Browsing Tag

Laos

PHOTOS: Bikes around the world

August 7, 2012

My sister has been obsessed with bicycles lately, to the point where she wants to redecorate part of her home with a cycling theme. It’s a really cool idea, especially since she’s so passionate about her own bike.

But I couldn’t stomach the thought of her paying a lot of $$$ for a framed bike photo from World Market or Target — especially when I took thousands of photos of everything around the world. I was positive I had something she could use. And I was right!

Here are just a few of the bikes I encountered on my travels.

 

Lone red bike in a neighborhood in Hoi An, Vietnam.

 

A line of rental bikes in Sukhothai, Thailand, because bikes are THE best way to explore the ancient city’s ruins.

 

It’s like Jem and the Holograms took over this street in Vientiane, Laos. Pink and purple power!

 

A mustard home on a side street in Hue, Vietnam.

 

Pretty bike on a New Orleans street.

 

I love this one the most, even if the bike isn’t the most photogenic, because we are two sisters.

 

This last one I wouldn’t put on any wall in my home. But I still marvel over this man in Mumbai with a seriously impressive stack of eggs. He is the eggman! He is the walrus! Or something.

Bowled over in Laos

June 20, 2011

Laos has this informal curfew that is more of an irritant than a strict law.

I never saw police enforcing the rule. However, all the bars close up shop early. Bartenders tip your bottled beer into a plastic cup and shove you out the door around 11 p.m. Generally everybody is off the streets by midnight.

That’s when the taxi drivers creep up to you on the street corners and whisper, “Bowling alley?”

My friends and I thought it was secret code for “opium den.” And so we jumped into a taxi, of course, headed straight into the unknown.

About 20 minutes later, the taxi screeched to a halt in front of a dark building.

A bowling alley.

Now this is right up my alley.

 

This, it turns out, was the epicenter of Laotian nightlife.

There were two drink selections on the menu. Beer was 20,000 kip for a large bottle — nearly double the price of what you’d pay at a bar during normal hours. But a full liter of Lao whiskey was just 30,000 kip, which is less than $4. Our choice was a no-brainer.

Then my friends Sam, Rose, Nick and I started throwing around gutter balls.

King pin.

 

The funny thing about bowling in Laos is that nobody wears the questionably stylish shoes — which is, in my opinion, half the fun of bowling. We simply shucked our flip flops and skidded around in our bare feet.

Shoes to spare.

 

We stayed out until 2 a.m., though the bowling alley keeps rocking until 4 a.m.

I don’t even remember who won. (Perhaps my mind was curdled from all the whiskey?) But bowling in Lunag Prabang ranks at the top of my list for wacky fun in Southeast Asia — breaking the law, Dude-style.

 

Luang Prabang is fabu-Laos!

June 17, 2011

During this trip, there have been a few places that crept into my bones and became another home. Dahab, Egypt. Kigali, Rwanda. Every bit of Cambodia. India.

Now I can add Luang Prabang, Laos, to that list.

With a strong cafe culture, a distinctive arts scene and a laid-back vibe, the city feels like the New Orleans of Southeast Asia. There’s also water, stunning architecture and food you won’t find anywhere else.

It’s the kind of place where you want to curl up and die — but first you want to crack open a cold beer, sit on a patio and watch the river flow.

It was love at first sight. See for yourself.

 

Tidings of joy

June 15, 2011

Every morning in Luang Prabang, as earliest dawn winks at the navy-hued sky, monks prowl the neighborhood like an orange-clad street gang.

Their alms bowls are slung over bare shoulders, empty vessels waiting to be filled.

On the road, the devout unfurl bamboo mats and squat on their haunches. Vats of sticky rice are ladled into woven containers. Plates of fruit are arranged.

The monks wag their way down the street, a caterpillar made of robes. The air is electric, but silent. I think the birds even stop chirping in a display of respect.

The people fill the alms bowls with fistfuls of warm sticky rice and bananas the size of thumbs. Along the way, others toss in packages of instant noodles, candy, juice.

The Buddhist monks exist because of what is given to them. They live off these alms, eating only until noon each day, eating only the things that end up in their bowl.

If there are no believers on the pavement, the monks go hungry. But day after day after day, they are always sustained.

The daily ceremony is a perfect symbiotic moment. Where giving and receiving are the same. Where offering becomes accepting. Where everything is one.

 

More than words

June 9, 2011

“What is your name?”

“Do you have family?”

“Where are you from?”

“What is the meaning of hodgepodge?”

I was tutoring English students in Luang Prebang as part of the Big Brother Mouse Literacy Program.

The printed word is rare in Laos. Many children are lucky to have textbooks in school. Very few have ever read a book for fun.

Big Brother Mouse began publishing books in 2006 as a way to change that. The not-for-profit organization makes cheap, accessible books and distributes them all over the country. They host book parties, encourage children to read and demonstrate how reading can improve lives.

But that’s not all. Big Brother Mouse also hosts an open classroom for English practice at their Luang Prabang office. Travelers are encouraged to devote a couple hours each day in helping young students practice their conversational skills. And that’s exactly what I did.

I mostly worked with a 14-year-old named Bousou. Every chance he gets, Bousou rides his bike for over an hour to reach Luang Prabang, hoping that native English speakers will be there for mentoring. Sometimes they are, but often there are no volunteers. Still he continues to pedal to the city, desperate for the opportunity to learn.

When I was first introduced to Bousou, he spoke halting, nervous English. As the hours passed, the words warmed like butter and flowed easily.

“How do you say this words?” We leaned over a workbook with English stories. He pointed to a sentence about a dining room.

These words,” I corrected. “That’s dining room.” We sounded it out. I explained what it meant. He mastered it.

He had more difficulty with the word “lizard.” I don’t know why we were talking about lizards.

Our conversation whipped back and forth, covering school, siblings, families, hopes, dreams. Bousou likes animals, but he has no pets. He doesn’t know if he can afford to go to school much longer. When he grows up, he wants to be a policeman. Someday he would like to visit Vietnam, the most exotic place he can imagine.

He asked me what is the best thing about Laos.

“You,” I said.

Learn more about Big Brother Mouse here. http://www.bigbrothermouse.com/