Checkpoint Nowhere

Cambodia

This has got to be the most deserted, God-forsaken border check point on this trip. A truck took me and a bunch of people from Ban Nakasang near the 4000 Islands to the border. I had booked a trip all the way through to Kratie in Cambodia.
"Book all the way", the ticket seller at the travel shop/book shop/internet cafe on Don Det had said. "At the border it will be very difficult to find a car."
I had thought it was a sales trick. Even on the Laos side of the Chinese border checkpoint there had been a number of tuktuks waiting. Only the general consensus of several travellers made me agree to buy the ticket.
Turns out it hadn't been a trick. The place where the truck dropped us off at around mid-day was in the middle of the jungle or some kind of plantation. There was the road, a house and a booth on the Laos side, a house and a desk on the Cambodian side and a barrier across the road. That was the whole setup. There were no other vehicles - no bus, no tuktuk, not even a bicycle. After unloading our backpacks the Laos truck also took off. For some absurd reason I had assumed we'd go on in that truck. Now that he was gone it was beginning to sink in that there was only one way to go now, so this prior arrangement had better work.
The checkpoint officer greeted us and made us fill in the usual paperwork. Please hand in your filled-in forms and one US dollar. Of course, we all knew where that was going. It was a common story among backpackers. Still, I couldn't help myself.
What was the dollar for, I asked him. He even had small change.
"Office fee", came the smooth reply. You had to hand it to him, he was prepared. You don't pay, you don't get the stamp, so you can't leave the country. Besides, it's not something you want to argue about in the middle of nowhere like here.
Smiling Laos border guards bade us farewell.
The procedure on the Cambodian side was similar. Here, the "office fee" had just been factored into the exchange rate. The visa fee is 30 US dollars. Could we pay in Kip and use up our remaining change? Sure, but at the border the rate is not 8000-something to the dollar but a round 10,000. Sigh. We had no more use for the wad of notes anyway. In Cambodia it'll be easier to calculate again, numbers are not so huge.
Eventually, even the little minivan arrived roughly as arranged (just the promised air-con meant opening the windows). And after waiting a long time for a local guy who appeared from the bushes, dropped some exceedingly heavy sacks (sand?) in the back and sat on the roof for most of the trip we were on our way.

Ants!

Pakse, Laos

Today I'm upset. Really upset. Even though it's probably my own fault. My own stupidity. I've just arrived here. Got myself a hotel room and went out to have a look around, eat something, get myself some wheels.
Now I've just come back from my great ride. I can't even remember what I wanted to get from my small backpack. I just noticed it looked like its surface was moving. It was ants. All over my backpack. There must have been thousands! They had formed a regular road to a tiny hole somewhere in the wall. Even the floor all around my bag was crawling with them. Then I remembered I had left half a pomelo in the bag. They had smelt it and were swarming in to get some. I checked inside and rummaged. And was promptly bitten. Painfully so! They had got inside, too! The first thing on top was the necklace that Iris had bought for me at the Dai Minority Park the first time we went out together. The plastic bag I had put it in was covered in ants, too. I ran downstairs and got one of the staff to come up with some insect killer. Fortunately, they had a can left. He sprayed everything that moved for a long time. It seemed like he was almost emptying the can. I watched them die. "Don't leave fruit around", he advised helpfully. Thanks but I was not in the mood for advice. I was in the mood to complain about them having an insect problem in their damn hotel.
I started cleaning my backpack - one item at a time - cursing all the while. How could I have been so stupid? And still I kept getting bitten by more ants. They were far from dead. The worst thing was still come: They had not only eaten holes into the pomelo, they had found a way into the plastic bag and had chewed on Iris's gift. It was made of nuts but I had thought they were empty shells. Obviously they weren't. I took it out of its bag and it fell apart in my hands. The ants had eaten into the nuts and chewed through the string, as well. My only physical memory of Iris was ruined. I remembered the day she gave it to me. It said 西双版纳 on one of the shells. I could have cried. I couldn't even find all of the little plastic beads that were space holders between the nuts.
I went on brushing off every item that had been in my bag. I would still find more and more ants that had survived the poison. So, I killed them myself. In the end, when I had taken everything out, I rinsed the bag in the shower - only to find out that the damn little bastards could swim. I could see them paddle around on the floor of the shower! At least, I managed to flush all of them out of my bag this way. Then, when most ants had either died of the poison, me squashing them or had gone away I started putting together the pieces of Iris's souvenir. I'm still so upset. In the end, I managed to clean it, too, of ants. They kept coming crawling out of the nuts and disappearing into them again. The only way will be to keep it and take it home. Since I still have the beads and the nut shells are mostly intact I should be able to thread them on a new string. I hope it works. At least there's that hope to comfort me. I'll take a photo to document what it looks like.
When I finished cleaning and hung up my bag to dry (at least that shouldn't take long as hot as it is here) I realised I had spent almost three hours with this. It was dark outside. So, it's time for dinner. At least, that should lift my spirits a bit.

An Inconvenient Truth

Laos, Vientiane

Not to worry - this won't become a pseudo-political rant. It's more an embarrassing truth about myself that I've come to realise today.
In the street in Vientiane two old local gentlemen, seeing that I'm a foreigner, began talking to me. They didn't use English, Lao or maybe Chinese but French. I guess that's not entirely surprising since Laos used to be French protectorate until only fairly recently being granted full sovereignty in 1953. So, while young people now furiously learn English (even in tiny villages I found people that spoke some English) old people often speak French. No, what took me by surprise was that I found that I could understand what they were saying but was unable to respond. It took a long while before I managed to utter a simple sentence like, "I'm not French, I'm German." The first thing that automatically came to mind was actually the Chinese equivalent. Force of habit after being in China for a year, I guess, but I think certain family members will not be entirely happy reading this, not after we spent years practicing French for school. Hehe...
Truth be told, French was a choice that my school and German education system made for me. I know it's an important language globally and all but I've never enjoyed it all that much. Chinese is now the language I've chosen to learn. I've loved learning, Chinese is a beautiful, intriguing language and I'm keen to carry on when I get back home. There, I've said it although I'm sure I haven't heard the end of it yet...

Highway to Hell / Luang Prabang

Luang Prabang, Laos

I know I've been spoilt. Spoilt by efficient, fast and convenient public transport in China. How do I know this? Because transport in Laos is different. For starters I was used to saving lots of time by taking over-night trains and buses. Here, I has to find out, there are only day-time buses that take a lot of time. But now I also know why this is.
I had already got a taster just after leaving China. Just after the border my tuk tuk stopped and we got out. The hill side next to the round had come down in a mudslide and blocked the road. Drivers in both directions had left their vehicles and were inspecting the state of affairs. But what might have major distress in other countries was taken in with great ease here. Nothing to be done. We have to wait. Fortunately, then we'd been near other settlements and a tuk tuk driver on the opposite side was willing to split with mine and take me further. With a bus this is a different story. I won't even go into detail about the several places where the road had been washed away leaving only a big gaping hole in the asphalt and a 20-meter drop. The first major obstacle we hit was another mudslide. The road was completely blocked. It had happened in a village and several houses had also been buried. It looked fresh, scary and the remaining hill side unstable. Fortunately for us a digger was already on the scene clearing the road. A few hundred kilometers and millions of potholes and stomach bending curves later it had got dark. We stopped. Lots of trucks and other vehicles were standing on the road not moving. Drivers and passengers had got out, looked like they were preparing to camp here. What was the matter? I went to check for myself. The road, it turned out, was flooded almost waist-deep. Small cars and motorcycles had no chance here. I was getting worried. We didn't know how far it was still to Luang Prabang and this looked difficult. I really didn't want to spend the night on the bus. Finally, after long consideration the driver told people to take their things out of the luggage compartments at the bottom of the bus, moving them into the bus. We were going in. Slowly the bus moved into the water. We were amphibious. The water came up almost halfway up the side of the vehicle. Please, I prayed, let's not get stuck here now. Finally, the water became lower and we emerged. The engine hadn't drowned, we hadn't got stuck. My prayers had been answered. After a total of nine (instead of seven or six) gruelling hours we arrived in Luang Prabang only to find guesthouses full because of bad weather. But at least there was the chance of a bed and a shower.
One poor girl on the bus even had a harder time than everyone else. I had thought locals were tough and could take the roads. Not so. She kept throwing up during the whole trip. Again and again. During breaks she looked really miserable. I pitied her. Motion sickness medicine which is common in China now hasn't arrived here yet. Poor thing. I hope she doesn't have to do it again soon.
Roads here sure are an adventure.

Introduction to Laos - The Good and the Bad

Laos, Luang Nam Tha

It's a culture shock again. I'm not entirely used to it anymore. I've been in China for so long that I take it for granted that people speak Chinese, signs are in Chinese, I know what to order in a restaurant and there are cheap Internet bars everywhere. Now this is Laos. Things work a bit differently here. There's a new language barrier and culturally I have new things to get used to and enjoy.
One thing happened while I was cycling around Luang Nam Tha today. This here is truly countryside, something you hardly get in China because of the huge population. I came past many small villages when while approaching one called Thongwa I heard loud music. I went to investigate and found there was some kind of celebration going on. A young man who spoke some English (he was learning English at the high school in Luang Nam Tha) invited me to the table where he and his friends were sitting. What was going on? A party. He couldn't explain further. It looked like the whole village was attending. Long tables were loaded with food, music was blaring and someone was singing, people were dancing and everyone shared small shot glasses of rice liquor. Actually, that seemed to be the main event: Someone would always come round with a bottle and a glass, fill the glass and hand it to the next person who then had to down the contents. Then the cup went to the next person. I found out quickly that refusing was useless. You sit, you drink. And it was strong stuff! Fortunately, there was still food to eat and soak up some of the alcohol. The food might have got less but there always seemed to be more alcohol. I'm not sure how long I stayed but people were getting seriously drunk. How long will this go on, I asked. Until evening, sometimes until the next day. Wow! People here are hardcore! In the end it got too much. Despite (or maybe because of) hospitality I feared I would not find my way back if I stayed any longer. My head actually hurts a bit as I write this. So, I excused myself and started my way back. A slogan from a popular poster at my university dorm comes to mind: Until death do us party.
On the way back I encountered the less attractive side of Laos. I encountered an older man on the road who said something to me. I didn;t understand but thought it was rude to just ignore him and ride on. I stopped and realised he had said "money". I said no. He had alreadu come up close and spotted the bulge in my shorts where my wallet is. He actually proceded to try and open the pocket. I stopped him but he just went on trying to push my hands out of the way. I shouted at him getting angry now. At the same time I started pedalling. Realised he was not getting my wallet he grabbed my crotch as I left and chuckled. I'm not sure what that was supposed to achieve. The mind boggles. I swore at him in Chinese.
Sadly I was wrong to mistrust the guys at the party but also wrong to trust an old man in the street. Of course, a certain caution is always needed but it's always also disappointing when you find out why. I hope to see much more of the good sides of Laos as I go.

Goodbye to China

Mengla, China

I've known it all the time: The day would come that I'd have to leave China. Now that the day has arrived I wish I could still put it off. I leave behind love, many new friends, memories, a country that I've got very attached to. I planned on spending half a year here, just to study and travel and ended up staying almost one full one. Maybe I've wasted some time. Maybe I could have done my travels, my studies in a much shorter time but I'm sure that given a second shot I'd do it all again. This country has become something like a new home.
Surely, it's not all perfect - I've discovered good and bad things about China. People can be very nice to foreigners but may also try to cheat you because you're a foreigner. And at some point you do get tired of random people shouting "Hello!" after you while you try to navigate traffic. Girls may be attracted to you but that may only be because foreigners tend to have money (note that I said "may"). Some people have habits that can put a foreigner off - spitting, jumping queues, jaywalking. Then again, you can't expect to travel half-way around the globe and find that things are the same as at home. Things are changing rapidly. That's what makes China both annoying and exciting. Annoying because of constant construction works but exciting because you see things happening (especially before the Olympics). And what may look like complete chaos at first glace actually follows it's very own set of rules. Once I got used to that I've actually felt quite safe - safer for sure than in some other countries. Then, of course, there's the food: The Chinese are proud of it and with good reason. If anywhere it's possible here to eat cheaply but still well. That's one thing I'll miss for sure.
So, what remains for me now is just this elegy for my stay. It's been an amazing adventure - in many ways. I'm glad, happy, thankful I've had this chance, this opportunity. I'd like to thank all the amazing people that have made my stay so memorable - I won't list names (there would be too many anyway) but you know who you are. Thank you! I'll miss you all! I wish you all the very best. I will be back, though I don't know yet when.

Love and Marriage

Jinghong, China

I'm married. Surprised? It actually came as quite a surprise to me, as well. It was fairly unexpected. Now before certain friends and family members have a heart attack, bang their heads against various pieces of furniture and start writing frantic emails questioning my sanity let me clarify a few things:
It's not at all how it seems. It's not actually for real. But it was a nice surprise. The girl, Iris, is a very lovely person. I met her here in Jinghong, just walking past in the street, saying hello. We started talking and liked each other. She's the reason I ended up staying a lot longer than I originally intended. One day we went to a minority village near here and were picked among other tourists for a ceremony they were performing. We didn't even know the purpose of the ceremony because nobody spoke Mandarin with us. There was a lot of hooting and dancing. We were each given a cup of some strong rice liquor. Then among more hooting led to another hut where we were given another cup of the same liquor. Then the young man that seemed to play the role of the village chief tied a red ribbon around our right wrists. Only now a Chinese speaking guide explained that we were now married and were not supposed to take the ribbon off anymore. It had all happened so fast it took a moment to sink in. Then we were escorted to a bed a huddled together among loud cheers.
The funny thing is that even though all this was just for show it feels real. She's a wonderful girl and I'm happy I can share this memory with her. It's very sad that I can't stay. We both know that. Maybe that makes us try to enjoy every moment. We got together after only knowing each other a day, got married five days later. A few days later I'll have to go and we don't know what the future will bring. But one thing is for sure - the red ribbon will stay with me. Whatever the future may bring, whatever God may have in store for us, I won't forget you, Iris.

Pride and Prejudice

Jinghong, China

This entry is backdated. I was in no shape at the time to write this.
Iris had told me a friend of hers wanted to invite us for dinner. He belongs to one of the local ethnic minorities. Part of the village is actually a minor tourist attraction where you can learn about the minority and their customs. The friend would give us a tour and treat us to a local dinner.
Now I don't even know why I was in a bad mood nor when it started. I just remember I was there and I wasn't happy. The thing is I was treated very politely. Iris's friend offered us tea while we sat down to chat. At the same time there was nothing for me to do while Iris and her friend talked about school and other friends I didn't know. Sometimes they would use the local dialect which I couldn't follow. It could well have been my ego acting up. You get used to being the center of attention here, so much that you come to expect it and get disappointed if people ignore you. I'm sure I've mentioned that before, so I don't want to exclude that possibility. At the same time I didn't like the way the other guys were smiling at me. They were showing off their skills, working hard, expertly cutting up various vegetables with big knives. Iris was praising their work. I felt I had nothing to compete with them for her attention. So, it may well also have started with jealousy.
Her friend gave us the promised tour. His wife joined us. They took turns telling us about the village while we walked around the traditional stilt buildings. This was the touristy section of the settlement. Unfortunately, the music and dance performances were already over for the day. There was only one other small group of Chinese tourists with their guide. It was in the main house here that Iris and I got caught up in the ceremony that left us officially married. For a short while I got carried away and forgot about my misgivings.
They soon flared up again. Worse than before. I almost felt something like hostility towards Iris's friends, even though they had spent the last hour or two cooking up a feast of a dinner for us. Something inside me was ranting that they were trying to make a point, prove something. Maybe it wasn't all groundless. In China (more so than in Europe, I think) there is a certain status gain associated with being the host. Men literally squabble over who picks up the bill at the restaurant. The one who pays gains kudos. The guest is treated very politely, like the king of the round table, but in a sense it is to a certain extent at his expense that the host looks good. I had been in the situation before and didn't like this kind of social game. It still makes me feel belittled in a way that's hard to put into words. Perhaps I'm also frustrated because I still can't play along since I'm not used to it and don't understand the social mechanics fully. So I got myself worked up into a virtual fury. In the end Iris noticed something was wrong but it was too late.
We had dinner. The plates covered the whole table. There were various meats and vegetables, all highly spiced. The highlight was a cooked animal that one of Iris's friends had shot in the forest. I noticed small hand-like paws but everyone denied it was a monkey. This leads me to believe it must have been some kind of lizard. It was quite tasty. Then came the alcohol and it marked the beginning of the end. They had beer and some home-made rice liquor in an unmarked plastic bottle. This was my moment to shine! We Germans can take alcohol. They offered me beer. I almost hated them for it. The girls drank beer! I drink what you drink. No, I don't want less than you. 干杯！ We knocked the glasses back. Their home-made brew ran through my system like liquid fire. Not only that it was very strong but it was spicy hot like the local dark red chillies. I have never tasted anything comparable. It was vile. Soon our host poured another cup. 干杯！ Down went the next cup. The sensation wasn't any better. It was still vile. But I couldn't back down. Soon after this my memory starts getting a bit hazy. I don't remember how many cups of this literal firewater followed. I do remember that my stomach felt worse after every cup, every mouthful even. I drank more slowly now but tried to keep up. I remember the guys laughing, having fun - who knows at what. I remember Iris's worried look. She tried to stop me but initially I just brushed her aside. Did she think I couldn't take it? That I wasn't as much a man as they were? She was only drinking beer but was also getting tipsy I think. Eventually, I followed her advice but switched to beer (I think). It was dark already. I don't recall how long this went on. I remember one of Iris's friends (who presumably hadn't been drinking) loaded us in his car to take us back to Jinghong. I remember snippets of looking at the ceiling of a dark car moving through the night, saying something about feeling better or not being drunk. I must have passed out. The next conscious memory is me leaning out of the car door, almost painfully vomiting into the gutter of a paved, well-lit street. The horrible stuff still felt spicy, burning in my throat as I spit it out. It felt like the retching would never stop. Somehow, the driver must have dropped us off. I remember making it to the bathroom of my hotel room just in time before I threw up again - all over the floor this time. I had to steady myself on the sink. After another eternity, when the nausea subsided, I finally felt a bit better. Even my head had cleared a little - enough to give me the presence of mind to flush the bathroom floor and clean up the mess (God bless the Chinese for having bathrooms where you can do that).
I woke up some time during the day feeling literally like shit and hating myself. I've rarely ever felt so miserable. My head felt like it was twice the size, there was a taste in my mouth as if something had died in it, all sounds were muffled as if they passed through cotton wool and I had no appetite whatsoever. And I was probably lucky that I had thrown everything up. Imagine this shit still being in my system! Nonetheless, for an entire day I wanted to die quietly in a corner. Iris kept me company but I don't think it was much fun. I was angry that I had let myself go like that and frustrated that I was wasting an entire day for this reason.
The final insult came when Iris confessed that our "kind" driver from last night had actually made her an indecent proposal. "After your friend has left how about we have a few drinks together and you come to my place?" Something like that he had said. Even while I was still in the car with them! I was angry again. Some fine friends she had! Invitation or no, I seriously don't want to meet any more of them.
And I'm never touching alcohol again.

How I met Iris

Jinghong, China

How likely do you think is it to walk into somebody in the street and just become friends? Not a fellow backpacker, not anyone you pay for a service but just a random person.
I was walking outside Manting Park in Jinghong thinking about whether it would be worth paying for the ticket to go in.
Out comes a girl struggling with two small dogs on a leash. I smile at the way they pull her forward barking wildly. It seems more like they are walking her than the other way around. She notices my smile, smiles back and says: "Hello." I say "hello" back and then: "Do you need help?" She actually stops and we chat about her dogs. In the end, we walk a bit together and I take the leash for her. I realise the dogs are really strong and want to go everywhere - at the same time. We talk and walk around town. She shows me the church she goes to - she's a Christian. She teaches at a school nearby but she's free because of summer holidays. I end up having dinner with her and two of her friends. And just before that we make plans for visiting a Dai Minority Park together tomorrow.
This trip keeps surprising me.

Making an Impact

Jinghong, China

I've always wondered how many of the English translations in China get written. Yesterday, I had the unique chance to be part of that process.
It was quite surprising actually. And tiring considering that I haven't done a day's work for a while. Hehe.
It all started innocently when I mentioned to the girl at the reception of my guesthouse here that their sign at the roadside and at the door (the guesthouse is in a backyard) are not the same. One reads "Dai Building Inn", the other "Dai Garden Building". According to the Lonely Planet (another time that it proved less than useful) I was looking for a guesthouse named the former but couldn't find it because the sign at the road was different (and hung way to high and out of sight). So I mentioned the signs were different. I was taken aback by the question: "What should it say then?" Well, considering the Chinese “傣家花苑小楼” (literally: Dai Family Flower Garden Small Building) I said that the name next to the road was the correct translation. Oh, she reacted, but the other sign was also told us by a foreigner. Well, not every foreigner that may speak some Chinese can also speak proper English. I was even more surprised that she and her husband (?) immediately went about changing the erroneous text on the inner sign. They kept coming back to me asking how to spread out the English words and where to put which word. It turned out that it worked out too long for their sign, so me and my Australian room mate started thinking about how to say it. In the end, we came up with "Dai Garden Lodge" which seems to fit the meaning and the sign and also, we agreed, sounds nice. They eagerly wrote everything down and disappeared.
Later, my room mate wanted to buy a boat ticket (it is possible to take a boat from here along the Mekong River to Thailand). When the staff at the ticket counter realised I spoke Chinese and English they quickly conjured up a notice sign about procedures at their port, written in Chinese on one side and English on the other. Could we have a look at the English side, please, and check it for mistakes. We looked. We looked again. The heading was something like "The beard to the tourist to know". We both do have beards but what did that have to do with anything. It went on in this style. Chinglish. I'm sorry to say that we couldn't help but laugh. Most of it was almost incomprehensible. The girls looked at us embarrassed. Could we try to help them work out a better translation? It looked like a lot of work. Now? Here? Err ... we were about to wind our way out of the situation when fate came to their aid. It started pouring down. A literal rain storm. Hmm... might as well do a good deed. I do hate to see Chinese at the butt end of international jokes because of bad English translations. "And they say that a hero could save us..." We dug into the forest of grammatical anomalies and unknown Chinese characters and only emerged hours later. We wiped the sweat off our foreheads. Now the heading says "Notice to the Traveler". I won't guarantee that any of it will hold up legally in English but now it's understandable. It's actually English. We were rewarded with a huge dinner and Dai performance. And some seriously strong local firewater.
When we got back to the guesthouse late in the evening the sign on the inner door read "Welcome to Dai Garden Lodge".
Talk about making an impact.