A haphazard chronicle of my inevitable misadventures during a year in Vietnam and points east.

p.s. I'll be pitifully grateful if you send me email during my exile: TravelerKaty@hotmail.com

October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 February 2006 March 2006 May 2006

 
Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang, Laos

My mother has pretty much the same haircut she had in her very cute 1960 high school graduation photo. She's never changed it to any noticeable degree in the interim -- once you've figured out what looks good and feels right, there's no real point to experimenting, I guess. Her hair is fairly short, dark brown and curly all over, and every few months she gets a perm to rejuvenate things. Often the perm is too dramatic, however, and Mom sets to work with the blow dryer and curling iron to tame it back into respectability.

It was those first few days of Mom's new perm that I was reminded of during the lovely drive from Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang. The mountains are gorgeous, with sheer rock faces surrounded by lush vegetation. The rounded tops of the thousands of leafy tropical trees is what made me think of curls -- countless overdramatic perm curls up and down endless mountains in the distance. I'm pretty sure my mother is now thinking of ways to slowly torture me for this comparison, of course. You have very nice hair, Mom, and the Laotian countryside is equally beautiful.

The tropical mountains, which also actually reminded me of spears of broccoli in varying colors (and I do not want to suggest that Mom's hair looks like, or ever has looked like, broccoli) got slightly less rocky as the drive progressed, and patches of hillside were logged, slashed and burned for a few years of crops, like reddish-brown scabs on the green landscape. Along the way are tiny mountain villages, perched upon ridge or clutching the steep hillside. Houses on stilts, with woven walls and thatched roofs either wedge themselves onto the little flat land available not consumed by the road, or hover half on land and half reaching over the abyss, long legs stretching for the distant ground.

It was actually fortunate that there was so much to enjoy along the way, as the trip was a bit terrifying, for two reasons. First, our minivan driver approached the twisty mountain road like a rally driver determined to vanquish the competition, which in this case was trundling public buses and logging trucks carrying trees so old and huge that each vehicle could only carry two or three at a time. The handle above my window was recently replaced and rebolted and I could see why. It was one of those trips in which you periodically examine the structure of the minivan and assess your chances of survival in a roll-over accident.

The second reason the trip was sort of scary was the whole guerilla issue, which I perhaps did not mention before I left Vientiane in the interest of saving my family some potential worry. In February, anti-government guerillas ambushed a public bus on the road to Vang Vieng and shot and killed all its passengers, including two European cyclists. Last month it happened again, with 20 killed including two Australians. The charred, bullet-ridden carcasses of the buses in question are still lying on the side of the Highway 13, one on its side and the other pushed partway into the jungle. It is for this reason, in addition to the added comfort offered, that I have been taking nice little minibuses this week, since they are unlikely targets for the rebels. It wasn't that I was on the edge of my seat the whole time (lord knows I couldn't have sustained such a position what with all the careening) but it was always in the back of my mind, however impossible it seemed on a lovely sunny day on a perfectly normal looking road.

At any rate, I have arrived in Luang Prabang safely, where I will satiate myself with Buddhist temples over the next few days.

Copyright 2003 Katy Warren
posted by Katy at 3:35 AM