Meditation and Being Indiana Jones - Failed Attempt No.1

I was warned about Vang Vieng (my current location in Laos) or I just heard uninspiring stories from the backpackers about tubing and partying. At first, my plan was to skip the place altogether but its location on the Nam Song river in the middle of beautiful karst formations changed my mind.

On my first day, I decided to do some caving, the second attraction of the city after tubing as the karst mountains are honeycombed with little caves and holes. I didn't have a map of the region and pretty much immediately after leaving my bungalow I had already forgotten the name of the cave I wanted to visit. I knew it was next to the Blue Lagoon but on the road I realized that most of the ponds and swimming places were called Blue Lagoons.

Signs are most often something pretty unintelligible as this.

After about 4 km of walking I found my cave. As I started climbing up the hill, two little boys were following me. They stopped a meter behind me when I stopped to take photos or enjoy the scenery, and they continued close behind when I did. I got annoyed. I wanted to have the hill for myself only and enjoy the nature alone (for company I would have stayed with the tubing people in the techno bars). It was time for a fight (they were kids, I know, but there was no way I was sacrificing my peaceful moment). I started with soft measures. I sat on a rock to contemplate the view. I read my book. I had some chocolate. I stayed there for 25 minutes but I was mostly focused on my irritation and not on my book and the boys didn't seem to mind the break and were having a stick fight. Once they got distracted and didn't seem to pay attention to me anymore, I moved on. But there they were again, one meter behind me. Time for harsher measures. I turned around so quickly that the little boys got frightened (it was war), I avoided my usual Lao style smile and pleaded them to leave me alone with a hard voice. NOW! Of course I knew that they were there for some money, to show me around the cave, but I had my own headlamp and really wanted to experience the it all by myself. They obviously got my point and let me ascend to the cave alone.

I took a step inside the cave's narrow entrance and took another step back outside. The weak wooden ladders didn't seem stable and the possible insects and little animals didn't tempt me much either (later I heard about the huge spiders and moth found in the caves). I decided to sat on a little trunk and enjoy the mountain instead, from outside. This little pleasure wasn't allowed for me however. The boys' father appeared from behind the trees. He sat 5 meters away from me and shamelessly started staring at me. I tried to ignore him and decided that this would be the perfect exercise for a meditation: ignoring his stare and enjoying the sound of nature around me. I took my shoes off and closed my eyes. As I didn't know how to start a meditation (should probably google it first), I started counting according to my breathing. I got to around 60 when I had to have a peek if he was still there. He was. Still staring at me. I closed my eyes again (with a good grip of my bag though). My meditation was however somehow distracted by the non-Buddhist thoughts of irritation. My mind was wondering from the guy to other trips I'd done to the sound of cows' bells and falling leaves (hearing the falling leaves was the closest I got to meditation, I guess) and again to some non-Buddhist ideas. The guy was coughing or shooting little stones around. More non-Buddhist thoughts. I opened my eyes, the guy was looking at me and pointing at the cave: "Cave?" Yes, I know, there's a red arrow signaling the entrance to the cave, I don't want or need your help (and I'm too coward to go inside anyway). The guy kept on pointing at the entrance. I started eating my omelette sandwich. That was my first meditation trial, I guess there's only a way to improve the control over my thoughts...

I continued to the Blue Lagoon that was neither blue or a lagoon. I didn't swim and I was slightly worried about my white skin's first contact with the bright sun (my nose is pretty red). I walked back to the main dirt road and found a sign indicating 2km to for the cave I was looking for and the "real" blue lagoon. I recognized the name. This time I completely ignored the cave and instead remained by the lagoon. Or blue-green deep river.

People were jumping to the water and swinging in the air with robes hanging from the trees in Tarzan and Jane style. I lowered myself to the river very slowly. After the day's experiences I understood how there was no spirit of Indiana Jones in me. In general, compared to the whole Vang Vieng crowd, I felt overly serious and uptight. Probably I also looked like someone really boring (but I have a PhD - almost, soon, hopefully!). However, the feeling was mutual as I had no interest in interacting with these people who had their bodies covered with "tubing tattoos" or something stupid written in their backs. And I couldn't help thinking of the Finnish proverb "stupidity grows in a group" (joukossa tyhmyys tiivistyy). Traveling alone, you observe this easily but, on the other hand, you can feel left outside. You're the intelligent one, but the one having no fun.

But this kind of fun?

Bronze, Golden and Inner Buddhas

I guess you can't visit Laos, and Luang Prabang in specific, without some Buddhist awakening. I got mine during the full moon chanting in a beautiful temple when I was listening to the orange-dressed monks kneeled in front of a golden Buddha. It was such a tranquil atmosphere that I couldn't help imagining how much better place the world would be if all the religions were as peaceful and concerned mostly by the individual achievement of inner enlightenment (to be honest, I still have very weak understanding of Buddhism and my assessment is only based on this short period of observation). After the chanting, I chatted with a monk who had, just like all the others, just shaved his head. He recommended me meditation and even to my own surprise I heard myself replying: "I should indeed." It wasn't merely to please the friendly monk but I was actually seriously considering trying meditation. I'm inspired by the tranquility of Luang Prabang, Laos and Buddhism and I'd love to bring some of it back home as well (the bronze miniature Buddha doesn't count).

At dawn, I woke up to see the daily alms giving to the monks. The monks parade through the city and local believers give sticky rice and other food. The monks only have a breakfast and lunch so this is enough for them.

In the evening, I was too full after my great dinner in the New York Times recommended restaurant 3 Nagas, so I was unable to meditate (or whatever you want to call the peaceful moment of emptying your mind of useless thoughts and concentrating on breathing for a few minutes). The same happened again the following evening. Now, I have moved on from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng that is sort of backpackers' paradise full of stupidity, 'tubing' in the river and drugs. My bungalow is luckily on the other side of the river, a bit further away of these people who have for some unknown reason painted their chest in neon colours. Maybe in my beautiful garden I will find the time to seek again the tranquility of temples.

Full moon chanting.

Pace of Laos

Beautiful Lahu girl.

It took me three days to get to my destination in Laos from Sapa. In total, I spent 24 hours in a bus to make a distance of around 400 km. But once across the border, you could immediately feel that you were in a different country. The pace got slower, people smiled more and the atmosphere just felt nicer. I didn't need to travel alone as I was accompanied by a group of people escaping the cold of Northern Vietnam just like me.

Setting a banana leaf lunch table in the forest of Nam Ha national park. Menu: sticky rice, omelette and veggies.

I finally got to Luang Namtha close to the border with China in Northeastern Laos. Although I again found myself in the rain, I booked a 2-day trek to a Lahu village through an ecological travel agency. Eco-tourism is actually a big thing in Laos and half of the money coming from tourism comes from eco-traveling (meaning that a large share of the money from tours goes to local villages). The trek was nice and visiting the local Lahu people was much more interesting than in Sapa. Our communication was restricted to taking photos and showing them to the children. A Dutch women's magasine was also very popular among the locals.

Life in the Lahu village was calm, children were playing with some simple wooden toy they were throwing around, men were gone working, young girls circled around us shyly. Our greatest interest was obviosuly in the "reproduction houses" (below) as we started calling them. These very small huts were Lahu's love hotels. As the whole family lives under one roof, in one big room, the little houses were there for some privacy (we of course imagined some handcuffs, Playboy magasines, and other accessories to be found there).

Finally, after enough of rice wine ("happy water" or lao lao), the international language of music entertained as well through the evening when the whole village joined us in our hut. The small cup with rice wine went around as long as there was something to drink. Memories about the evening were only to be found in the photos the next morning; rice wine had surprised the trekkers big time but whatever had happened it made us a great group of travellers enjoying each other's company. And here I am in Huay Xai with my fellow Quebequoise trekker waiting for a boat to take us down the Mekong to Luang Prabang.