In and around Luang Namtha. Jungle and tribes.

I would complain anonymously-complaining about the state isn't necessarily such a good idea in socialistic, democratic one party state Laos.

In my noodle soup shop I like their calendars. Actually i love their calendars. And by the way-they have food as well. Their noodle soups with different choices of meat rank among the better thanks to a mountain of different aromatic herbs served with it.

Two types of Laolao at the market. Moonshine with hangover as a common key ingredient.

Banana flowers-used as a vegetable in soups and stews.

Rattan, one of the important items harvested in the forests. There are many types and they have a wide variety of use-from building materials to rope to medicine and food. These pieces are for food. The outer layers are peeled off, uncovering a brittle, tasty core. A delicious vegetable-i would love to introduce the idea of rattan salad.

In a village of the Lanten people just outside Luang Namtha. A good way of keeping rats out of the house.

A Lanten woman prepares yarn for weaving.

Trekking is the big thing in Luang Namtha. I signed up for a trip trough jungle to a tribal village. Here i pose as the forest god in an established rest site in the jungle.

Served on banana leafs, lunch in the green. Fellow trekker, British Paul enjoys.

It is that perfect jungle, with sunlight being filtrated trough the dense canopy roof above. The sunlight being reflected in small streams trough the greenness. The air is filled with the sounds of playing insects. Walking there was mostly easy-but thee were a couple of more demanding slopes-made demanding by slippery conditions and the fact one of my sandals broke.

Arriving at the village. At first glimpse it looks rather modern, but it soon became evident old ways still live on there. We were put up in the compound of the village chief. A small addition to the main house with a sleeping platform and mosquito nets in it. The toilet was across the street-a hole in the ground style loo under a roof not suitable for the heaviest of rain showers.

The old animistic belief system is visible and dominant. Here is a row of spirit houses. If people want their spirits to reside and protect, they have to supply them with accommodation and offerings.

A grooms house. Once a groom is appointed, a tinny house on tall stilts is built near the home of the "to be"bride. Here the guy is supposed to live.

A spirit catcher. They can be seen everywhere-below buildings. Placed on roofs. attached to trees. They are highly sacred objects with a definite no touch rule applied to it.

On a wall in the home of our host. Fungus hanging-more spiritualism visible.

Returning with firewood from the forest. No gas or coal there.

We wanted beer, and was given directions to a shop which was not at all very evident. We passed it but eventually found it. We instantly became the star attraction of an ever growing audience of people of all ages and both sexes. Seeing the white people drinking beer obviously was exiting. Some of them was trying to communicate a bit more and was rewarded with cigarettes and a sip of beer.

A group of lovely villagechildren.

Early morning, the village is slowly getting to life and making ready for a new working day out in the forest and in the fields.

The kitchen fire of our host.

Not a good morning for everyone. A pig gets killed-a knife piercing its heart. The blood is collected.

They dug a hole in the ground and put the pig in it. Then pouring hot water over it to ease the removal of the fur.

An elderly woman inspects the work.

A bystander. The slaughtering event drew a big crowd. Many of them waiting for a share of the meat.

On our way out of the village we passed a scaffold with lot of sticks attached to it-offerings to the spirits. On our way from the jungle to the main road we went to rubber plantations, passed remote ricebarns and into pristine jungle. We were showed a little jungle food-i got to eat red ants-living red ants-straight from the log they were travelling along. An acidic taste which could do the trick in some dishes.

Phongsali trekking.

The Phongsali area is a trekkers paradise. It is relatively remote so many travellers never make it there. It is beautifull and it has a lot of that Nat Geo style tribal villages. In total making a trek very rewarding for those taking the effort of going there.

Dinner at Laoper restaurant. Somewhat expensive, but delicious. A series of ingredients are ready for eating, you choose which ones you want. We were 4 around the table. One swizz guy i met on the bus from Muang Khua. We joined forces at the Pak Nam Noi junction where we, awaiting transport up to Phongsali-joined forces over beer and fried bugs of various kinds. Then there was a french couple we had no problem convincing to share a trek. It is important here-more important than in some other places because of the high cost of trekking with guide. Not because it has to be-but because the state (read those deep pockets getting their fill from the tourist sector) levy high taxes on the trekking companies. The private ones that is. The tourist information (which never opened during our stay) have cheaper treks-but they pay less tax (public money directly to the....state) and can keep the prices somewhat down.

In Phongsali i found this socialist style poster. It tells nothing about corruption-sorry-commissions or the elitist leadership ruling the country/filling their own pockets.

A little on the young and small side-but the attitude and bravery is there.

The first village seen from above


The following morning we were driven by the trailhead south of Phongsali. The road go high above the valley and we got to see how the green mountains pierced the dense fog carpet covering the valleys. Like green islands in a milky ocean. Then it was walking. Downhill, mostly in the beginning, until we reached a Hmong tribe village. After lunch it was up-up-up. A long way up. Trough farmland and jungle on slippery trails.

Drums outside the Buddhist temple. One of its uses is as an alarm. When somethings happens, somebody will beat the drum and everyone present in the village will show up.

Hmong children at play. Their tools being simple.

Shit for us. Manna from heaven for these mineral licking butterflies.

A school bell.

Returning from a hunting trip to the forest, with a gun reminding of something from 200 years ago.

Not the golden gate. It was swinging and complaining-but it works. Just watch up for a couple of holes which may trap your feet.

A simple waterpipe made of bamboo. The tobacco used in it being very strong.

Giggly young ladies.

After a long walk in drizzling rain, some motorized transport. Called Tok Tok, they are the mode of public transportation for many remote living Laotians.

Akha woman in a market.

A small reptile trusted its camouflage a bit too much. I was without any problem able to hand catch it "Steve Irwin"style for a closer look.

Pretty flowers in a world of green leafs.

Pretty, a bit sour but fully edible fruits.

After a long uphill, and then downhill hike on slippery trails and paths we finally can see our destination. A small, steep Akha village. All were ready for a shower-to be done at the communal washing place at the bottom of the village. To the amusement of the locals of both sexes. afterwards, dinner with one of the village families-complete with a few shots of laolao.

Dinner around a low table. We were sitting on tiny wooden stools.

It is early in the morning. It has been raining like crazy for hours. The main street is a river. I am needy  and the toilet is on the other side of the stream. As I position myself over the hole in the ground-a pig arrives, ready to check out my business.

A cluster bomb shell has started a new and better life.