The next day we started on a two day boat journey south along the Mekong. The first night we stopped in Pak Beng, a mandatory rest for all boats on their way to Luang Prabang. The next day, about 2 hours shy of the city we hopped off the boat in the middle of nowhere. We trekked up the steep, sandy beach and entered the village through a canopy of trees. Children started to surround us and followed us through the maze of bamboo houses. We were led to the house we would be sleeping in (Peng's Ma and Pa) and the children stood at the window, watching us move our belongings around. It is hard to say how many people lived in the house. Ma and Pa (proud grandparents) slept upstairs and their son and daughter-in-law lived downstairs with their infant daughter. There may have also been several more children who lived there as children seemed to come and go at will. As the sun began to set we wandered down to the beach, followed by close to a hundred children who ran around us, posing for the camera or just watching us with curious eyes.
On our second day we went across the river to work in Peng's rice fields. What an experience! I had no idea what was involved and it was so interesting to see the process. We planted rice alongside the women of the village while they asked persistently about our husbands, children and lives.
The second night we slept at Peng's house. It was easy to bond with Peng right away. She speaks no English, except for one or two basic sentences. But even when she is speaking to you in Lao at rocket speed you can hear the intention in her voice, the kindness. She laughs often. She says she is 38 but in Lao it is hard to tell exactly how old anyone is. Her documents says she is 35. Right now she is living in a stilted bamboo hut as a single mother. Her husband has run away to live in isolation on the other side of the Mekong. When we talk about him she says only that he is "baw dii" (not good). The night before we left her home the whole family had a baci ceremony for us, tying spirit strings around our wrists for protection on our journey.
(above: Me, Greg, Peng's Aunt, Peng, one of her daughters and Jessica at the baci)
She decided to join us on the boat trip to Luang Prabang. Once in the city she and Greg decided to stay the night so we joined them at her family's home on the Xieng Maen side of the river. The next day we were all getting a little teary at the thought of not seeing her again for who knows how long, so we asked her to come travel with us. And to our surprise she said yes! She and Greg went back to the village that night and returned the next day to plan our travels. We had another baci ceremony with more family in Luang Prabang and then left for Vang Vieng. Here, in the shadow of towering limestone mountains we went tubing down the Nam Song river. We also walked the 6km to the Phu Kham cave and swam in its pristine blue lagoon.
From here we travelled to Vientianne. Peng was amazed at the city, the sights, the people. She had never been further south than Luang Prabang and Vientianne is mammoth compared with Luang Prabang. She rode on an escalator and elavator for the first time. It was surreal to see the wonder in her eyes at every turn. Seeing her off we were all an emotional mess. Greg tried to take a photo of the three of us, Jessica and I with tears streaming down our faces and Peng looking at the ground.
(right: out the window of our hotel in Vientiane)
This post will never be able to do justice to that journey. I am still processing it myself. I know that I made a lifelong friend, even if we never are able to meet again. I hope that is not the case. Until I am on that boat again, gliding down the Mekong I know I will be dreaming of that village.
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