(Daniel) Charged with excitement, and ready for adventure, Mum, Nii and I climbed into the Wolf.  We had got up at 7am, as I remembered that the market here was quite a sight, and had wanted to show the others prior to the trek.  Sadly a lot of the more traditional elements were not apparent when we did find the market, but the tribal people were sporting traditional costumes from many of the different tribes in the area.

After a tour of the market, we went to the bank, which opened at 8.30am.  Inside I got a bad feeling, as the bank was little more than a garage, with a safe at one end, and a telephone next to the one desk.  My fears were confirmed hen the teller inside explained that we would have to return to Luang Nam Tha to get money on a visa card, as the tiny branch did not have the right machine!  We drove to Somporns place, where he and Mr Joy were waiting.  I explained the situation to them, and suggested that we paid afterwards.  But they didn’t seem too happy with the idea.  The time now was 9.00am, I told them that I would drive to Luang Nam Tha, and return here with the money by 11am.  They agreed to wait, while Mum Nii and I, climbed into the Wolf, and drove the hour back to Luang Nam Tha.  Immediatley on arrival we went to the bank, got out the money that we needed, and stopped in on the guesthouse where we had stayed, to see if they had found Mums phone.  Unfortunately, but not unsurprisingly, they had not!

As we arrived back in Muang Sing, the time was 11.05am, Mr Joy climbed in next to me, and we drove off towards Muang Long, leaving the tarmac road for a dirt track after about 4kms, driving towards Burma.  The track was annoying to say the least.  I don’t mind dirt tracks, as they settle and can be driven at speed, but this track was semi solid with huge potholes which if misjudged or hit at the wrong speed sent jarring, bone crunching rattles through the Wolf.  The track went on for about 60kms until we arrived in Muang Long, a small town with few inhabitants, most of them farmers and tribal people displaced by logging or a need to be close to services that they had grown dependant on.

In the town we stopped outside a house that Mr Joy indicated, he jumped out and walked in to the grounds, returning a short while later with another man, this was to be our local guide, Mr Joy introduced him as Mr Porn.  The man obviously did not speak English, but seemed very pleasant, if a little quiet.  I imagine that the vehicle and setup could be a little daunting at first! Mr Porn climbed into the back with his small bag and second pair of shoes then directed me towards the market about 1km away.  The market was a small affair, very different to the huge sprawling operation at Muang Sing.  We bought noodles, water, biscuits, soap and a small cooking pot, then returned to the Wolf.

I drove back the way which we had come about 3kms, then turned off the road onto a muddy track, which appeared to be unmarked either on the map or with signs from the road.  The track was only just wide enough to fit the Wolf, and was mud cut out of the hillside with a bulldozer. As it had been quite dry, the track was good, but I could see from the soft surface that a few hours of rainfall would leave it a boggy mess and extremely hard to negotiate.  We climbed up higher and higher several kms into the mountains.  The track got smaller and rougher, occasionally the mud was wet and I had to power through to the other side of holes and bogs.  In the back I could hear worried noises as the track got thin dropping off sheer cliffs to the valleys below.  Occasionally rain fell, but nothing to worry about, the air here was cool and comfortable.  After about 15kms we came to a group of people walking, they were tribal Arkha people, and it looked as if they had hiked up from the town.  They flagged me down, asking for a lift, but I had no room for them and had to apologise as I drove on.

Another 2kms later we came to a village, the fairly small settlement clung to the side of the hill, it consisted of small huts made from wood, and seemed almost abandoned.  This situation was not unusual, as the villagers would be working in their fields or the forest surrounding the huts. I stopped the truck and opened the back door for Mum, Mr Porn and Mr Joy, who were squeezed in there together. As we approached the village on foot, I saw a woman coming out of her hut, she looked to be around 30 years old, but may have been younger, as it is hard to tell with the hard working tribal peoples.  She saw our small group and grabbed her small child by the arm picking it up by it’s limb and running at full speed to another hut.  The woman looked pregnant, making the scene even more horrific, sadly I have seen this before.  The people are told by their shamans that evil spirits visit the villages, and that they must be careful to avoid them at all costs.  We must have appeared to this woman as such spirits.  She ran inside the hut and closed the door behind her.

Unusually, the people in this village obviously kept small parrot like birds as some sort of status symbol, and each house had some of the small birds tethered underneath.  One house had about twelve of the small birds on special perches, they were green in colour and quite beautiful, I wondered if they ate these birds on special occasions.  We decided to walk back to the Wolf, as the people had chosen to hide away inside the one hut and were obviously not coming out. 

Just as we returned to the vehicle, the group of Arkha people who we had passed arrived, they were not from this village, but obviously had to pass through on their way.  Again the begging for a lift started, an old lady, wearing the traditional tribal headdress of the Arkha people and not very much more was pointing at her knees and telling us through our guides that she was 70 and too old to walk back to her village.  They had already walked down from their village, another 20kms into the mountains, and were now returning having bought supplies and traded livestock etc.  I decided to help, and agreed to give the old lady a lift, she seemed very happy, and indicated that she wanted to take a small child with her, this was fine of course, but Mr Joy made a big show of saying how rough the ride was, and that the child who had probably never even been in a vehicle before would probably be sick.  Scared of insulting me, they produced a bag from somewhere, and instructed the poor, frightened child to hold the bag infront of her mouth ready for the imminent vomiting.  The old lady climbed into the passenger seat, and took the child on her lap.  Then the others clambered in to the back, closing the door ready to press on into the mountains.

I couldn’t believe the sight, a tribal person, with almost no clothes and traditional headdress, riding shotgun in the Wolf!  She seemed grateful, but did not loose her self respect.  I could see that she was a woman of some notable position amongst the people, and this came across in the way which she acted.  The poor child held the bag tight to her mouth as we drove out of the village and further into the hills.  The track got progressively worse, until it was little more than a footpath in places, the mud getting deep enough to have us sliding around in it, dangerously close to the edge!

We passed through another village, but as we now had our passengers, did not stop there, instead carrying on through some slash and burn fields.  Halfway across the fields, we were stopped by two men, they were quite forceful in stopping me, standing across the middle of the track, and putting their hands into the window and on my steering wheel when I did come to a halt, I was a little scared, despite outnumbering them.  They wanted a lift too, becoming quite insistent, but there was no room, a fact which I invited them to see by pointing into the rear of the vehicle.  One man stuck his head in, but soon stood back and let us pass, as the old lady next to me let fly with a barrage of Arkha language, which did not sound at all friendly!

We left the farmland, climbing higher into the mountains eventually passing through the cloudline.  The child who had held the bag tight to her mouth all this time, was sick now, although only a small amount.  It seemed almost as if she had done it on purpose, as if that had been suggested so she felt a duty to satisfy her responsibility!  Then we arrived at the village.  It was a big village as they go, probably the largest in the area,  unusually the huts were built on the ground, as opposed to the normal style of houses on stilts.  Dozens of children ran around, naked or barely clothed, they were filthy and sported all manner of minor cuts and scrapes.  Older people sat around too, too weak to work in the fields, they sat at home and looked after the children for the younger generations.  The Arkha women wear a traditional headdress, and most of the girls in the area had these on, decorated with old coins handed down from family to family, and apparently worth fortunes now.  This is an Arkha tradition, to bury stashes of coins for hundreds of years, their value being as antiques or in trading with other Arkha tribes for wedding dowries.

The old lady and small child, climbed out, much to the surprise of the other villagers, without so much as a thank you, they wandered off to join their families.  Our guides got out and went to look for the village chief, meanwhile Mum and Nii clambered out and began to take photos.  Animals wandered around everywhere, pigs, goats, chickens and a couple of horses.  Small dogs ran around too, these were almost all black in colour, the favoured type for eating.  The Arkha save these for the colder weather, when the warming properties of dog meat come in useful.  I confirmed that the dogs were for eating with our guides, who seemed nonchalant about the fact that here man’s best friend, was simply mans best meal!

The Chief appeared then, and showed us to his house.  This is where we would sleep for the night, on the floor with the rest of the family.  Mum looked a little concerned and asked of she could stay in the rooftent, which was fine, I put this up  watched by an audience of children and workers who had started to return from their work in the fields.  Mr Joy found a chicken from somewhere, taking supplies from the truck, and going to work to prepare dinner for us all.  Meanwhile I took out lights and my medical supplies.  I noticed that an old man sitting in our hut had a bad cough, and took out some cough medicine to give to him.  He was so grateful, taking the medicine, and describing it’s soothing effect to the villagers, who started to gather around again to see what the latest spectacle was.  Soon a cue started to form, everyone had a cough, then a bad back, then a headache.  I had a good supply of painkillers and cough medicine, but this was soon exhausted.  I gave out my Imodium to the various people who were complaining of stomach problems, but then started to run low on supplies.  The people kept coming, with one problem after another, their herbal medicines were hardly very good compared to modern western painkillers and remedies.

Then a girl was pushed forward, she had an abscess in her neck, which had swollen up so badly that her chin had disappeared in the swelling.  This was far beyond my medicines, I asked if they could take her to a hospital, but they had no way of making the long journey to the bus station, and then had no money to pay for expensive treatment.  I gave them enough for injections fro a nurse who occasionally visited the village. and a bus ride to hospital, hoping that they would use the money to help the poor child, who if untreated could die.  Then we had to usher the rest of the people away, explaining that the medicine was finished, and that we had helped as much as we could. 

As I sat on my own in the hut, an old lady, who I had given some of my cough medicine to, came over.  She handed me a small egg, a gift in exchange for the medicine.  Then another lady came and gave me another egg.  Mum came in and said that she had been given an egg too, as had Nii.  The guides said that this was very special, as the people here only extended these gifts to other tribes or people within their own village, and in giving us the eggs, had shown us special hospitality, that they had not seen in some years now.  This village and the surrounding area of Muang Long does not receive visits from tourists, so the people here have only seen Laos people or the occasional aid worker.  Our presence in the village was akin to an alien landing, and was given the attention that such an event would command! 

Dinner was ready then, we ate sat around in the small kitchen, next to the stoneage style cooking fire, chicken curry with rice and noodles.  The chief brought us Arkha rice spirit which they make in the village, and we drank this in the traditional style, thanking everyone in the area with eye contact and nods and smiles, then making a big show of how delicious the string spirit is.  Mr Joy looked like he might be sick as he drank his, but I drank a few glasses, much to the appreciation of the villagers. I had developed a taste for the strong whisky in Luang Prabang during my second trip to Laos.

After dinner we went to bed, Mum in the rooftent with an audience who stayed out there watching the tent for most of the Night, and Nii, Mr Joy, Mr Porn and I in the hut with the Chief and his family.  The night was noisy, as the people stayed up late drinking and singing traditional Arkha songs, these wailing songs sounded haunting and very much like American Indian songs.

PREVIOUS |  NEXT