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n Laos

Jim Sullivan encounters life on one of theworlds most famous rivers, the mighty Mekong.

The Riverof Life

Ater several days o heavy rain, the tumescent Me-

kong hurries south through Luang Prabang, known

as LP, in Laos, urgent, charged with mission and pur-

pose. Small skis sprint downstream at an unnatural

gait while the cross-river boats are obliged to work acute angles

against a current that the boats captain estimates at 4km/hr

but is clearly aster, judging rom the pace o vegetation moving

over the surace.

Were headed upriver, 35km rom the Unesco-recognised

temple town. The surrounding peaks shred the low cloud cover,

opening breaks that promise better weather. There is so much

uctuation in the level o the amed Mekong River, that its wa-

ters claimed another 20 metres o bank during the night.

Im travelling with Jean-matthieu Beroujon, assistant opera-

tions manager or Villa Maly, a ormer royal residence turned

boutique hotel, and Kamu Lodge, and eco-hotel located up the

river rom LP. Also with us is Antoine Martin, another French-

man who manages the Kamu Lodge. Antoine wears a bankers

striped pants, ip ops and a ready smile under prominent eye-

brows as thick as his lips. Were cruising upstream in the Nava

Mekong, a 45m steel-hulled long boat decked in mahogany

and teak. Mahogany in the oor and the teak on the roo. The

teak is much lighter.

The hills suggest abundant wildlie but here, near the rivers

edge, the charismatic ora has ed or deeper sanctuaries.

Four or fve hours rom the river, according to Moua Lee, a

guide or Kamu Lodge, there are wild pigs and monkeys. The

wild elephants endure near the Thai border, and in the south.

There is still a tiger population, but its ar rom people. No oneknows exactly.

Lee, who is o the indigenous Hmong tribe, talks to people

rom LP to Kamu, explaining all the way. He talks about the

villages and the amed Pak Ou Caves. In rainy season, the

locals harvest long beans and cucumbers, squash and Chinese

cabbage, carrying the crops rom their small felds on the steep

anks o the hills to little splinters o boats, and then on to

market in LP.

Antoine came to Laos on holiday, and liked it so much he

decided to stay. Hed had a riend whod been here and stories

rom his riend were impetus or his own trip. His riend raved

about the Lao people, and the dierent style o lie. I had to

try, he conesses. He lived two months with a Lao amily who

did not speak English, and quickly he acquired their language.

He now also speaks English and Kamu.

You have to like the quiet lie i you stay at Kamu Lodge,

said J-m. Hes brought a book to read at the Lodge. For years

as a hotelier in other places, hed abandoned reading but at

Kamu there is the desire to dig in again.

At Ban Dan village, the Nava Mekong moors at the bank,

and we climb a path that looks like reormed chocolate ater

melting. This is a Lao village o 300 people. We visit a Buddhist

temple where an interior mural tells the story o good people

and bad, o a mortal man who captures a heavenly woman and

binds himsel to her until she escapes. The mural was painted

by a man rom LP 20 years ago and has been touched up ever

since. Next door to the temple, two villagers saw through wood

by hand, laboring 40 minutes on each plank that will later go

into the building o a boat.

At frst light the next morning, plans to bypass urther villageschange and I soon fnd mysel on route to a Hmong Village.

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The woman who opens the temple or us marks the visit o our par-

ty, noting there was one new guest. At the end o the year, they invoice

the Kamu Lodge owners, 5,000 kip (60) or each guest. At the Kamu

village beside the Lodge, its 10,000 kip per guest. The village earnsabout US$3,000 per year. Families oten buy pigs rom the proceeds.

We pass Kings Island, once the province o the King o LP. The king

picnicked here, and at the New Year, they would travel to the Pak Ou

Caves, stopping or lunch at the island. A regal pavilion has now been

replaced with a solitary building, a sala used to hosts tourists. Usually,

the Kamu Journee stops here.

A turquoise bird ies low over the water, the color like a surprise,

and lands in a stand o reeds in the shallows, itting rom stalk to

stalk. The clouds continue to shred as we motor upstream, opening

up larger patches o blue and lending drama to the low hilltops, which

retain their halos o cloud cover.

Small skis moored to a steep bank evince men whove come out

this day to arm a feld cleared in the jungle above, or o a gatherer

whos hunting or bamboo shoots in the rainy season.

On the east bank, vines hang rom towering fgs, nearly to the water

but not quite. A manic buttery hurries past, moving upstream twice as

ast as the boat. Freshets burst rom the oliage, emptying into the river

at last. From a limestone blu droplets o water rain into the river. Here

and there, a moored ski and a stairway up rom the river. The river

is deep, 50 meters in places, according to one o the boatmen, and

as shallow as 15-20m elsewhere. Another cell tower pokes up rom a

hilltop.

At Hoiy Khae, a Hmong village on the west bank, 42 amilies lives in

dirt-oored homes made o thatch and bamboo. They are an animist

people who rely on shamans or their spiritual welare. They dont keep

a temple. They arm rice, corn, sesame and herbs.

An impromptu markets sets up on our arrival, and two villagers

spread their wares o hats and embroideries on blankets. We visit one

house here, inhabited by 15 people, the house perhaps 10m long and

4m wide. A cooking fre heats a pot in one corner. An older woman

prepares vegetables against one wall.

Along the river, teak trees stand near villages, too valuable to exist

as wayward wild trees, but planted and cultivated, and blooming now

with pale yellow owers clustered among the overly big leaves.

At Kamu Lodge, our pilot steers the boat against a sand bank,and we climb the embankment, explorer-ashion, ollowed by porters

and greeted by a line o villagers, clasping their palms in welcome. A

woman presents me with a ower tucked in a small cone o a banana

lea.

At the Kamu village o Yoi Hai, 84 amilies live by the river, most o

them resettled here in 2000 ater the government decided that the

Kamu, who typically dwell in the mid highlands, should come down

to the lowlands. Until then, it had been a Lao village, and six amilies

chose to remain. They keep a temple, where a monk and two novices

practice their methods.

Twenty six o the Yoi Hai villagers work at Lodge, but everyone else

lives by dint o the land, arming, gathering, hunting, fshing. They used

to hunt with crossbows, fring poisoned arrows at small game in the

area. But now the crossbows are only or un.

We try some o the un at a shooting range at the Lodge, trying or a

papaya on a post. None o us manages the target, but we do manage

to plant some rice later in the Lodges paddies. We dont catch any

fsh, but we try our hands and arms on a circular net weighted around

the perimeter by a light chain. Its not difcult to get the hang o it. You

gather up the net, drape some o it over your orearm, hold the rig in a

couple o places and then you swing your body and arc the works into

the shallows.

The weather today has been ftul, raining at breakast, tapering o,

then breaking up some. We had some light rain coming up the river,

and then lots o blue sky and hot sun. The aternoons heat gives way

to cloud cover in later aternoon, some thunder and light rain now as

we near 6pm.

Our journey, this day anyway, is done.

Villa Maya: www.villa-maly.com

Kamu Lodge: www.kamulodge.com

n Laos

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