in Vientiane.

Adjacent to the UXO Lao Information Centre is a small park that featured a statue of the Red Prince, giving applause to shrubbery. The park was pretty devoid of people.

"Here, have an invisible burger."

The Red Prince is the nickname given to Prince Souphanouvong, the son of the last vice-king of Laos. He was also the figurehead leader of the Lao People's Revolutionary Party and later, when they seized power, was made the first President of Laos.

In another part of town right beside Pothisalath Avenue, you'll find a bust of the first Prime Minister of Laos who then succeeded Souphanouvong as the second President of the communist republic.

Monument du President Kaysone Phom Vihane.

Walking along the Mekong in a southwesterly direction on Pothisalath Avenue, you'll find a side road to your right leading to some place with the unlikely name of Ock Pop Tock. It's right after you pass the Phosy Market.

Welcome to Ock Pop Tock.

To be precise, it is the Living Crafts Centre belonging to the textile and weaving enterprise based in Luang Prabang called Ock Pop Tock and here in its beautifully manicured grounds, they have their weaving and dyeing studio and craft school where if you like (and have a lot of loose change), you can learn how to make amateurishly created versions of the scarves and shawls you can buy at the Handicraft Night Market by paying less. If you have serious cash on hand, you can even stay in one of their four guest rooms, each decorated according to the aesthetics belonging to different indigenous tribes in Laos - the Katu, Hmong, Tai and Hill tribe people.

There are suppose to be free tours there but in my first visit there and my second visit the next day with Cheryl, we were told different excuses as to why the tours didn't happen according to schedule. I suspect it was because we didn't look like we were going to buy any of their overpriced merchandise.

Some of the in-house artisans, working a loom.

A massive carpenter bee (Xylocopa sp.) which was stuck in the indigo dye exhibit above the cafe at Ock Pop Tock that was almost two inches in length.

Dead domesticated silkmoths (Bombyx mori) with raw silk cocoons on display.

A lady walking on a sand bar by the Mekong, as seen from the cafe at Ock Pop Tock.

I went back briefly to our guesthouse after my visit to the Ock Pop Tock Living Crafts Centre to check up on how my lady love was holding up and to bring her lunch. After showering and taking a nap, I headed out again in evening to hunt for dinner food. On my walk, I dropped in on Wat Wisunarat, a temple build in 1513 during the reign of its namesake but it was already closed when I got there. The original was crafted from wood but after it was burnt to cinders by the Black Haw raiders who stormed Luang Prabang in 1887 so they learned their lesson and rebuilt one from stone.

Streamers on bamboo poles at the back of Wat Wisunarat.

One of the most distinctive installations at Wat Wisunarat is the That Pathum which is more popularly known as That Makmo, or the "Watermelon Stupa" for obvious reasons.

That Pathum or That Makmo at Wat Wisunarat.

Fun with Engrish.

And thus concludes my brief day of exploration of the B-list attractions that the city of Luang Prabang has to offer. When we return, you will be reading about the two most unforgettable experiences we had in our last two days there.



RELATED POSTS:
Vive La Vientiane: Part One
Veni, Vidi, Vang Vieng: First Night in Town 
Veni, Vidi, Vang Vieng: Climbing Pha Ngeun
Veni, Vidi, Vang Vieng: The Blue Lagoon at Tham Phu Kam
Veni, Vidi, Vang Vieng: Solo Mountain Biking Trip to Kaeng Nyui Waterfall  
Veni, Vidi, Vang Vieng: Tubing Down the Nam Song
Veni, Vidi, Vang Vieng: Last Day in Town at Pha Poak and Lusi Cave
Sabaidee Luang Prabang: The Night and Morning MarketsSabaidee Luang Prabang: Phou Si Hill, Haw Kham and Wat Xieng Thong



Immune to diarrhoea,
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Teach the Controversy, Teach the Katu's Origin of Mankind Story

"We have reason to believe that man first walked upright to free his hands for masturbation."

Lily Tomlin

I was honeymooning in Laos with the Crazy Cat Lady™ earlier this year in February and on the 11th, while exploring the city of Luang Prabang, we came across the TAEC (Traditional Arts and Ethnology Centre) which is an independent non-profit museum that aims to collect, preserve, and interpret the traditional arts and lifestyles of the country’s many and diverse ethnic groups. Even if you are not into tribal culturalism, the air-conditioning here is a welcome respite from the dusty Laotian dry season heat. Or monsoon rains, depending on when you're in the country.

The most interesting exhibit there was a pair of black wood carvings of a dog and an alleged woman which summarily represented the origins of the Katu people. It was said that long ago, a great flood covered the world which killed everything except a woman named Anoi Amek and a dog called Apuu Paner. The dog wished to marry the woman but she - quite understandably - refused the amorous pup. She said that she would only marry the dog if he fetched fire from the top of some mountain and in the first two attempts, the dog failed as the fire he carried was extinguished by the rivers and streams he crossed in his return. At the third attempt, he captured the fire in a gourd tied around his neck and with that prize, won Anoi Amek's hand in marriage. They somehow managed to produce human children who later intermarried, giving rise to the Katu people.

I think that there should be some deleted scenes here preceding the birth of their children but never mind that now.

You can see the fire gourd hanging from the neck of Apuu Paner.

Of course, aside from the impossibility of a global flood, fire surviving in a watertight gourd, a dog which can understand the concept of matrimony, and fertile human children resulting from the union between a Homo sapiens and a Canis lupus familiaris, this myth is no more fantastic than how some Middle Eastern desert people believed that a deity created the first man from dirt and the first woman from his rib, and then commanded them to never eat fruits from a particular tree. A talking snake supposedly tricked them later into disobeying, resulting in their creator cursing them and banishing them from paradise, after which they managed to populate the entire Earth with their incestuous descendants.

If creationists argue that we must teach creationism or intelligent design in schools as a competing theory to evolution, then we must teach the controversy in churches regarding the origins of mankind! It's only fair.



Advocate for the diversity of bullshit,
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Sabaidee Luang Prabang: Phou Si Hill, Haw Kham and Wat Xieng Thong

"As I see the world, there's one element that's even more corrosive than missionaries: tourists. It's not that I feel above them in any way, but that the very places they patronize are destroyed by their affection."

House of the Tiger King: The Quest for a Lost City (2003)
by Tahir Shah

The view of the old quarters in Luang Prabang by the Mekong from the top of Phou Si Hill.

Luang Prabang is a very well-loved stop for any backpacker working their way through Southeast Asia and it is easy to see why. It's like an entire city that's designed for travellers and tourists. Old, ornate Lao Buddhist temples are found every which way one looks. The more affluent old quarters with its restored French-Lao fusion timber and brick villas were postcard-perfect and most of which had been converted into guesthouses and boutique hotels. There are restaurants and bars here that cater to every appetite imaginable ranging from high-dining European outfits, Lao specialities and romantic riverside eateries to French book coffeehouses, Belgian bars and Australian sports pubs. If you tire of the old town idyll you can just hope on a tuk-tuk that will bus you to the nearby Tat Sae and Tat Kuang Si waterfalls which looked like they were constructed based on illustrations seen in a fairytale book. Then you can take a boat ride on the Mekong to see millions of Buddha statues and statuettes squirrelled away in the Tam Ting caves at Pak Ou, or hike out to the countryside to see out-of-the-way Khmu and Hmong villages for total cultural immersion. There's something here for everyone.

Cat seen outside a shophouse along Sakkaline Road.

Some have criticised Luang Prabang for being an adult white people Disneyland. Foreigners outnumber the locals by a visually large margin. Every "ride" and "attraction" requires a marked up admission fee (unlike most of the temples in Vientiane which cost nothing to see). "Restored" houses were built to varying degree of adherence to the guidelines set by UNESCO (which inscribed Luang Prabang as a World Heritage Site in 1995) but more sensitive tourists can sort of feel the ersatzness in its controlled theme park atmosphere.

Still, both Cheryl and I enjoyed Luang Prabang a great deal. On our first day there, we decided to explore the central parts of the city, starting from a prominent hill rising from the middle of it all called Phou Si. The climb took maybe 5 minutes tops.



Phou Si Hill

Don't read this too quickly.

Right at the summit are a couple of temples and what has to be the best possible view of Luang Prabang one can get without the power of flight. There were a number of curios up there as well like a rusty old anti-aircraft cannon, a radiant gold stupa called That Chomsi, oodles and oodles of golden Buddha sculptures in every pose imaginable and the purported imprint of Buddha's feet which, if proportionate in size to the rest of his body, meant that he must be at least 10 metres tall. And you know what they say about men with big feet.

The alleged mammoth footprint of Buddha housed in a little shrine.

Cheryl taking a selfie with a Buddha displaying the Abhaya Mudrā (the fear-dispelling or fearlessness hand gesture). Buddhas in most part of the world only raise their right hands but in Southeast Asia, they raise both.

Nagas or naks adorning the roofs of temples atop Phou Si.

Old wartime anti-aircraft cannon sitting in the middle of a Buddhist temple. Makes sense.

The view through a window in one of the Phou Si temples.

That Chomsi which crowns Mons Phousi.

We noticed that there is a robust industry present in Luang Prabang selling captive sparrows in tiny bamboo cages for visitors to release in some sort of show of compassion to accrue merit (puñña)  - which is the most wrongheaded, backward and hypocritical ritual imaginable! What sort of person can be stupid enought to miss the point so completely? To the credit of the European and American tourists, I saw none of them toting one of those tiny cruel sparrow cages while local and mainland Chinese tourists formed the majority of ignorami perpetuating the bird trade with their continued patronage.

Pointless cruelty for sale.

A couple of birds belonging to a bunch of Chinese tourists.

We didn't stay on Phou Si for very long because one can only take so many selfies with Buddha before one tires of the exercise. Buddha wouldn't be very much into it anyway since he always preached about anattā or "not-self", and that all concepts of individuality and ownership are illusory. Besides, a force of nature was churning in Cheryl's belly, compelling her make for the nearest commode. She wasn't amused when I started singing Frozen's Let It Go in an attempt to relax her sphincter.

The walk down Phou Si, on the north face of the hill.

Reaching the bottom of the hill which bordered Rue Sisavangvong, the main street of Luang Prabang's historical quarters, we stumbled across what we felt had to be the most charming wat in Luang Prabang. A sign outside calls it Wat Pahouak and it appears to be in a state of advanced disrepair. The ornate wood cravings that adorn its frontal facade were denuded of colours, and the beautifully intricate and aged murals that covered the walls of its interior were peeling and faded. It's like a broken ride at Disneyland that had been operational when the theme park just opened and by that virtue, was infused with a great deal of nostalgia and authenticity.

The front of Wat Pahouak.

The interior of Wat Pahouak.

Haw Pha Bang

Crossing the Rue Sisavangvong from the charmingly dilapidated Wat Pahouak, we visited the Royal Palace Museum (Haw Kham) which served as the former abode of Luang Prabang's (and Laos') kings. As soon as you enter the opulent grounds lined with tall Palmyra Palms, your attention would immediately be drawn to the white, gold and emerald Royal Chapel (Haw Pha Bang) to your right.

Haw Pha Bang.

Cheryl sitting on the steps of the Haw Pha Bang's posterior side.

As excessively gorgeous as the Haw Pha Bang is, the real star attraction is what it protects within its halls: the holy Phra Bang.

The Phra Bang displaying Abhaya Mudrā.

"Phra Bang" means "fine or delicate Buddha" and it is both the namesake of Luang Prabang (meaning "City of the Lord of Fine Gold") and the palladium of Laos. One can say that after the looting of the Emerald Buddha in Vientiane by Siamese forces, the Phra Bang became this country's most important relic. The figurine itself is a 83cm high standing Buddha that was cast in bronze and covered in gold leaf and was alleged to have originated from Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) between the 1st and 9th century however as the features of Phra Bang suggests like its distinctively Southeast Asian double-palmed dispelling fear mudra, it probably had later Khmer origins. The Siamese had apparently captured it twice and returned it in 1782 and 1867 because it was believed to be responsible for the coincidental political upheavals in Siam in those times.

Incidentally, one is allowed to stand right outside the Haw Pha Bang to view the Phra Bang but isn't allowed to take any pictures in its presence. A surly guard was posted in situ to make sure that that rule does not get flouted so the picture I snapped was taken from some distance away using my camera's zoom function. Hey, it's not like there isn't already a thousand pictures of it on the internet. Besides, it's also taken out on a procession on the 3rd day of every Pimai or Lao New Year.

A plump toddler playing with a broom right outside of the Haw Pha Bang.

Haw Kham

After seeing the greatest treasure of the Lao people, Cheryl and I moved on to the Royal Palace itself which is designed and built in 1904 during the French colonial era with a mix of traditional Lao motifs and French Beaux-Arts. After the royal family was deposed of by communists in 1975 and were taken to re-education camps, the palace was converted into a national museum which either condemns or celebrates the luxury in which the royalties of Luang Prabang enjoyed (it's hard to tell).

The Haw Kham or Royal Palace.

Cheryl was denied entrance initially because she was wearing shorts, presumably because they were afraid that her sexy legs will offend the imperial knick-knacks and antiques displayed here, so I was forced to shell out more money to rent a sȉn (an ankle-length Lao tube skirt) for her to enter a building she already paid admission to.

The King's bedroom.

Skint as we were, we did not splurge on a guide for the tour (the money went into renting Cheryl's sȉn) but if you are so inclined, you can easily shadow any of the dozens of guides leading groups of Americans who enjoy asking questions about communism and then nodding smugly after receiving confirmation that their own country is superior.

After we were done with the palace proper, we went to the royal garage to check out the antique cars that the royal family owned, and most of the information plaques there declared them to be gifts from heads of states in other countries. Seriously, why do people who can actually afford to buy expensive cars get them for free?

Old timey royal cars.

Petrol kiosks found right outside the royal garage.

There's also a supersized pond filled with fat, gluttonous koi fishes somewhere on the grounds. And this disapproving statue of Sisavangvong (or Sisavang Phoulivong) who was the king for whom the Haw Kham was built for.

"Harrumph."

Wat Xieng Thong

We headed back to our guesthouse for Cheryl to pump (she's still nursing) and then ventured out again at lunchtime but this time, she put on a pair of long pants to avoid antagonising the Lao fashion police further. This time, we make our way northeast to the tip of the peninsula formed by the confluence of Mekong and one of its tributaries, the Nam Khan to see Wat Xieng Thong - one of the most iconic monuments to Lao spirituality and traditional Lane Xang Arts-style architecture. Its name means "Temple of the Golden City".

The sǐm of Wat Xieng Thong. You can see Cheryl standing on its step wearing her rainbow hammerpants.

The sumptuous sǐm with its elegant multi-tiered sweeping roof formed the centrepiece of the temple complex and it is also one of the oldest still-standing monuments of Luang Prabang which dates back to antiquity having been built in 1560, making it a contemporary of my own hometown's Porta de Santiago.

CAN'T TOUCH THIS.

Every inch of the interior was completely ornamented with detailed murals rife with some symbolism or other and what it lacked in the grandeur of size, it more than made up for it with sophistication (that most other temples in Laos lack).

Aside from the main sǐm, I would also recommend checking out the adjacent Haw Tai Pha Sai-Nyaat or Chapel of the Reclining Buddha which contained a unique reclining Buddha statue which went as far afield as France when it was exhibited at the 1931 Exposition coloniale internationale (Paris Colonial Exhibition) which was basically the French's way of showing off how many cultures they have subjugated and robbed at the time. The reclining Buddha eventually made its way back home in 1964. The chapel containing it is also known as La Chapelle Rouge or the Red Chapel for obvious reasons.

DO NOT DISTURB. BUDDHA IS SLEEPING.

The Hohng Kep Mien or carriage house, which houses a titanic funerary carriage within.

Tree seen on the grounds of Wat Xieng Thong.

Cheryl wearing her brand new rainbow-coloured hammer pants outside of Wat Xieng Thong's sǐm.

Nam Khan and the Mekong by Night

That evening, we went back to the Handicraft Night Market and had our dinner at a roadside stall, but there's a lot more to that story so I am going to talk about that in my next travelogue. Cheryl considers that to be the worst decision she made in this entire honeymoon trip.

It was still early when we finished eating so we made our way to Rue Soulignavongsa which runs along the Mekong and parked ourselves at a riverside café where she had a coconut shake and I a piña colada, which I consider to be a quintessential holiday cocktail. I also had some frozen yoghurt while she had a Magnum chocolate bar all to herself. Then, we took our first picture together in this entire trip with the aid of my tripod.

Cheryl and I by the Mekong.

We took the long way back to our guesthouse because it was such a pleasant night for a stroll. Before long, we reached the other coast of the peninsula which banks the Nam Khan. A jerry-built bamboo pedestrian bridge spans the shallow river to a poorly-lit semi-rural neighbourhood.

Looking back to the city from across the Nam Khan. Inspire confidence, the bridge does not.

View of the Nam Khan from the rickety bridge.

The Night Market was already winding down by the time we made our way back to central Luang Prabang so we decided to turn in early as I intended to go hunting for alternative (and cheaper) accommodation tomorrow. Little did we know that that night, an unexpected and terrible fate would befall my wife and partner.



RELATED POSTS:
Vive La Vientiane: Part One
Veni, Vidi, Vang Vieng: First Night in Town 
Veni, Vidi, Vang Vieng: Climbing Pha Ngeun
Veni, Vidi, Vang Vieng: The Blue Lagoon at Tham Phu Kam
Veni, Vidi, Vang Vieng: Solo Mountain Biking Trip to Kaeng Nyui Waterfall  
Veni, Vidi, Vang Vieng: Tubing Down the Nam Song
Veni, Vidi, Vang Vieng: Last Day in Town at Pha Poak and Lusi Cave 
Sabaidee Luang Prabang: The Night and Morning Markets
Sabaidee Luang Prabang: Out Alone in the City



Went to adult Disneyland,
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