Rolling With the Locals...

Muang Ngoi Neua, Laos

July 16, 2007
N 20°42.573
E 102°40.446

Today was a travel day; we knew it would be a hard one. We had to take a bus four hours to a remote northern village where we would then catch a boat. The boat would take us upstream on the Man Ou River for a little over an hour; ultimately reaching our destination, Muang Ngoi Neua. This is if everything went as planned, and as we know, the best part about a travel day is we usually get a good story, especially when there are buses involved.

When we arrived at the bus station we discovered the “bus” wasn’t really a bus, but a Sawngthaew, a common mode of transportation in Laos. Essentially, a pick-up truck whose bed, a Toyota sized bed not an F-150, had been converted into local transportation. Both sides of the bed are lined with wooden bench seats, about two feet wide, barely fitting my butt. Overhead is a makeshift “roll bar” covered with metal siding to protect the happy customers from the heat and rain. In addition, it may protect the occupants from being tossed into oncoming traffic if the driver loses control and hits one of the many 18” deep pot-holes that plague the “highway”. Additionally, the roof of the “bus” served as a luggage rack; where the happy customer’s luggage is securely tied down.

Fourteen of us, mostly locals, climbed into the bed, staked out our spot on the bench, and got comfortable for the four hour ride. Of the tourists, there was one American from Connecticut and two English girls, one of which looked ready for afternoon tea and crumpets with mum on the veranda. Her freshly applied make-up and cute little jean skirt grabbed more than a few looks from the locals and the Westerners.

A little over an hour into the trip along the serpentine road the UCONN guy made a desperate plea for the driver to pull over—I knew the look. Marc banged on the cab and got the driver to pull over. The guy jumped out the bed of the truck and high tailed it to the bushes where he proceeded to get sick. The guy was kind enough to hide what he had for breakfast to himself. We offered him some Dramamine when he got back in the truck, but he politely declined. I went back to reading my book.

Another hour into the trip I started to get a little headache, this is when we realized the guy across from us was carrying a liter of kerosene in a plastic bottle back to his village. The bottle was leaking and we could tell from the look on his face and his glossy eyes that he was pretty f’d up. We tried to convince him to get rid of the bottle, others were suffering at this point, but his family was dependent upon him—he couldn’t just toss it. Marc banged on the cab again for the driver to pull over—we at least wanted to put the stuff on the roof—but the driver told him to cover it in a plastic bag. It was a good thing we had natural air conditioning or all of us would have either had a gas high, or have been dead.

After huffing kerosene for four hours and taking a severe ass-whooping from the potholes we finally made it to Nong Khiaw; the village where we had to catch the boat. We now had a few hours to kill before the boat departed at 2:00 PM. We spent the time sitting on a restaurant patio that overlooked the river. We watched the local kids, with their baskets of soap, headed down to the Nam Ou for their daily bath. The younger kids would strip down, the older ones would leave on some clothes, jump into the water to get wet, climb back out to lather up, and then jump in again to rinse off. A few of the kids weren’t more than four, jumping into the Nam Ou without a life guard, or parent, in sight.

After the “bus” ride we were actually looking forward to a tranquil cruise up the Nam Ou. However, when we finally boarded the boat we realized we may be in for another adventure. The vessel was 3 feet wide and probably 20 feet long. It had a roof, but not much of a bottom, as the water splashed, our clothes got a little wet from underneath.

The boat, like the bus, had two long, hard wooden benches for people to sit. We had to sit off center to prevent from bumping knees with the person sitting across from us. The boat was fully loaded with 18-20 people, plus luggage. The boarding process was the normal chaos we have grown accustomed to from our travels in South America and now into South East Asia; just sit back relax, watch and laugh. There was a slight delay when two of the locals wouldn’t get on the boat. The lady, baby in tow, kept yelling at someone. We weren’t sure what was upsetting her, but she definitely was mad about something. When her husband and his buddy, or possibly father, got on the boat we realized what was upsetting the lady.

I could instantly tell both of the men were three sheets to the wind. They stumbled onto the boat as jolly as can be. The younger guy was resting his arm on the tourist next to him as he leaned over to argue with his wife. The other man fell down and sprawled out on a small open patch of deck near the driver.

Fifteen minutes into the trip, the older guy next to the driver, who must have been in his 60s, decided to lie down and try to sleep. We would tell the dreaded Spins had set in and he was in trouble. Sure enough, less than a minute later, he was pulling himself back up and over the side of the boat. His friend, directly across from Marc and I, was laughing at his buddy hurl his lunch and Lao Lao (rice wine) into the river and then asked the driver for a cigarette.

It was probably another twenty minutes into the trip when the guy across from us, probably done in by the smoke, was over the edge puking. Lucky for us, he was on the opposite side of the boat, and didn’t have to worry about the wind catching the remnants of the Lao Lao and bringing the chunks back into the boat.

After a few more minutes the young guy realized his buddy looked very comfortable and crawled to the front of the boat and passed out on his friend. The site of them curled-up and snuggling gave all of the tourists a good laugh. The two of them, were out-cold at 2:30 PM on a Monday afternoon and actually were still on the boat after everyone got their stuff and left, including the young guys wife and baby. I think it was a good lesson for everyone on the boat… stay away from the Lao Lao!