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An interesting despatch from experienced nomadic travellers with insights and observations about a region where there are major changes in lifestyle-even involving ethnic fashion - taking place midst increased geo- political manoeuvring .
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OUR FIRST THREE months began and are coming to a close in Chiang Mai, Thailand . As a northern base it has worked well for us. We have been in and out several times; first for a month in northern Lao and then later with some friends showing them some of our favourite spots on the Burmese and Lao borders. Chiang Mai is convenient for accommodation, food, and transport links, as well for us, it is excellent for books new and old, anything to do with textiles and, most things Thai. And for the last three months of the year the climate is great. We spent most of November in Lao.
This time we crossed northern Thailand to Chiang Khong and from there crossed over the Mekong to Huay Xai in Lao. The north-western Lao provinces are remote, mountainous, sparsely populated with many extremely diverse ethnic groups. This was our first time in Huay Xai the provincial town for Bokeo province. Huay Xai is directly across the river from Chiang Khong and it takes only 5-10 minutes to cross over in a small boat. We have looked across to it many times from Thailand, this time we could look back from hotel to hotel.
The town meanders in a long strip following the low hills bordering the Mekong. To the north it quickly turns into rural and riverine villages. The centre is denser with the ports, more residential areas, shops and the old market. Further south is the new development with little regard for its beautiful river setting - new roads, construction compounds, transport and logistic facilities, new Chinese export businesses, new Chinese hotels, a new Chinese Market, preparation for the construction of a new bridge across the Mekong and a Chinese financed casino.
Huay Xai is in rapid transition. The other new development is mass Mekong tourism - the Luang Prabang flow-on effect. The old centre of town, about two hundred metres long, is almost totally given over to the arrival and departure of river travellers to and from Luang Prabang. Many don't stay at all or stay one night if they have to - it has the effect of mass queuing at the immigration check-point, a constant churning of disoriented tourists, crowding in the centre of town and making almost no contact with the local people or the town itself.
The other source of tourists is Thai package tourists coming over in groups to travel by bus up to a casino on the Chinese border or in some cases to go on via the new highway into the Sipsongpanna region of southern Yunnan. Already we had a pressing sense of China not being far away. All told we stayed there for nine nights and did our usual things - slow walking around the whole town, repeated visits to the market, sorting out reliable food, visiting temples, talking with local people, watching the river at different times of day and generally trying to make sense of the old and the new. We were strategically located for both the things of this world and the other.
Our hotel overlooked the boat landing and immigration check-point while directly across the street on a steep hill overlooking us was the main temple, with its very steep ornate staircase snaking up the hill. From our room we could see the forty monks descending at six each morning to go out on their morning alms round (well before the tourists started churning). While we were there we experienced four days and nights of a nine day long ceremony. The chanting began at about three am, went for a few hours, and then on and off throughout the day - it included some virtuoso performances, and lots of gongs and bells.
The village headman told us that it was a special nine day ceremony for the monks and that only the monks could enter the temple during that period. We are still not sure exactly what it was about but lying in the dark and listening to it was special. Also special was our meeting with Mr Somkhit. It happened by chance one afternoon while we were wandering around a small village wat. He hesitantly introduced himself to us, apologised for his poor English, told us that he was an itinerant English teacher and asked us awkwardly if we had any time to spare. We did have spare time and he asked us if we could come with him to his next class.
This became the first of several visits to English classes he conducted in different villages. Somkhit's concern was that he had learnt English from Lao teachers and that the children he was teaching had never heard English spoken by native speakers. He said that foreigners are always busy, in a hurry and just pass through Huay Xai - this leaves very little for a point of entry for a gentle Lao. One class was in a concrete and bamboo village meeting hall , where he, his wife and baby lived in a small back room (the amenities were a tap outside for bathing next to a small charcoal burner to cook over). There were more than twenty primary school children aged from seven to eleven, and when we arrived the numbers were swelled by children as young as two or three, parents and grandparents all who came to enjoy the spectacle.
The children were particularly bright and fresh for six o'clock in the evening. They were extraordinarily energetic, responsive and bright. We also discovered, that despite his modesty, Somkhit was a talented and resourceful teacher. Together we quickly worked out ways for the three of us to teach, we enjoyed it and the children (and the village) loved it. We enjoyed our return visits to the class at Ban Nong Sai. Six days later we travelled three hours to Luang Nam Tha (LNT). This was via the new major road link from southern China to northern Thailand (one of the last links in the proposed grand Bejing to Singapore highway). After less that two years one third of the road has almost collapsed and the surface on another third has largely disintegrated, while the last stretch was very good.
The other source of tourists is Thai package tourists coming over in groups to travel by bus up to a casino on the Chinese border or in some cases to go on via the new highway into the Sipsongpanna region of southern Yunnan. Already we had a pressing sense of China not being far away. All told we stayed there for nine nights and did our usual things - slow walking around the whole town, repeated visits to the market, sorting out reliable food, visiting temples, talking with local people, watching the river at different times of day and generally trying to make sense of the old and the new. We were strategically located for both the things of this world and the other.
Our hotel overlooked the boat landing and immigration check-point while directly across the street on a steep hill overlooking us was the main temple, with its very steep ornate staircase snaking up the hill. From our room we could see the forty monks descending at six each morning to go out on their morning alms round (well before the tourists started churning). While we were there we experienced four days and nights of a nine day long ceremony. The chanting began at about three am, went for a few hours, and then on and off throughout the day - it included some virtuoso performances, and lots of gongs and bells.
The village headman told us that it was a special nine day ceremony for the monks and that only the monks could enter the temple during that period. We are still not sure exactly what it was about but lying in the dark and listening to it was special. Also special was our meeting with Mr Somkhit. It happened by chance one afternoon while we were wandering around a small village wat. He hesitantly introduced himself to us, apologised for his poor English, told us that he was an itinerant English teacher and asked us awkwardly if we had any time to spare. We did have spare time and he asked us if we could come with him to his next class.
This became the first of several visits to English classes he conducted in different villages. Somkhit's concern was that he had learnt English from Lao teachers and that the children he was teaching had never heard English spoken by native speakers. He said that foreigners are always busy, in a hurry and just pass through Huay Xai - this leaves very little for a point of entry for a gentle Lao. One class was in a concrete and bamboo village meeting hall , where he, his wife and baby lived in a small back room (the amenities were a tap outside for bathing next to a small charcoal burner to cook over). There were more than twenty primary school children aged from seven to eleven, and when we arrived the numbers were swelled by children as young as two or three, parents and grandparents all who came to enjoy the spectacle.
The children were particularly bright and fresh for six o'clock in the evening. They were extraordinarily energetic, responsive and bright. We also discovered, that despite his modesty, Somkhit was a talented and resourceful teacher. Together we quickly worked out ways for the three of us to teach, we enjoyed it and the children (and the village) loved it. We enjoyed our return visits to the class at Ban Nong Sai. Six days later we travelled three hours to Luang Nam Tha (LNT). This was via the new major road link from southern China to northern Thailand (one of the last links in the proposed grand Bejing to Singapore highway). After less that two years one third of the road has almost collapsed and the surface on another third has largely disintegrated, while the last stretch was very good.
Our expected smooth journey turned out to be a dusty, bumpy one. On arrival we were struck by the extent of change in LNT since our first visit four/five years ago. LNT as we first saw it in its post-war form was a not very attractive town in a very attractive setting. The charm of this place to outsiders was the diverse street life. It is now even less attractive, more sprawling and built-up and the street life has largely gone. There is much more traffic on the main road; heavy transports, big buses and a fleet of mini-vans plying the road from there to China - there are as many Chinese numberplates as Lao.
There appears to be a building boom; very large Lao government offices, a mushrooming of Lao owned guest houses and hotels, and a lot of Chinese commercial and hotel buildings. (We were told that the new provincial office building was raised from four to five stories so that it would be higher than the equally new Chinese Royal Hotel - no one should be above the Governor). As a result the air is smokey, dusty and hazy. The goods in the market are all covered in dust. In the market most traditional handcrafts have disappeared. over nearly two weeks we came away with only a handful of traditional textiles.
The Chinese are becoming commercially and socially well-established in town - there is now a Chinese school but no evidence of a Chinese temple. It is hard to know what all of this means. The remaining "old town", the pre-war town, about five km to the south is still relatively intact with some convenient modernizations - and this in spite of the proximity of the new airport. The residential parts of town along the river remain much the same. But the farmland and traditional housing along the new road north to Boten on the Chinese border are being taken over for industrial and commercial uses.
There appears to be a building boom; very large Lao government offices, a mushrooming of Lao owned guest houses and hotels, and a lot of Chinese commercial and hotel buildings. (We were told that the new provincial office building was raised from four to five stories so that it would be higher than the equally new Chinese Royal Hotel - no one should be above the Governor). As a result the air is smokey, dusty and hazy. The goods in the market are all covered in dust. In the market most traditional handcrafts have disappeared. over nearly two weeks we came away with only a handful of traditional textiles.
The Chinese are becoming commercially and socially well-established in town - there is now a Chinese school but no evidence of a Chinese temple. It is hard to know what all of this means. The remaining "old town", the pre-war town, about five km to the south is still relatively intact with some convenient modernizations - and this in spite of the proximity of the new airport. The residential parts of town along the river remain much the same. But the farmland and traditional housing along the new road north to Boten on the Chinese border are being taken over for industrial and commercial uses.
We moved north up to Muang Sing, 11km south of the Chinese border. Muang Sing is an old and small town in a beautiful and productive valley surrounded by mountains. It has enormous ethnic diversity. Traditionally it was the seat of a Tai Lue warlord, then a French frontier garrison, then a major centre of the opium trade and, a major centre of CIA intrigue in the 1960s. Five years ago we found it as colourful as its history. This time we stayed for a week. We still found it interesting, we enjoyed it but it was hard going, cold, still with limited food options and we had to search for the colour.
Most visitors, except for one highly eccentric Dutchman and one very dedicated Japanese writer, seem to stay for only one or two days. It is a good place for walking, the valley is flat and the rice fields stretch in all directions to the foothills. It was harvest time and we enjoyed the golden colours of the fields and the daily harvest activities. It is relatively easy to walk out to the closer villages, particularly the Tai Lue and the Tai Dam. Occasionally we fell upon a loom and a weaver at work but less frequently than on our last visit.
Change is also occuring here. In the old craft market in the centre of town there used be a reasonable number of Hill Tribe and other minority women working away. Now the place feels quite forlorn. There are only two old Hmong women left - one in her seventies and the other her eighties. Their applique is still good but they are working in polyester. Neither could count nor speak Lao, so to make a purchase we had to produce the exact amount in the right denominations. It was too difficult to make multiple purchases at the one time - the arithmetic was beyond them. We looked forward to our daily visits with correct Kip notes in hand to buy another single item from each of them.
We suspect we were their only customers that week. We both felt sad after we had bought our last pieces. We had the sense that when these two women die this place will be empty. The main activity in town now centres around the new market and bus station about two km west. The ethnic difference is still apparent but most people are now dressed in imported Chinese copies of Indonesian sarongs or Chinese factory made immitations of traditional Lao tube skirts.
A very small number, about six or seven, Tai Dam women are there for a few hours each morning selling garments made of handmade and factory cloth but machine stitched. We enjoyed being among them and bought a few things, but nothing was great. Adjacent to the market a whole new town seems to be emerging - lots of Chinese buildings. Much of Muang Sing is certainly changing but to us it seems to be retaining, so far, a character of its own which sadly Luang Nam Tha seems to have lost. Certainly for some of the people life in Muang Sing is a little easier - there is more electricity than there was and often it is more reliable.
More goods are now available in this remote part of Lao, though many are of pretty inferior quality and dubious durability. The new hospital building looks much better than the old French building, but we were relieved that we didn't have to test its services. Much of the new housing is more solid and permanent, less attractive, but probably offering better protection in this harsher environment. While we were there the weather turned really cold with some cold mountain rain. There was nowhere to retreat to - the few eating places in town were open fronted and it was freezing in the hotel, even in bed.
People in traditional houses would have been more exposed than we were. After a week, the cold got the better of us and we beat a retreat all the way back to the relative warmth of Huay Xai. We are back in Chiang Mai with only a few days to go before we head south. There is still much more to be said about what is happening in northern Lao. We have left northern Lao but it has not left us - we still have a lot of lingering and nagging questions for which we do not have answers. Soon we will be in southern Lao. We feel we need time for our thoughts to settle>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
