Vang Vieng Pt 2

Making our way back out of the Chiang Dao Cave (Bees Cliff Cave), we again saw the light of day and had to let our eyes adjust for a minute before continuing onto the Tham Nam (The Water cave). After a short hike of about twenty minutes on a jungle trail, we made our way to where a tiny grass hut stood, collecting a small monetary fee in exchange for inner tubes to float into the cave with. A bit perplexed at where exactly the cave was however, we asked the man giving us the tubes where we were to start the float. He pointed to a small rope attached to a rock, leading into a small crevice that was supposedly the cave. Unsure at whether I would even be able squeeze through the narrow crack, I timidly sat my butt down in my tube, instantly getting chills from the water that had been underground for so long, making its way out into the light.

With our entire group now in the water, we pulled ourselves along the small rope, shimming our way under the jagged rocks that formed the mouth of the cave. Once inside, we could see only about twenty feet ahead of us into this watery abyss. Beyond that was nothing more than a dark fathom of a hole. We soon needed the small light of our headlamps, also given to us along with the tubes, to guide us through this underground water tunnel. The eerie drip, drop, drip drop from water seeping through the roof of the cave, splashing its way into the water we were afloat on, made it all that much more sensationally uncanny as we continued to pull ourselves deeper and deeper through the unknown.

Winding our way through the cave, we were able to stand up in a few spots where we would walk and then need our tubes again to continue on with the rope. Further and further we went until finally the rope ended, however with my dimming headlamp, I could see that the cave still went further.

Swimming my way deeper, exploring how much further the cave went back, I was now by myself in a dark cave, unsure of what might be swimming around beneath me. Drip, drip, drip was all I could hear as I got further away from the group, feeling my way along the smooth, sparkling walls of the cave that glimmered less and less in dimming light of my headlamp. Only able to see a few feet in front of me now, I could see the cave closing in, until finally my hands soon met water with rock. I had reached the end of this abstruse passageway and with one final glance down below me into the dark, murky water; my light shone its last flicker of light, leaving me vulnerable to whatever might be in there with me.

Panic, chills, goose bumps, hairs standing up on the back of my neck all seemed to come down on me at once as I began frantically paddling on my tube back to the others, who now sounded much further away. Heart pounding, trying to keep as little of my body in the water as possible but at the same time paddling as fast and as hard as I could, I finally turned a corner where I was able to see a head lamp off in the distance. Relieved a little bit, I tried not to make it seem like the boogie man and every other terrifying childhood nightmare was behind me as I slowed my stroke down, coming closer to Tommy and my other buddy Andy that had been waiting up for me.

Relieved that they had not noticed my spastic, panic stricken swim back, Andy informed me that two of the other’s headlamps had gone out as well and wanted to get out of there before anyone else’s died on them too. With Tommy’s headlamp being the only one still shining pretty bright, we decided to do the same, and began following the rope back out towards the entrance of the cave.

After yet another bumpy tuk tuk ride back into town, we were able to watch yet another amazing sunset that evening, and were able to catch some hot air balloons drift through the sky and vanish into the distance. The rest of our time in Vang Vieng was spent along the Nam Song River, and at the Blue Lagoon, where we lackadaisically enjoyed our afternoons swimming in the cool, blue waters and jumping from an old tree that hung over the brilliant, cobalt stream below. Vang Vieng was truly an amazing place that anyone could easily get stuck at, enjoying its endless beauty, but as for Tommy, Dustin and I, we were excited and eager to head off to our next adventure in Vientiane, the capitol of Laos, where we were to spend the infamous, wet and wild Laotian New Year festival called Songkran. Also known as the world’s largest, nationwide celebrated water fight!

On our way to Vientiane!

Loving Life in Luang Probang

After making many friends on our slow boat to Luang Probang, Tommy and I had a feeling that our time spent in this new, exciting town was going to be filled with shared fun and excitement with not only those we met on the boat, but also with Tommy’s business associate, Ryan that just happened to live in Luang Probang. Carrying our bags through town, we knew to head a ways away from the Mekong River, and into town to an interesting street where everything seemed to come to life a bit more with local flavor and excitement. Ryan had made this recommendation and we were sure glad he did, because on our very first day there we ended up getting introduced to the owner of restaurant/bar called Utopia through Ryan and we had a blast getting a local’s tour of all the main sights to see in town.

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The next day we headed out to the Kuang Si waterfall, where on our way up to the waterfall, we stopped at the Sun Bear sanctuary, where a group of activists protected the Sun bear from poachers who would cut off their paws and use them for holistic medicines and charms. The bears were very unique in color with a sort of white V-neck stripe on their chests. Much different than any bear I had seen before, the Sun bear was very agile and able walk across the smallest of branches and swing nimbly from tire swings and cargo nets, set up for their entertainment.

Continuing onto the falls, Tommy and I stopped a number of times to get pictures of the countless amounts of beautiful, smaller falls that ran right along the trail and eventually decided to jump in and cool off at one of the waterfalls to try and beat the humidity of the dry season in Laos.

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Coming up to a view point on a bridge, where most tourists stopped to take pictures of the main falls, Tommy and I were once again determined to scale the monumental waterfall to get a view of the valley and look down at the staggering falls. Finding somewhat of a path, Tommy and I began our ascent up and up, stopping at various shelves along the actual waterfall where water would collect in pools and then continue on falling down towards the main pool at the bottom. Higher and higher we scaled this goliath waterfall, until finally we reached the top where we looked down hundreds and hundreds of feet at the tiny specs of people that we could see pointing up at us. Standing at the edge of this huge waterfall, Tommy and I were able to capture some great images of the valley that the river ran through, and also get an amazing perspective on the waterfall that most weren’t able to experience. Overwhelmed with how beautiful all of our surroundings were, we tried to take it all in and just enjoy the moment there on top of the falls, but knowing that our tuk tuk driver was waiting for us, we began our descent back down to the trail where we had to stop at a popular water hole, where there was a small waterfall and a rope swing with  visitors swinging into the water.

Not able to pass up the fun, Tommy and I stole the show as we began flipping from the trees and off the waterfalls into the water hole. With a crowd gathering, we then saw some friends from our slow boat and began swinging from the rope swing with them, having a ball as we couldn’t pull ourselves from all the fun and excitement. However with the sun beginning to go down, we all made plans to meet up at Utopia that night and went our separate ways.

Having a blast with all of our friends that night at Utopia, Tommy and I began heading back to our guesthouse late that night when Tommy said he had felt a raindrop hit him on the head. Not believing him, because there hadn’t been a drop of rain in over five months here in Luang Probang, I continued on not thinking much of his comment, but then I felt a raindrop as well and I looked at him with bright eyes thinking that we just might catch the first rain of the season here in Luang Probang. Now I know you might be thinking, “big deal, it’s just rain”, but here in Laos, it is a big deal because not only does the rain clear the sky of all of smoke from the farm burn off and forest fires, but it also allows the opportunity for new growth, crops, and life, so as more and more rain continued to fall, Tommy and I began to get more and more excited as other people came outside their houses to witness the first rain of the season.

Before we knew it, we were caught in a torrential downpour and we began running for the bamboo bridge that crossed a smaller river in town. Dancing around, welcoming the rain, Tommy and I were out on the middle of this bamboo bridge, hooting and hollering, welcoming more and more rain as we began to see the sky light up as streaks of lightning would briefly illuminate our drenched surroundings. We then literally saw the river begin to rise with the astonishing amount of water falling from the sky. As we watched the lighting pass right over our heads, the downpour intensified until in finally moved on, carrying the rumbling of thunder as it made its way through the countryside. Standing there in disbelief, amazement and awe at what we had just experienced, we began laughing and high-fiving at what an incredible encounter we just went through. Making our way back to our guesthouse, we exchanged smiles with a few drenched locals in the streets that were also just as enthusiastic at the first rain of the season as Tommy and I were.

The next day we were fortunate enough to go with Ryan to the other side of the Mekong River, which had no bridge connecting it to Luang Probang. This detachment from Luang Probang put this side of the river literally fifty years behind in just about every aspect. None of the roads were paved, there was no electricity, and the only vehicles they had seemed to be motorbikes and makeshift plows that also acted as wagons to slowly transport people small distances.  Livestock, chickens, water buffalo and other animals wandered freely as we passed them on our motorbikes, driving deeper and deeper into the village. People from the villages would come out of their huts at the sounds of our motorbikes and wave to us excitedly, being that they don’t get too many foreigners on this side of the river. It was quite a treat seeing this way of life on this side of the river, and as we loaded our bikes back onto the transporter boat back towards civilization in Luang Probang, I once again found myself sitting in reflection, amazed at such a different way of life these people live. Probably ninety percent of those villagers hadn’t been more than a hundred kilometers away from their village and some might know nothing more than the village they live in.

On our last day, Tommy and I decided to wake up early to catch the monk procession that takes place daily. Monks solely rely on people’s giving to survive and so each morning, they walk around the town to collect only what they need (Alms) to make it through the day such as rice, vegetables, water, soap etc. It was quite the spectacle at six in the morning to see hundreds of monks flood the streets in their bright orange tapestries, single filed, collecting graciously what they were being offered from their devout fellow Buddhists that gave their daily tithe, if you will. This carried on for about an hour or so, until quietly each monk disappeared from the street, returning back to their monasteries.

With this religious occurrence leaving one last humbling memory from this unique town, Tommy and I were reluctant to go, but knew we had to move onto our next destination in Vang Vieng. As we loaded up onto the bus, we watched the town of Luang Probang fade in the distance as we began yet another crazy bus ride through the hills of Laos eager to start the next adventure in Vang Vieng. 

                                      

Slow Boat he Wrote

Sad to leave those adorable little kids at Mercy Ministries Orphanage, we pressed on to our next destination, which was Luang Probang to meet a business friend of Tommy’s named Ryan that just so happened to be living in Laos and offered to show us around. We heard of a few options of how we might go about getting to Luang Probang, but when we heard about the two day slow boat that went down the Mekong River we jumped on the opportunity immediately and booked our tickets at the Laotian border. A bit apprehensive at first, as over fifty travelers piled onto a long tailed boat that looked slightly less than buoyant with its ancient, thick wooden hull we soon set off with the current and were on our way. Getting further and further way from civilization, we soon began to see small villages scattered along the river’s edge. Small children would run to the banks of the river to wave to our passing boat as we slowly cruised by. Waving back with a huge smile on my face, I began thinking to myself just how secluded these people were. With no access to their villages other than by this river, some have never seen the world beyond the boundaries of their village and shoreline. Their lives consisted of only what they had to do to survive; catching fish, growing whatever crops they could along the shore and using only what natural resources they needed to get by. No eco-footprint whatsoever and one hundred percent sustainable.

Much of the slow boat ride to Luang Probang was spent reflecting on the trip so far and logistically planning out some of the next adventures in Laos and Cambodia. Quite a bit of reading was accomplished and plenty of socializing with other travelers became a must as we spent ten hours that first day on the river. Meeting new people and getting to know the most interesting characters this world holds is something that never gets old to me.

As the sun began to set, we saw the valley the river was running through transform as the sun brilliantly casted shadows and silhouetted various mountains and hills. The glimmer of the sun off of the water dazzled radiantly making it hard to not just stare at and appreciate how beautiful this part of the country truly was.

Arriving in a small stop over village for a night, we all piled off the boat, and stayed at a guesthouse overlooking the river. Surprisingly tired after a full day of doing really not a whole lot, we got to bed early that night, sure to catch the 9am boat the next day that waited for no one.

A bit groggy, Tommy and I made it to the boat and set off for another full day of beautiful scenery, card playing with a group of Brits we met, and of course more reading. Slowing down for a bit was actually quite nice; it gave Tommy and I a chance to re-energize and get prepare for the adventures that were ahead in Luang Probang.

Pulling into the dirt boat slip at around dusk, Tommy and I headed out into the town of Luang Probang with our packs and all of our gear, eager to meet up with Ryan and to see what adventures this new place might hold for us. 

                                     

A Peace of Pai

More than overjoyed to have finally arrived in the small town of Pai, Tommy and I took a good ten minutes of stretching our cramped bodies from the winding, uphill bus ride, before beginning to explore our options of where we might stay. As we began to walk down the street, we could instantly see that the people here were much different than in the towns we had visited prior. Dreadlocks, tie-dye, piercings, instruments from all over the world and much, much more was just the beginning of the unique followings this town held. As we came to a river, we noticed that on the other side, there were tiny huts lining the banks that were almost too quaint to pass up. Crossing a rickety, bamboo bridge, we began exploring which huts suited us best. Coming to a group of huts called “Family Huts” we put our bags down on the bamboo covered floor and headed out to see more of the town.

As we walked down what we thought was the main boulevard, I stopped in my tracks astonished, as I instantly recognized my good friend Mike that I hadn’t seen since we trekked together in Nepal. While this may be a small town, it was still quite shocking to just happen to run into him within the first hour of being there. With a big grin on both our faces, we began catching up and telling him about the shenanigans Tommy and I have been getting into in just the mere week we have been in Thailand.  After sharing a few beers, he then showed us his impressively matchless house and offered for us to stay with him to save a bit of money. Instantly accepting the offer, we moved into the second story, where every crossbeam had a hammock hanging from it to relax or sleep in. Hanging out a bit more with Mike later that night, he began telling us about what we could possibly see or do while we were here in Pai, but he said that most people don’t come to Pai to do things, they come to do a lot of nothing. Unsure what he meant at the time, Tommy and I were determined to see all three of the waterfalls in the surrounding area and maybe even camp again in the jungle.

Waking up the next day, Tommy and I mentioned the "Uh, oh" sound we had heard in Chiang Mai and with a slight laugh, he said that they were simply just lizards doing their thing. Relieved, Tommy and I headed into town with Mike for a bite to eat at his favorite local joint. With everything on the menu costing less than a dollar, Tommy and I were a bit skeptical at first at how good of quality this food might be. Sure enough however, Mike’s recommendation ended up being our regular spot to eat everyday due to how tasty this small, local spot was. After getting some food, Mike parted ways for a bit as Tommy and I began to explore the town on our own, via motorbike. It didn’t take long to circumnavigate the town, and we soon found ourselves in search for the first waterfall just outside of town. Going up a winding road with farms on either side of us, we soon made it to a dirt parking lot with many Tuk Tuks parked as well as rental scooters. Figuring that this was a pretty popular spot for locals as well as tourists, we began hiking into what we thought would be a beautiful waterfall. As we were hiking, we saw that there were all sorts of pipes along the trail, leading out towards the road. A bit bewildered at this, we put it off as a question to ask Mike later on.

After the short hike, we came to a clearing, where we saw a bunch of local, naked children sliding down the slippery rocks into a massive, natural pool. The giggles and cries of enjoyment from the children made the natural water park lively and energetic as both locals and travelers co-mingled among one another. Being the curious type that we are, Tommy and I wanted to find the source of where all of this water was coming from, so we began hiking up stream only to find more pipes, ruining the picturesque landscape before us. Reaching a point where we could go no further, the bundle of pipes also discontinued as the stream pinched through a narrow crevice of boulders. As Tommy and I sat at the top of this water source, analyzing this interesting place of abode, we then laid eyes on a quite interesting ex-pat that was sitting by the stream. Interested, not only in this ex-pat, but also about the pipes, we walked over to him to inquire about our curiosities. With long, salt and peppered hair and a mustache that would put Burt Reynolds to shame, his lengthy, string bean figure crouched by the water as he stroked a small, white puff of a dog that we assumed was his.  As he gazed down at the slippery, natural waterslide below we walked into the stream in front of him and gave him a friendly, “Hi, how you doing?” Un-phased by my presence, he slowly looked up at me and even more slowly stood up to give me a lethargic hand shake and a, “Hey maaan”. With glossy eyes and smile that hadn’t been acquainted with a dentist in years, I knew this guy had escaped from the daily grind of the states long ago and had been living in Pai for quite some time now. After speaking with him for about half an hour, Tommy and I had found out that the pipes were the town’s only source of water, and that the pipes we had seen ran from the falls, all the way back to town to three different water towers, all gravity fed.

Our new friend, John, then showed us some pretty cool local sights that most don’t get to read about in their Lonely Planet’s and internet searches. We ended up spending the entire afternoon with John listening to stories, hanging out, and really getting a feel for what Pai life was all about.

After realizing that it was almost dark, we then left our new found friend and went back into town to hang out with Mike and some of his local buddies. Mike lives in Pai for approximately six months out of the year. The other six months he spends as a personal chef on a yacht, so he is quite well connected with the locals in town and knows his way around quite well. We spent quite a bit of time with Mike as he showed us his way of life here in Pai. Each day we hung out with him, the more and more Tommy and I wanted to move there and live blissfully in this tranquil paradise.

The next day Tommy and I tried to imitate local life in Pai by doing nothing. Sometimes it’s great to just have no agenda and see how the day unfolds. We started off by walking into town, running into new found friends we had met the previous days, talking, eating, hanging out by the river, playing instruments and really just relaxing. In complete contentedness, we managed to spend six days like this, and by the end of the week, we couldn’t walk more than a block without running into someone we knew or someone that was friendly enough to chat with us for a while. We quickly began to see why there were so many foreign locals here living in Pai. It was perfect here; complete beauty in every direction, good people, incredible food, great live music, and a simplistic way of life that had everyone walking around with a smile on their face and a shoulder to lean on. What a great experience to encounter such a unique culture.

To top the week off, Tommy and I decided to visit the elephant camp just up the road from Mike. Arriving to a scene of five, massively beautiful creatures, masticating the trunks of banana trees as if they were cotton candy, Tommy and I just stood in awe of these extraordinary creatures. Walking right up to one of the larger ones, it instantly reached out towards me with its bristly trunk. Grabbing hold, it powerfully pulled me in and gave me a gentle hug against its massive head. Instantly falling in love with these gentle giants, I couldn’t wait to become more familiar with them in the river. With a sharp command from one of the elephant guides, my elephant, (Mimi) lifted a knee for me to step on as she then boosted me up onto her back. Sitting well over then feet off the ground, I instantly had a beaming smile that lasted the rest of the day.

With Tommy then getting hoisted up onto Mimi’s neck, she then effortlessly began strolling towards the river, slowly and methodically. Analyzing this magnificent creature from upon its back, I could see how tough and rugged she really was. With thick, coarse hair growing out of a leathery, wrinkled, light gray skin, stretched over a massively burly body, Mimi hardly noticed the both of us as she casually sauntered towards the much desired river with her tree trunk sized legs. The magnitude of Mimi’s head alone was the size of the front of a car and her playful, curious, ten foot long trunk waved about, grabbing bits of vegetation along the side of the road that she would toss in her mouth.

With the river in sight, it was almost as if Mimi began to get a bit of pep in her step a she eagerly awaited the feeling of the cool water on her dry, cracked skin. As Tommy and I entered the water with her, we were immediately doused with water from the spray of Mimi’s trunk, and before we knew it, we were rolling around with her in the water. It was unbelievable how playful Mimi was, as well as all of the other elephants as they began spraying water all over the place, and submerging themselves, revealing nothing but their snouts. It was easy to see just how much enjoyment these elephants were having as they frolicked about in the water, weightless and free in their watery playground.

Spending well over an hour in the water with Mimi, I felt as though I created a connection with her. Maybe it was because I was overwhelmed at the fact I got to meet an elephant for the first time, but as we played in the water, I gazed into her wise, intelligent eyes, hugged her telephone pole size trunk, and felt as though we bonded that day.

Leaving the elephant park was not easy, but as Tommy and I putted down the road on our scooter, I couldn’t help but hope that the old saying, “An elephant never forgets” was nothing but true. 

The Love of Chiang Rai

After an amazing experience in Pai, with our good buddy Mike, Tommy and I were off to meet yet another mutual friend that lives in Chiang Rai. Our good buddy Dominic Martinez, whom we’ve been friends with since middle school, has an aunt who has been running an orphanage in Chiang Rai for the past twenty years. Eager to Dominic’s Aunt Rose, we convened at the Chiang Rai bus station with high hopes of helping out as much as we could around her orphanage. After meeting and greeting and sharing our story on the car ride back to the orphanage with Rose, she informed us that most of her volunteers stay a minimum of three months so that they can really get to know the kids and form meaningful relationships with them. She also notified us that she does extensive background checks on all of her volunteers to make sure they are there for the right reasons. Tommy and I were a bit surprised at the stringent process most people have to go through in order to help out in these orphanages, but after hearing Rose tell us about a few unfortunate incidences with volunteers, we quickly empathized with the volunteer background check process. Luckily for us, we were friends of the family and were able to do the little bit that she had planned for us without any stipulation.

Arriving at Mercy Ministries orphanage Chiang Rai, we were immediately met by young boys and girls running up to the vehicle. Barely being able to get out of the truck with a boy on each arm and another on my leg, we threw our bags down and got straight to having fun with the kids. Everyone one of them was so much fun to be around and was so eager to practice their English by telling us all about their schooling, sports activities, favorite foods and so much more. Instantly becoming best friends with twenty kids was a bit overwhelming at first, but I soon realized that whatever I was able to give, was the least I could do for these young, animated, unique individuals. Each one of them had such strong personalities and was quite independent, despite the gracious help and love they’re given. One boy in particular, Apa, invited me to go “running” with him each morning at 6am. Not usually at my best this early in the morning, our jogs quickly became saunters and then simply casual walks, as it was hard to breathe with all of the burnings taking place in the hills and on the farms. Apa showed me where he went to school and told me what activities he was involved with, who his teachers were and so forth. The best part of it was just being able to spend some one on one time with him and get to know him a bit.

Unfortunately Tommy became very sick the day we arrived and struggled through a temperature of 102 for nearly two days of us being there. I guess it was a stroke of luck getting to the orphanage when we did, because as Tommy began to slowly deteriorate, matters quickly got worse as he was barely able to stand up. Going through similar symptoms in India for a week, I knew that what he was going through was going to test him mentally and physically. Fortunately there happened to be a nurse visiting from Cambodia that was able to look at Tommy and give a prognosis of signs to look for if he were to get worse. Luckily though he was on the mends after two days, and slowly came back to life and was able to spend some time with the kids.

During the day, one of our projects was to paint the multi-purpose room at the orphanage which was fun to do with the kids, but every night we had movie night, where we would watch a Chinese, Kung Fu, soap opera-type storyline take place. Even though it was dubbed in Thai, and I couldn’t understand a word of it, I still loved just being there with the children, watching their faces light up at every flying high kick and super punch that was soon being imitated by everyone in the room. Getting distracted from the show, the Kung Fu sessions would usually end up going outside, where we would all break out in an epic battle of pretend jump kicks to the chest and flying punches of a thousand fists to the face. Pretend victims would go down in slow motion, just like in the show, making some sort of grandiose sound of defeat as they slowly plummeted towards the field we were playing on.

All tuckered out from battle, the cries of victory soon turned into yawns of exhaustion as it was clearly time for bed. Saying goodnight, giving twenty hugs, high fives, and pretend karate kicks to the children was usually how the night ended. Before hitting the lights each night, I’d make sure Tommy was still breathing before I then fell right to sleep, dog-tired.

One of the days I was at the orphanage, I was fortunate enough to take a ride up to the Golden Triangle of China, Thailand and Laos with Rose. A huge gateway for trade, this is unfortunately also home to one of the largest drug smuggling areas in the world. Despite the regrettable drug smuggling, it was still great to be on the border of three countries, spending time with Rose and some of her colleagues and volunteers. On our way back we were able to stop at another orphanage that Rose is associated with. Similar to the orphanage Tommy and I were staying at, this orphanage was home to some thirty-seven young boys and girls; however this orphanage specialized in very young children and babies as well. Seeing these youngsters was quite heart breaking because unlike the older children, these shy little guys were still trying to grasp why they were there exactly and why they weren’t with their moms. Trying to play ball with a very apprehensive young boy, I could see in his face the confusion and distraught that he was going through. After a little while though, he opened up and I managed to get a smile out of him before we left.

With sunset ending our time at the orphanage all too quickly, we said goodnight to the youngsters and headed back to Rose’s orphanage back in Chiang Rai. The next day we had to leave to Luang Probang to meet yet another friend. Saying goodbye to the kids was by far the hardest thing I’ve had to do on this trip so far. I wish I could have stayed another week, or another month for that matter. Watching their little smiling faces and waving hands as they chased after the car was an image I’ll never forget and a memory I will always cherish.