02/13/12: Muang Khua to Muang Ngoi Nuea
| Krast Peaks on the banks of the Nam Ou |
Feeling restless in the darkness before dawn I decided that I wanted to go for a run. I tied on my shoes with more than a little trepidation, owing from the fact that shortly after my last attempt to start working out in Mae Hong Son I had been laid low for nearly two days. No, that had just been some form of food poisoning I reassured myself, but decided that nonetheless I should not overdo it.
The main street of Muang Khua was lit intermittently by florescent bulbs and as I started jogging through the humid night air I soon found myself joined by a stream of women hauling heavy loads tied around their shoulders and heads. Some were carrying fire wood, others banana stalks or water jugs. Regardless I felt a little impish for bounding by them in unburdened recreation while they toiled mightily for their family’s welfare. I was much relieved when the highway left town and I could continue my run free from the gazes of inquisitive eyes.
The humidity was oppressive but the endorphins were delicious. Taking off my shirt and tying it around my head I accelerated down the smooth pavement in the growing light. The whole experience was incredibly liberating and therefore it was with great sadness that I finally reigned in and turned back. I wanted only to just go on running, but after over a month of only sporadic physical activity I knew that running to exhaustion would be a profound mistake.
A shower, a shave, a tomato and onion omelet with fresh green tea overlooking the River, and everything was right with the world. Below the boat landing was still packed with trucks and busses waiting in vain for the completion of repairs to the ferry. Sometime in the night a few enterprising drivers had worked out a plan with their counterpoints across the river and a steady stream of boats now flew back and forth laden with cargo of all sorts and the truckers and passenger busses exchanged their loads and continued back to their ports of embarkation.
I had discovered last night that Muang Khua had a national bank. However, it being Sunday it had been closed. I went there now and much was my relief at being able to exchange dollars (at a very favorable rate fixed by the government for all national backs across all of Laos.) The $150 USD gave me $1,195,000 Kip and better still broad latitude in my travel options as I continued down river. Arriving finally at the boat terminal I tried to round up a group of ten people to hire a private boat southbound for Muang Ngoi Nuea. With a group of ten the fare per person would be the same as on the public ferry, but the seats would be more comfortable, and the possibility of being packed in like sardines averted altogether. However, many people seemed convinced that there might not be another available boat (despite there being nearly 20 of them moored on the beach) and were quick to join the public ferry before it filled up. Discouraged by my lack of success I too purchased a southbound ticket on the public ferry and went down to the water’s edge to wait. The dock master soon announced that he would split the group onto two boats, one for Muang Ngoi Nuea and the other to the more southern port of Nong Khiaw. Pleased that all thirty of us would not be forced to cram into one tiny longboat, I sat back as nearly twenty were packed onto the Nong Khiaw boat. Seeing another boat being pulled up with six padded captain’s chairs I asked the captain hopefully if he was going to Muang Ngoi Nuea. Yes he said and motioned me to climb on board. Thrilled beyond imagining I waded straight out to the boat, not even waiting for it to hit the beach to claim the right front captain’s chair. Seeing that Patrick who had shared a room with me back in Phonsali was waiting for the same boat, I called out to him, emphatically gesturing for him to come claim one for the comfortable sets before they were all taken. As our boat filled, the passengers in the Nong Khiaw boat stared on with unmasked jealousy as the twelve of us bound for Muang Ngoi Nuea were accorded the luxury of ample space and six of us the much yearned for comfort of padded high-backed seats apparently ripped from defunct cars.
Soon we were motoring downstream and from my perch in the shade I watched as the Nam Ou slid by for the second day. In addition to Patrick the seats around me were filled by Ryan, a traveler from, Seattle and his girlfriend Igne from Holland. We chatted amicably about everything and shared our exotic travel fare which aside from the fruit was all packaged in Chinese and thus we were never quite sure what we had purchased until we popped it into our mouths. I sipped from a can of Beer Lao now quite convinced in the infinite superiority of river travel.
This stretch of river supports many more hydropower generators than we saw upstream. They sit far out in the river perched on bamboo rafts or anchored to rocks where the current is strongest looking very much like giant weed whackers. Their propellers spin madly in the water flow sending a trickle of electric current up to the small villages on either side. Though certainly not large enough for refrigeration or a microwave they provide light and charge cellphones in places far removed from all other modern conveniences.
After a few hours of the same cleared hillsides we have seen upriver the scenery made a sudden and dramatic change. Standing up in the gap between the passenger’s roof and the captain’s I stared in awe as the river turned and ran between two huge limestone abutments. The river was by now almost two hundred feet wide but these soaring peaks rose over two thousand feet up into the blue sky dwarfing everything in their shadow. The slopes were festooned with old jungle growth on hillsides too steep to farm. Indeed the hillsides soon became too steep to grow on it would seem as their huge bare faces stretched for hundreds of feet before yielding again to the green carpet of thick jungle growth.
Ryan and Patrick soon joined me in my tiny view point and we shared in the awe of this incredible sight. After about an hour of unsurpassed scenery we landed in Muang Ngoi Nuea. I selected a bungalow with a hammock right above the river and settled in the shade to marvel at the views of towering rock rising out of the water. Though I had essentially done nothing but sit in the boat all day, I was perfectly content to sit in the hammock all afternoon and let my toes wiggle freely in the river breeze as I read my book, stopping every other page to marvel again at the mountains.
I waited until after the sun had set to explore the tiny hamlet, which was nothing more than a simple wat at the end of a single street dotted with a half a dozen shops restaurants and guesthouses. The generator kicked on a 6:30 and ran until 9:30 at which point it was assumed that all reasonable people would be going to bed. After a simple dinner of Lap Ka (a fresh fish noodle salad) I retired to my hammock to watch the stars disappear behind the rocky giants. Despite the luxury of modern conveniences such as electricity and restaurants, the place had a timeless appeal of great natural beauty and unhurried living that made me decide to stay on and relish it. Above all it reminded me of an Alaskan Native story in which First Man and Frist Women after much toil and hardship reach the beautiful shores of Alaska turn and ask each other, “Shall we stay here forever?”
| Mini-hydroelectric generators |
