Magical would be the first adjective for this special little place. The town itself is small, the surrounding areas are breathtaking. We scored one of the last bungalows overlooking the river and spent a few days trekking and doing some unsuccessful fishing. The trek to a local village led us through jungles, rivers, and harvested rice fields laden with cows and water buffalo. The trail followed the raised earth dividers that separated the rice paddies and at one point we came upon a cow that had just given birth. We witnessed the calf taking its initial steps and begin it’s very first feeding. (Alicia grew up on a farm and acted as our tour guide for this very Discovery Channel moment.)
The local village was set against one of the towering limestone karsts overlooking acres of rice paddies. Almost everything seemed to be done the way it had been for generations before. Yarn was spun onto small spools and fed into large wooden looms that the women used to make fabrics. Young children worked side by side with their mothers and the older children hunted and fished in groups. As we arrived a small group of them had just come back with a snake which was apparently going to be dinner. MMMmmmm! Somehow, even in the middle of nowhere, they managed to have satellite TV. The power came on from the hours of 6-10pm and, like the rest of the world, they would gather round and watch some Thai soap opera or some other reality show. All people do have the same needs!
The best part of this place was what happened after the sun went down. With limited power and absolutely no ambient light, the heavens stole the show. Lucky for us the moon was rising late in the night and we had about 4 hours of pure star gazing. So much so that the Big Dipper was impossible to find. We would sit quietly and stare while the night animals played their symphony. After a couple hours the moon would rise and we could see the fog rolling down the river. Again something neither of us had ever witnessed. The fog would engulf the river and neighboring mountains and hover until the morning sun burned it off. This scene repeated itself every night.
During our stay in Muang Ngoi we picked up a new friend. Tomer, a.k.a. “The Big Falang”*, hailed from a town just outside Tel Aviv, Israel and was on his way home after 3 years in Sydney. Our posse, now 5 strong, would leave Muang Ngoi and again head north to the town of La Nam Tha in what I am happy to say was an uneventful trip aside from the usual attempts to extort more money out of us in what we have dubbed the “Falang Shakedown”. Little did the Laotians know they were dealing with 2 Jews straight out of India and an Israeli. They really had no chance!
*”Falang” is a term used in Southeast Asia to describe foreigners. It originated during the French occupations and translates to “Frenchy”.
-Alan and Mika
thamks for letting us travel with you!
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