A one hour river cruise up the Nam Ou was how it was described to us. What followed was two hours of complete chaos while we sat thirty five people deep in a questionable boat that most definitely shouldn’t have been holding more than ten of us, nonetheless, floating. And I can’t forget to mention the two small children that were sitting in my lap for the latter half of the ride. It was, to date, the most uncomfortable means of travel we had experienced. Or so I thought. The only thing that made the trip worth it was watching Brian’s face when the woman who piled up next to him decided to breastfeed her child. It was right out of National Geographic and Brian’s reaction was straight out of middle school. I laughed hard, which only lead to more discomfort since every time I laughed my spine dug deeper and deeper into the wooden planks that were stabbing me in the back. The view, had I been able to see it, I’m sure was beautiful. Northern Laos is truly stunning in landscape. The people, on the other hand, do not share my sentiment for the scenery. 

Perhaps it was because everyone in Africa and India were so outwardly kind and generous; giving everything when they had nothing; caring for everyone when you were a complete stranger; welcoming anyone before even knowing your name. (Even when they were trying to scam you, they were always kind!)

While traveling through Thailand, we never felt the same way as we did with locals in Africa and India, but we were always treated in a friendly way. And of course with a smile. But when we stopped to think about why, it all made more sense. Being one of the poorest countries in SE Asia, and not to mention, the horrific damage the US brought to this beautiful country, I too might not have the most favorable opinion of tourists, especially an American one.

A geographic misfortune, the number of bombs dropped on Laos is an estimated jaw dropping eight bombs a minute over the span of nine years during the Vietnam War. This amounts to more bombs used during all of World War Two. And decades later, they are still paying the price, as an estimated 30%, or 75 million bombs and 288 million cluster munitions (which sadly put children at a higher risk as they resemble toys), did not detonate and are still being discovered. Often times at the expense of others. The numbers are heartbreaking. 

All of this reignited an ongoing discussion Brian and I have regarding tourism in general, the benefits and downfalls. We long to visit these remote, undiscovered places, only to find that, not many exist today. With every passing day, week, and month; each new city, village, and country, we yearn to see more, learn more, experience more. But are we, in this passionate process, destroying the beauty woven into travel itself? By sharing our experiences and urging others to get out and see the world, are we killing one of our most treasured parts of life. Without tourism, what would come of small towns such as Muang Ngoi and Nong Khiaw. Surely they existed prior to the slew of backpackers that eat and drink their way through town. Will curiosity eventually kill the cat?

Our time in Muang Ngoi was short but greatly appreciated. Even after I was scolded by our guesthouse owner who threatened to charge me for my free breakfast if I didn’t finish everything on my plate. Little did she know I would have finished my plate regardless of her threat. Every evening, we walked the entirety of the village to the same restaurant, Gecko Shop, for dinner (highly recommend). The service is slow as snails but the food was outstanding.

Our visit coincided with what I think was the Laos Hmong New Year. A village-wide holiday celebrated by driving out the evil spirits and misfortunes of the previous year while simultaneously giving blessings and offerings for an upcoming year of health and prosperity.

The night of the celebration, we were actually stuck in the neighboring village after venturing out for some cave exploring. When we tried to return home, men with guns blocked all the side streets, as they believed anyone who entered or left during the ceremony would bring the evil spirits back in. 

Once we finally made it back in, we spent the rest of the evening relaxing, reading, and settling into the last six months on the road. We stayed at the Riverview PDV Bungalows and took advantage of our private balcony every chance we could. Every morning we woke up to a crisp, fresh breeze, relaxed in our hammocks, and watched the morning mist dissipate beyond the dramatic limestone mountains feeling eternally grateful for this opportunity and hopeful for the future of travel.

And then I caught the Laotian Plague. And had to sit through the worst boat ride there ever was back to Nong Khiaw. EVER.

S+B