| Our expedition in the former Indo-Chinese Union led us to the Lao People's Democratic Republic. Because of a non-existent railroad network and of roads rarely tarred, the route towards Luang Prabang seemed to us endlessly bucolic. The isolation of the former royal capital had allowed to protect its original aspect. The languishing city presented an harmonious existence away from the artificial attractions of modernity. The young bonzes with their shaved skull and saffron coloured toga, snapped their fingers at the industrialization which was taking place outside their country's borders. |
| The traditional boats guided us on the famous Mekong river. The poetry of its ethnic villages shone in the heart of the forest. The endemic trees were graceful and numerous. Even ebony was different, instead of wearing the expected ink dark color, it showed a mix of black and vanilla stripes. Near their bamboo huts, craftsmen worked the quintessence of this precious wood with dexterity and ingenuity. Inside these houses on piles, we could easily guess they were the dens of the 3rd world producing and consumer country of opium. |
| We attended magic sessions of weaving. Archaic spinning wheels, warps, wefts and shuttles took part in the making of silk fabric with picturesque and shiny motives. The wealthiness of these materials contrasted with the extreme poverty of the farmers. Instead of wine, we were offered the delicious coffee from the plateaus of Bolovens and the lovely Lao beer brewed near Vientiane. These drinks were more appealing than the lao-lao, the local rice alcohol or the terrible energy drinks, elaborated with grape juice and soaked snakes. |
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laos
meditation in the cave of Pak Ou
silk weaving in Luang Prabang
serenity of Indochina
house roof
game along the Mekong river
spicy food