Here we have the mist of the present ... we are in the incredibly beautiful area known as Nong Kiaw (pronounced key - ow). Limestone karsts rise straight up from the riverbank across from our wonderful guest house and this morning as always they are shrouded in cool mist. By 10:30 it will be hot enough to split rocks but then we will withdraw to our large bamboo sided but luxurious cottage - the last one on the property and 350 steps from early morning coffee. 
I set the stage for you with this beauty but warn you that this story is ugly - an experience we had on our way here from Luang Prabang that showed me how travelers can disconnect from their experiences and become the ugly princesses they really can be. Please don't stop reading because you don't want to read about ugly. There are things that we must know - and even though they hurt we cannot fix them if we hide from them.
Our journey here did not start out auspiciously. We were to be picked up for our mini-van trip between 8:30 and 9:00 am, but the driver did not arrive until 9:10. We then drove around to pick up others although there were some problems and it took an inordinately long time. In fact the driver missed one pick up and had to double back. We also did not know yet that the van we were in was not the van we would travel in. Such frustration.
As we finally headed for the mini-van station to be transferred we were met with an unexplained road block and the driver had to make a detour along with many other vehicles so that we were even longer in the van. It didn't help that one of the passengers was concerned about making a boat connection in Nong Kiaw so took it upon himself to tell the driver how to avoid the road block - a presumption that was not terribly welcome and certainly no help. He was insistent though which added to the stress of the journey.
We made it to the depot but there we had more confusion since there were several mini-vans and we were shunted from one to the other and then in fact were made to wait for a van that was not yet there - this is a popular trip so there were a lot of us heading to Nong Kiaw and beyond. We were the last van to leave - a trip that we expected to take three hours beginning at 9:00 am finally departed the depot at 10:30. We were 10 passengers and a driver and just before we left the driver indicated that the back row would have four people which was taken with some shock and even rudeness from the three young Dutch passengers in that row. In the event, no one else showed up so we were able to depart.
After we got out of Luang Prabang's outskirts the landscape was beautiful. The road was pocked with potholes although I've been on much worse roads and at least the driver did his best to avoid them. At one point we stopped for the driver to buy himself some satay and rice and the older woman in the front seat joked with him about sharing with us. It was good to be moving and we enjoyed the sights out our window as we followed the river road with the beautiful scenery of Laos.
We picked up a passenger along the way - a young Lao man, who sat with the older woman in the front seat, but he travelled with us for only a half hour and then was dropped off. Then we stopped at a site with a beautiful view above a valley where the driver ate his satay and we made use of the facilities (au naturel, lol).
Back on the road we were flagged down again by two locals, a young man and a young woman, and the driver stopped to pick them up. Tnere was still a seat in the front and the other person woold have to sit in the back row And that's when the ugliness took over. The three young people in the back seat refused to move to allow the fourth passenger to sit with them. They yelled at the driver, screamed "No!" repeatedly and insisted that we were full and could not make room for the two new passengers.
The driver did not speak English and could only indicate with his fingers that he wanted four passengers in the back seat. Several of the other young passengers defended their cohort as did the woman in the front seat, insisting that the van was meant to take only 12 people and that by adding these two we would be over limit. They threatened the driver with the police, they sat firm and the young man seated next the door refused to move so that the new passenger could get to the back.
It was a very, very uncomfortable situation, and those of us not part of it remained silent. I sat there with my mind roaring. I knew this was wrong but like most didn't want to be involved. But these people were not only rude, they were callous. They invoked the "I paid 70,000 kip to take this van" mantra and I'm sure their presumption was that the locals would be paying a lot less. They appeared to have forgotten that they were on a scheduled trip, and not in a private van, and in fact I was sure they were also wrong about the numbers - the van was licensed to carry 12 passengers with a driver but they saw only the number 12P that had been painted on the side of the bus and I'm sure their minds told them that the P stood for People - with the two additional people and the driver we would be 13.
I seethed. I have been on many uncomfortable journeys. I've been on a bus in Guatemala built for school children where the passengers are expected to be three to a seat - not built for a big assed Canadian - but since there were no seats I stood with the others that filled the aisle, and had room for only one foot to stand on the floor. Even in Thailand just a month ago I had shared the back row of a mini-van with Geordie, a Burmese woman and her three children. These slim young people were refusing to share their cosy back seat with another slim young man, a local who stood stoically with his wife, no doubt, like the driver, not understanding the language or the threats but in no doubt that these young travelers were obnoxious, rude and representative of all the worst that tourism can offer.
And I could no longer sit idly by. If only I could have been more coherent - when I'm upset and angry I lose my ability to say all the things that are roiling in my head. But I roared at them. My anger was so strong that I couldn't say all the things I wanted - to tell them that they were privileged young kids who were paying more money for this trip than this couple and the driver perhaps made in a month; that they set off looking for adventure but wanted no discomfort, wanted to be shielded from the difficulties faced by the locals, to be cocooned and swaddled and treated like royalty - and not exposed to local life.
All those things were In my head but I could not spit them out. But my roaring was enough to silence them, even though they still refused to move. Instead the young man at the door moved to the front seat and the driver invited the two Lao to sit together on the single seat he had vacated. I rue that I didn't have the language to make this right. I could not tell the Lao people how sorry I was that they could be subjected to such abuse, I could not tell the young people that if they wanted creature comfort they should stay home, I could not even tell the others in the van who did not come to the rescue of these two perplexed young Lao that they too were party to the injustice that was occurring.
And the rest of our journey was no more than an hour. To avoid one hour of discomfort these young louts invoked their right to be kings, to lord it over the people they came to see. And lest you think that this was a macho male thing, one of the young louts in the back row who was as vehement as the others was a young woman and two of the other young men were a gay couple. All of them ganged up on the driver and his fellow countrymen. For the rest of the journey we travelled in silence - but I think the driver got some back. The back seat certainly got a little jouncing when we hit a bump, and the driver appeared to relish the opportunity to take every bump at speed - I didn't look back but I do hope those young peoples' heads hit the ceiling at every bump.
I know I've been unhappy and, yes, ashamedly rude on occasion, when we are travelling. But this offense was beyond rude, beyond comprehension. I only hope that as I continue my travels I do my best to accept the discomfort along with the pleasure. I am not proud of this moment. I did the best my brain allowed to right this wrong but I feel that I could have done better.
This is a beautiful country with quiet people who do not act in anger - they are known to avoid personal conflict and to expect that others too will not flaunt their superiority. They have been through hell during the secret war that was waged on them by the Americans during the "American War" (the one we are used to hearing about as the Vietnam War) but they have welcomed visitors back.
Read this to learn more about the horrors the Lao were subject to during the undeclared war against them. http://legaciesofwar.org/about-laos/secret-war-laos/ And if you don't take time for that, here is the first sentence of that report: "From 1964 to 1973, the U.S. dropped more than two million tons of ordnance on Laos during 580,000 bombing missions—equal to a planeload of bombs every 8 minutes, 24-hours a day, for 9 years – making Laos the most heavily bombed country per capita in history. " And they were not even at war.
I for one am glad to be able to see this beautiful country and meet some of their beautiful people, but I can only hope that they are not subject to the abuse these three Lao people were subject to on our journey here two days ago. This moment is seared on my brain and I can only hope that the Lao forgive us our trespass. I am ashamed.
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