The calm that is Buddhism...

The greatest achievement is selflessness.
The greatest worth is self-mastery.
The greatest quality is seeking to serve others.
The greatest precept is continual awareness.
The greatest medicine is the emptiness of everything.
The greatest action is not conforming with the world's ways.
The greatest magic is transmuting the passions.
The greatest generosity is non-attachment.
The greatest goodness is a peaceful mind.
The greatest patience is humility.
The greatest effort is not concerned with results.
The greatest meditation is a mind that lets go.
The greatest wisdom is seeing through appearances.
AtishaWe are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make our world.

The mind is everything. What you think you become.

Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.
Pay no attention to the faults of others,
things done or left undone by others.
Consider only what by oneself is done or left undone.
All know the Way, but few actually walk it. Bodhidharma

The Four Reliances
First, rely on the spirit and meaning of the teachings, not on the words;
Second, rely on the teachings, not on the personality of the teacher;
Third, rely on real wisdom, not superficial interpretation;
And fourth, rely on the essence of your pure Wisdom Mind, not on judgmental perceptions.
You only lose what you cling to.
Your worst enemy cannot harm you as much
as your own unguarded thoughts. - The Buddha

Words have the power to both destroy and heal. When words are both true and kind, they can change our world.

Kayakking

On the third day of our trek, we were all happy not to have to walk a step further. We exchanged our hiking boots for buoyancy aids, helmets and paddles and prepared for an exciting day of kayakking through the rapids of the Mekong River!

Of course, Chris and I were the people whose kayak flipped. Khit, our guide, immediately did a superhero dive into the water to help us right the kayak before we slammed into the rocks. Exciting times! It didn't matter much that we were wet through afterwards because less than ten minutes after our flip, the heavens opened and it continued to rain for the rest of the day. We couldn't believe it! What a change in the weather from the heat of the previous two days when we were trekking up the mountains, showering in our own perspiration! Just goes to show that the beginning of the dry season could still be tormented with huge rain storms.

We were both relieved and sad when we finally returned to Luang Prabang after kayakking. Khit and Jin arranged to meet us all that evening and took us to a local club for a dance where there was a live band playing. This was apparently the first time they'd taken farang with them to a club and it meant a lot to all of us that they wanted to show us this part of their culture. I must admit, it was strange to be in a club in this small, innocent town. Jin told us of the difficulty for them now to find a wife - firstly, they're no longer under 20. Secondly, they've been exposed to the ways of farang, so a traditional village marriage doesn't appeal to them anymore. He explained how there's only a limited number of women in Luang Prabang who would 'understand' them - those who work first hand with farang, I presume, and who have also been exposed to 'the West'. Strange times for these young men who grew up in tiny villages without access to what we might call the 'modern world' but who now spend all of their days taking tourists round and explaining their culture to those from Europe, America and Australia who in turn, teach them about their ways...

Videos taken during our trek

Blistered feet and tired bodies...

The village that hosted us on our first night

An early start the next morning brought our group to reflecting around the breakfast table about what our second day might bring.

We were all exhausted after just one day of trekking and I think it's fair to say that every one of us was a little anxious about what the second day would bring. After a breakfast of omelette, our morning's hike began with the steepest and most painful ascent ever. The HUGE blisters on the back of my heels (formed due to crossing rivers the day before and having to put my boots onto wet feet continuously - WHY did the company tell us not to bring sandals?!) were being rubbed and broken every time I took a step uphill. So painful... As my friends and family know, I don't do physical pain very well. Ouch!

We ended up with a third guide today, a local villager with a GUN! This was because we were the first tourists to trial this route which the company's guides hadn't even trekked themselves. The reason for the gun was in case of a tiger attack, I think! Along the way - often the paths were non-existent and we just trekked through jungle and terrain making paths as we went - the guide would chop down a huge tree and make a little sign with the chopped branches, directing the next trekkers along the right path. This was all very exciting for us.

On this day, we hiked to a cattle village of ten families where the women and children had never seen white people before. The men, who had been more occasionally to neighbouring villages, had come across our kind before but for the women and children, we were a new experience for them. Some of the children were so scared of us farang (foreigners) they cried. This was a special experience for us too. I didn't think I'd meet people so detached from city life and globalisation in my lifetime.

We ate lunch in the house of one of the villagers with the bravest of the little boys looking on through the doors at our intriguing behaviour, skin and hair colour!

Our favourite part of the trek this day was (apart from when we finally stopped for the evening!) when we came across a grapefruit tree.

This was like an oasis in a desert and was such a welcome, refreshing break. As our guides hacked the fruit open with their machetes, we were able to enjoy the peace and beauty around us and reflect on how much we'd learned about this country and its people in just two short days.

The village that was to host us on our second night, our guides jokingly called 'Electricity City' because, you guessed it, it had electricity. Not only this but a tarmac road for vehicles. It felt like we were walking on the moon to walk along this road, back in civilisation after two days out in the jungle. In this village, we stayed in the home of the village leader.

Men would come and go with little note books for meetings about their rice productivity and plots with their elected leader.

There was no toilet in this home so we were to walk down to the road to the forest to relieve ourselves. Showering was slightly easier than the previous night however. As I stood at the river about to 'shower' watching the local children splashing around, Khit told myself and the other girls that before us, these people had probably never seen a bikini before, not even on television.

The six of us farang slept in the rice storage shed and it was probably the best night sleep any of us have ever had! After rinsing off in the river and another fabulous meal of sticky rice and bamboo stew accompanied by Lao-Lao rice whisky, we were ready for a very early night. After our own meal, we were invited to eat with the family. I loved being in their kitchen, sitting underneath their clear plastic bags of preserved foods such as bamboo.

Being part of this trek has undoubtably been one of the best things I've done in my life. When Chris and I set off on this around the world adventure, what we wanted was to really get to know other cultures and embrace the differences between other people and ourselves. In Laos, by going on this trek, we were able to do this. I have never met people who are so untouched by capitalism. I learned so much and hope I never forget how this country has made me feel. I hope with all my heart to return to Laos in the near future and spend longer here.

Hill Tribe Trek - Day 2

Chris> As we trekked up Elephant Mountain on our second morning, Steph's boots gave her more and more blisters. We were all exhausted from the day before's over-extended journey the company had tested on us, without mentioning the need for different footwear to cross streams or water bottles that closed shut. This lead to much complaining on our part between ourselves. Elephant Mountain had us exhausted by 10am. As we dragged our feet, I wondered why we decided to trek through the world's epicenter for malaria mosquitoes...

Khit soon cheered us up by carving us each a bamboo walking stick for the uphill climb. Sao went for bigger vines and even full palm trees to clear the way and clearly mark the new trail for the next trekkers. Down in the valley we crossed over a stream or two and stumbled upon a grapefruit tree. It was almost surreal - an oasis maybe from our exhaustion. The grapefruit was delicious but the acid made my stomach much worse for the rest of the day.

Today's trek required a third guide, Sao, armed with a bayonette, as we were taking a brand new trail that had just been cleared. Now Laos has the unfortunate status for being the most bombed country in the world after the US carpet bombing campaign during the Vietnam War, with unexploded ordnance still abundant - another thought that came up every so often I took a step.


We stopped for lunch in a village where many of the women and children had never seen a foreigner before. The boys all stared from the doorway as we ate more of our sticky rice. I don't remember much from the afternoon since my weakened and dehydrated body just focused on each step. After reaching the end of the trail just before dark, we were all relieved to hang up our boots. We were staying in the village leader's house. This village was on a paved road, had electricity, some brick houses and some people also owned a bike. The family cooked bamboo soup for us, and for them, buffalo in its own blood. I stuck to sticky rice. Khit stayed up late again to tell us more about his country and answer all our questions. He shared his dream for seeing eight countries in the world. He also wishes to live until he is 85 and have 24 children: 12 girls and 12 boys. He laughed. In truth his first dream is to see Australia. We encouraged him to use WWOOF to work on farms for free and couchsurfer to stay for free along the way there. This should enable him to see his eight countries without too much expense. But I'm not sure how good he is with the internet for arranging flights and the online visa site for Australian visas. Hopefully he will stay in touch. I want to help him with this, if he wants.

Steph and I realized that we have never been to a country like Laos and we have never met people like this. We were up again this morning to the sound of chopping wood and people talking in the street at 5h30. We see the mountains rise misty above our little village. Roosters crow and dogs play. The village is full of morning smells, floating up from smoky wood fires and spicy food simmering in blackened pots. Today (day 3) we'll jump into kayaks to descend the rapids of the Mekong River all the way back toward Luang Prabang.

Hill Tribe Trek - Day 1

Chris > In Laos we would awake to many sounds. Some days you hear the boom of drums and the murmur of chanting as monks in orange robes. They parade through the early morning streets receiving offerings, their food for the day. But yesterday we almost always woke up to a rooster. And today it was an alarm clock for adventure!

As we prepare to pile into the van, we took one last look at the quaint little blocks have been taken over by bustling cafes, restaurants, travel agencies and money exchanges. It was time to say goodbye to all modern conveniences for a glimpse of the hill tribe life.

These days one can’t just walk into the jungle in Laos. The country was heavily bombed during the Vietnam war and there are still huge areas covered in unexploded ordnance.

Now I'm writing this after the first day trekking is behind us, while sipping my morning coffee outside the hut where we stayed last night, so as not to forget the sights and sounds. Today we woke up to an orchestra of village noises at 5.30am. I don't know which came first: the rooster, the neighbours, the dogs scuffling, firewood being chopped or the grumpy cows being dragged to the trof.

The fog is now lifting over the village so we can see our surroundings. We arrived here yesterday evening after dark with little idea of what the village around us looked like. I really enjoyed the challenge to communicate with the villagers. Some had a few broken words in English to test out. Yet common questions like 'Where are you from?'or 'How are you?' are totally pointless. After a few minutes however, I was taught 'dog', 'fire' and the five names of one family by the more curious villagers who pointed until we repeated each word. Most other were curious and shy. After all, if they were transported into our daily lives of skyscrapers and subways, it would be a total alien experience. I really wish I could talk to them and learn about their world.

Life is not easy for these farmers. On our 8h15min trek to get here, we learned about the many steps in the rice growing trade that they survive on (most of this local rice they produce is used for candy or drinks). It is hard work, let me tell you. We merely had to walk up and down these steep inclines, while the women were completing their full day's work scaling these vertical crops. Before lunch I saw a five year old boy bash rice pods with all his little might. His pregnant mother was working up a sweat right beside him. Another boy was atop a hill spreading rice into the breeze as a wind prayer to suppress the bad rice.

The first sticky rice lunch - we ate sticky rice all three days for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Soon it was lunch time. Our group of six joined five rice farmers in their day hut in the field where a cast pot of water was already over the flame. They stuck live crabs on a spit to roast on the fire and then added them for flavouring to the broth. Unfortunately I couldn't share the local food since my stomach was turned upside down by a pizza (ironically) in town the night before.

We continued trekking after lunch through a ravishing landscape of mountain ranges covered in dense forest, keeping an eye out for tigers. Our guide, Kit, pointed out all types of vegetation, including some we can eat like orange wild bananas with black seeds, leaves that have a lemony taste, or berries so bitter only the deer go for them. The scenery along the trek was an inspiring rush of adrenaline (let me tell you, Steph and I both need this!).

Who else did we meet along the way? We marched over streams and stunning peaks, crossing paths with the occasional farmer. Women hulled rice, pounding it, sifting it, fanning it. If its not rice, farmers also grow bananas, papaya and pineapple. Goats sometimes crowded the edges of the path, but more often it was cows strolling nonchalantly. Hunters pass us on the trail with wide smiles and a songful 'sabaidii-dai".

We approached our first village following dusty little paths that lead around the houses. The Khamu people live in bamboo huts with woven walls and thatched roofs built on sturdy wooden stilts, with a cool space under the house where they store firewood or keep animals.

Everyone is busy. Children rush to greet us, grinning cheekily or hanging their heads bashfully. Turkeys scurry back and forth, trying to avoid our footsteps while pigs dig their snouts in the dust as they awake from their nap in the shade.

Last night our guide, Khit, explained customs and traditions of the minority village tribes over glasses of 'Lao Lao' rice whisky. It was almost his own way of sharing story time. I was amazed that life is at such a local level here that one village does not even speak the same language as the next one over the hill.

I'm told that today it's going to be a 19km trek (two more kilometers than yesterday!) until we reach the next village where we will sleep next to the Mekong river.

One last thought - our guides are wonderfully, genuine people and true ambassadors of this land of waves and smiles. Without them, that might be the limit to our understanding of these lovely people.

Visiting the Hill Tribes

One of the main reasons that I had wanted to visit Laos was to go on a trek through the jungle. I'd heard that this was one of the best places in the world to visit if you enjoy hiking and getting away from the modern world. When Chris and I signed up for a trek, we were looking forward to leaving the capitalist world behind (even though Luang Prabang was thus far the smallest town we'd visited on our whole trip!) and being at one with nature...

By the end of the trek I was truly humbled and overwhelmed by...lovliness.

We left Luang Prabang with two local guides, Jin and Khit: these kind, friendly and patient guides would spend the next three days cooking for our group of six, helping us through the treacherous terrains and setting the pace during our eight hour treks. We were touched by their humility and kindness. Despite being tired themselves having been trekking with tourists for the last six days without a day off, their patience with us was unbelievable.

Khit and Jin, our guides for the next three days.

I kept wondering what they must be thinking about us from Europe and the US, struggling up the mountains, breaking out in massive sweats and needing so many breaks! If they found us funny or frustrating, they never once let it show and conducted the whole trek without complaint or comment. I doubt I personally would have been able to show the same humility in their position! This is one thing I have come to love about people here in Laos; their kindness, constant positivity and uncomplaining nature is like nothing I've experienced before.

Chris and I were happy to be finally using our hiking shoes, and boy, did we need them! Many of the ascents were steeper than anything either of us had climbed before and because we were trialling a new route, often the 'paths' were nothing more than a clearing through the jungle plantations - if we were lucky!

On our first day we learned about rice production. On a distant hilltop, we could make out a solitary figure who, from our viewpoint, seemed to be hovering over the rice fields. He was calling out a song which our guides told us was to summon the wind to help remove the bad grain from the crop.

Wind-caller

We passed people hitting the rice sheafs against tarp on the ground so as to loosen the rice granuals ready for bagging up for storage.

The people we passed must have walked miles to reach their particular field. We would come across people every couple of hours: while we were about to flop in fatigue, small, barefooted girls of around eight years old would hurry past us in twos carrying rice bags uphill back to their villages.

This boy was intrigued by our group and RAN ahead of us

for a couple of hours, stopping every few hundred metres

for us to catch up.

The children here are undoubtably so strong and fit: I was huffing and puffing up the mountains with nothing more than a tiny backpack and here were girls practically running with huge bags of rice! This really hit home and I wondered how these people must see us...

Lunch was eaten in the shade of a little hut amid the rice fields and eaten from Banana leaves. Sticky rice was the staple but during the course of the three days, we sampled bamboo soup, green beans used in different ways and a few chicken dishes. Banana leaves are ideal plates for on the go; thick, strong and non-porous, they hold everything you want to eat!

At the first village we came across, boys played with wooden spinning tops the whole time we were there. I could tell these gave them hours of fun.

These were clearly the cool boys in town; the smaller children stared wide eyed dreaming of the day they'd be allowed to join in with the bigger boys.

Something as simple as this brought on all kinds of emotions and thoughts in me. It surely isn't too long ago that children in Europe were content with small wooden games like this and spent hours competing outdoors with their spinning tops. The modern, technological world means things are different now. I don't know whether I felt happiness that these boys were so engaged in such a simple game or sadness that this kind of entertainment is far gone for a lot of children back home. Either way I was overcome by emotion: perhaps it was the sight of the next mountain looming before us, inviting us to climb it!

This trek was the most physically challenging thing I've done for as long as I can remember. The heat combined with my severe lack of fitness after three months of doing nothing but drink beer and read/sleep all day meant that climbing the mountains and even descending seemed near impossible to me. It wasn't helped by the huge blisters that had been forming and were being rubbed raw by my boots.

By the time we reached the village where we were to sleep on our first night, emotions were running high. I had almost given up twice... Goodness knows where I expected to sleep but I felt at times that I just couldn't go any further! On normal treks, we would have stopped at the previous village (after five and a half hours of trekking) but because we were on a brand new trek, the first ever to trial it, we continued another two and a half hours to the next village. It was dark when we arrived and we were apparently the first tourists to ever have spent the night there. This was special. The village leader greeted us with 'Thank you'. Whether this was the only word he knew in English or whether he wanted to express his gratitude to us for staying in his village, I can't say, but either way, it was fitting and of course, made me even more emotional. When he brought his six year old son out to read for us, well... you can imagine how moved I was! Completely overwhelmed by lovliness. I took a video and will post it in a following blog.

The Village leader with his wife.

If we wanted to shower, we were to go to the village water pump and wash there. The toilet reminded me of that in one of the scenes in Slumdog Millionaire. A hut covering a hole in the ground, below which a, let's say, 'waste disposal' cave had been dug.

One thing's for sure, after an eight hour trek, a good meal in our tummies, a few hours with our guide listening to him tell us of the history of this particular tribe and stories of his childhood, we were all very pleased with out humble accommodation and dropped right to sleep.