Dusty Roads, Dusty Faces: Getting to the Country

Well, friends, we’re back, after a long and dusty road of…dust. Seriously. That’s about all I can recall from our last couple of drives. We left Vientiane, having done all that city has to offer (like seeing the abandoned water park and trying to find the zoo that mysteriously disappeared at some point), two days ago, apparently a Tuesday. We never really know anymore.

The long road ahead



Getting a drink of water before heading on again.

 

We drove to a small town called Paxsan, one of those places where if you blink, you miss it. And we pretty much did. When we got close to the town we saw a guesthouse and decided to get a room there, as opposed to driving on and trying to find another one. The room was cheap, which was fine, but I’ll get to the not-so-fine stuff in a minute.

We dropped our things off, and headed back on the road to find a place with internet and food so we could do a little blogging. We drove couple kilometers and the small wooden buildings became ever more sparse so we had to pull over and ask each other if we had passed the whole city. We had, so we turned around and drove through the two or three streets of the actual town. And apparently the whole town is internet-free, so we satisfied ourselves with overpriced drinks at a bar outside of town, not blogging. Meanwhile, a few feet away from us, the ladies that run the place were sitting on the floor watching TV, while pulling wings off of giant bugs that they would later eat.

Ladies hard at work.



The final wingless product

If you want to see them in action, here's a video for you.

We ended up going back to our guesthouse where I debated taking a shower, but I decided against it. To do so would require me to stand against the toilet, over the flush-bucket (a bucket full of water and a scoop to dump water into the toilet when you’re finished. Also doubles as back-side wash water after a healthy number two), and far too close to a huge cockroach carcass being carried away by hundreds of tiny black ants. Instead, I took a nap, covered in red grit from the dusty drive.

 When I woke up, Ricky and I went for dinner at a karaoke place where no one was singing and there were 3 whole tables of people. I ordered “fried fish with basil.” What came to me was undercooked, boiled fish with onions and carrots, whole leaves of basil on stems, and sliced peppers in an unbearably spicy sauce. By the third bite I felt like even my teeth were on fire.

Now, there are a few things I really dislike: snow on my face, overuse of the word random, Crocs. But needlessly spicy food is at the top of the list. Everything from my gums to the back of my throat were tingling with some sort of mutant-power chili spice.  I had to take a break every couple of bites so I could down some more soda, and by the time I was finished (and given away the mushy uncooked bits to the begging dogs around my feet), I was so grumpy and in pain that I demanded we stop to find ice cream on the way home, which we did.

Today we got up and headed out of the guesthouse, once again not bothering to shower. The roach was gone, but when Ricky tried to rinse his hands off in the shower, the shower head fell off.  So we hit the road, not caring how dirty we were, because we knew we’d just get dirtier. And did we ever.

Now, I sweat. A lot. And here in Laos it’s incredible the way my sweatstache reappears just seconds after wiping it away. So when I’m covered in sweat and then driving on sometimes-unpaved roads, I get real dirty real quick. Take a look at this pic. That’s not tan. That’s dirt.

Here's a better view of the karsts behind us.

And an even better one.

We also had to drive through veritable clouds of white butterflies. Now, butterflies may look delicate and sweet, but when you hit them going 80 km an hour, they feel like rocks pelting you.

 When Ricky and I finally got into the village we were to stay at, I was so gritty and dirty that I could scrape off layers of it with my fingernails. We decided to eat before we really got settled, and while we waited for the food, I decided to have look at a nearby market for a loofah or bath scrub of some sort. What I found was a scouring pad, guaranteed to get rid of grease and grime. Well, I was covered in that stuff, so I bought it, and let me tell you, I’ve never felt cleaner.

Of course, the glory of my super clean and shiny skin didn’t last long, because the power shortly went out, so Ricky and I played cards by headlamp in the main building, while small children chased puppies in the dark and somehow did not fall.

So now the lights are back on and I am typing this while we wait for our post-dinner dinner. The Lao boy next to me is playing World of Warcraft and there’s a moth fluttering on the floor. I have to admit that the last couple of days have been pretty strange, but sitting next to this kid that thinks he’s a warlock is pretty cool.

 

The Day We Became Fugitives in a Foreign Country

Today started off as a normal day. I woke up quite late because I couldn’t sleep. Meanwhile, Ricky was on the bunk below me, giggling to himself while watching Top Gear.  At about noon, we got out of bed, had ourselves some cereal and prepared for the day.

Some of our plans fell through, so we decided to go for a little drive and see a couple of sights.  We headed toward a huge golden stupa in the distance, and as we neared, we saw that what separated it  from us was a massive empty parking lot, the kind you put a traveling carnival in. As soon as we scooted in past a mostly closed gate (which should have been our first sign), Ricky got a devious grin on his face.

“This is going to be fun.”

We drove around the lot for a while until we came to one end and he challenged me.

“Naught to  fifty to naught.”

So we backed up to the curb, counted down and took off. Much to Ricky’s surprise I stayed right with him, and when I looked down I was nearly at 55 kmph and slammed on the brakes.  My tail snaked around me, but I stayed upright, much to my own surprise.

Well, it was so much fun that we decided to go again so we headed back to the start. Right behind us, however, were the coppers.

I smiled at them as they headed toward us, despite my fear that I was about to be arrested, because I heard that was the best defense mechanism for Lao police, and offered a cheerful “Sabaidee!” (hello)

They didn’t speak English, but sign-languaged their way into telling us that we can’t be here and that we have to leave. We apologized profusely, told them we would exit right away, and thanked them with a smile. Before we had put our helmets back on they had driven away.

We were pleasantly surprised, because we had heard some horror stories about foreigners being locked up or forced to pay outrageous amounts of money.

Well, our time would come…

Later in the evening we met a couple from Spain and an American girl they were traveling with. We sat and chatted for a while, then went off for dinner. After dinner, Ricky suggested that we burn some cash. Literally.

See, in China, they sell fake 100 RMB bills for people to burn in huge piles on the street. When they burn, the ashes and smoke go upward, toward the person’s ancestors in the afterlife. There, they will be rich.

Ricky had bought a stack of the money in China but we had never gotten around to burning it. So we got the money and headed down to the shores of the Mekong River to make an offering to our ancestors.

We sat in a circle, taking turns tossing bills into the small fire, as we said who each one was for. Grandmothers, grandfathers, great aunts, everybody. It was actually quite nice to take a moment and think of the ones we had lost.

We had just burned the last bill and begun talking about how we felt (awww!) when trouble came.

The police came to bust up our party. There was one who seemed to be in charge, and a few lackeys.  

The conversation went something like this.

Police: You, no here.

Us: What?

Police: You, no here, after 9. You mistake.

Us: Oh yes, mistake! We made a mistake, we can’t be here after 9! We’ll just be going now!

Police: Stop! You, Thailand *swimming motion*

Us: No sir, we didn’t swim over from Thailand. See? We’re dry

Police: Passports!

Us: Sorry, we don’t have our passports with us.

Police: You, mistake, no here. Follow me, police station.

Us: What? Why? We’ll leave now. We didn’t know. We’re very sorry.

Police: Passports! You smoke?

Us: What?

Police: You smoke (something no one understood)?

Us: No, sir, we don’t smoke that.

Police: Bag! (pointing at Ricky. He then proceeds to go through the contents of our backpack. He was 

very suspicious of one pen.)

Police: You follow me police station. Give mistake money.

Us: Well, how much?

Police: (counts us) Ah,  5. Ah, $200 each.

Us: What? No way! We don’t have that! We’ll just be going now.

We began to walk away, ignoring a weak “Stop!”

We walked faster, feeling like fugitives escaping the law, and when we were brave enough to look behind us, we realized they weren't following us. We walked fast anyway and hurried through the marked and out the other side, back to our guesthouse where we caught our breath and thanked our ancestors for helping us out, which was nice, after all that money we sent them.

So now we’re here, safe in our tiny dorm room, with a cement floor and a window that looks out into the indoor stairwell,  basking in our fugitive glory.

The Lao police probably aren’t hunting for us, and that’s probably for the best, but being a fugitive for those couple of minutes today sure was exciting!

7 Reasons Why Traveling as a Couple is the Best Way to Go

Most of you know that Ricky and I met while we were teaching English in China, and have been pretty much inseparable since. We planned our travels for months before we actually left, working on the details of what to pack, what route to take, how much to spend, all that jazz. 

Ricky and I when we first met.

And now we’re out, traveling around, having a blast.  Now, it’s not all a bed of roses, but it’s definitely an amazing and eye-opening experience. So here’s a list of why traveling as a couple is awesome.

7.  It’s cheaper

Everything is cheaper when you travel with someone else because you share a lot more. Food is cheaper, hostels are cheaper. It’s also handy to have someone there to keep you in line with the budget you’ve set. Of course, there are those times when you both want to splurge on something, but that’s ok, as long as you’re both aware of how it will affect the budget.

It’s also wonderful to have someone with you when shopping at markets. Haggling is a must, and it’s fun to play the good customer/bad customer card.  Sellers offer you a “special price,” which of course is far too high. One of you thinks it might be ok (which of course it isn’t), and then the other puts on a grumpy face and refuses the price until it’s lowered (which of course it will be).  It’s team haggling!

On a tea-boat in the river, Chongqing, China.

6.  Less shopping pressure

Like I said, markets can be an intimidating place to shop. Fun, and exciting, but intimidating.  People are shouting at you from every direction.  And it’s impossible to browse. As soon as you show a tiny bit of interest in something, they are there in your face, showing you how much it costs, what it’s made of, etc. When you have someone with you, you can just talk to them and avoid the hassle of trying to communicate in a language you don’t speak when you’re not in the mood for it.

So excited to have visitor passes for the International Financial Center in Hong Kong.

5.  Better packing

There are a lot of things that we need to carry with us. We have a first aid kit, complete with medications we may need for everything from headaches to bowel problems, flashlights, rope, guidebooks, a laptop, lots of hand sanitizer, and so much more. All of the stuff that isn’t our personal clothing we split up between us so our weight is more even. I can’t imagine trying to cram all of that into just one bag, and having to carry it all myself. When you travel as a couple, you pretty much share everything you take with you, which lowers the weight that one person has to carry.

Time to dye our hair blue!

4.  More Food!

Yep, we like food. A lot. We like trying new things at interesting places. When there’s more than one of you, you can order 2 or 3 dishes you want to try without having leftovers you can’t take home.  And then there’s always someone to eat the stuff off your plate that you don’t like. (I usually end up with an excess of mushrooms.)

3.  More adventures

I’m sure you know that Ricky and I are doing a motorbike tour through Laos now. Before two weeks ago, I’d never driven a motorbike, and was somewhat less than steady on the two-wheeled beast.  But now, here I am, having driven on upwards of 200 kilometers through the jungle. I never would have done this if it weren’t for Ricky and his ideas of adventure. And I’m loving it! I can’t believe how much I would have missed out on if I had been traveling alone, and I don’t know if Ricky would do it either.

Time to get on the road!

2.  Companionship

Outside the war museum in Beijing

Yes, this is kind of obvious, and perchance a tad mushy. My apologies. But yes, when traveling you need companionship. Well, maybe you don’t, but I do. There are days when we’re tired or worn out or stressed or annoyed and we just need to stop and relax.  It’s times like that when I’m especially glad that I have someone.  We can stay in the hostel all day, watching reruns of Parks and Rec or Top Gear, playing spider solitaire together despite the fact that it is “solitaire,”  only leaving for food. 

And it’s nice to have someone there to bring you a sandwich, make sure you have enough water, and spend the day reading without a complaint instead of exploring the town while you’re sick in bed.

1. Someone to share with

I don’t just mean food here. I mean a deeper kind of sharing, the kind of sharing that can only be done standing on top of a hill looking down on an amazingly lit skyline, or looking in wonder at giant pandas, or swimming at beautiful waterfalls, or exploring massive caves. 

Amazed by the giant Buddha in LeShan

  But there’s also someone to commiserate with during the times that aren’t so great. There’s someone there to share the times when you’re both suffering on a crowded hard-seat train for 20 hours, and when you’re lost somewhere in a huge city.

Forget those silly pandas--look into my eyes!

After swimming at the Kuang Si waterfalls in Luang Prabang, Laos.

It’s the kind of sharing that makes traveling—and life—better.

Like I said, traveling together isn’t all smiles and happy-go-lucky skipping through fields of flowers. Sometimes it’s hard—really hard. But the good times outweigh the bad, and I can honestly say that there’s no one else I’d rather live this experience with.

Hong Kong skyline.