Category Archives: Weekly Photo Challenge

“The memory now
is like the picture was then;
when the paper’s crumbled up
it can’t be perfect again.”
- Linkin Park

Weekly Photo Challenge: Escape

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Escape to Myanmar?

Escape to Myanmar?

An escape.  Or rather, an attempted escape.

On a trip completely paid for by my employer, I was shuttled off to the north of Thailand for a long weekend.  The highlight of the trip for me was to be in range of the Golden Triangle and the Burma border crossing at Mae Sai.  Everywhere else we would go, I had already been to.

Arriving at the border, we were supposed to be able to leave our passports and pass into the border town.  No foreigners are allowed to proceed onward from that town, but we would still get around an hour to explore.

Leaving our passports with the Thai authorities, we were on a bridge over a stream in a literal no man’s land.  Getting to the Burma crossing, we were asked to provide our passports.  The same passports we had just left behind.  On top of that, they wanted an additional 500 baht or US$15.

This resulted in quite the standoff between our Thai boss and the Burmese border guard.  By the time we actually found out what we needed to do, there wasn’t enough time to even bother.  Instead, most of us went into the duty free store and had a look around.  Zhou, a Chinese coworker, and I both got a can of Chinese beer and had them outside overlooking the stream before heading back across the bridge into Thailand.

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Travel Theme: Elements of the Mekong

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This week’s Travel Theme by Ailsa at WhereMyBackpack.com is The Four Elements.   Sticking with a common theme through the four picture challenges, I thought I’d recount a little tour down the Mekong River.

Water - Crossing the Mekong River to Huoay Xai.

Water – Crossing the Mekong River to Huoay Xai.

Water.

Crossing the Mekong River at Chiang Kong, near Chiang Rai at the northern tip of thailand. This is one of the most relaxed borders I have ever been to, with a ramp heading right past the immigration stand into the Laos town of Houay Xai.

But alas, there is no bridge. The only way to cross is by long-tail riverboat.

Air - Day breaking over the meeting river in Luang Prabang.

Air – Day breaking over the meeting rivers in Luang Prabang.

Air.

In central Laos is the sleepy, very much French-influenced town of Luang Prabang. Filled with bakeries, chateaus, and dotted with Buddhist temples, the town in renowned for its beauty. It was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The northern tip of the town, where the Mekong River meets the Nam Khan certainly has a breathtaking air about it in the early morning hours.

 

Fire - Ships burning at the Naga Fireballs celebration.

Fire – Ships burning at the Naga Fireballs celebration.

Fire.

In late October, thousands gather in the small town of Phon Phisai in Nong Khai, Thailand for the Naga Fireballs. These yet-to-be-explained glowing orbs shoot out of the river. But according to Thais I spoke with, they are still a rare occurrence.

The natural(?) spectacle is supplemented by fire lanterns and ships in the shape of traditional Thai riverboats which are set on fire. They are sent burning down the river until they begin to break apart and sink in view of all the spectators.

 

Earth - The craggy, impassable, waterfalls of the 4000 Islands.

Earth – The craggy, impassable waterfalls of the 4000 Islands.

Earth.

At the southern tip of Laos is Si Phan Don, the 4000 Islands. Near the southern end of these is Don Khon, a sparsely inhabited island surrounded by these kinds of rocky outcroppings and canyons. While they provide spectacular scenery, it is this small stretch alone which makes the Mekong River intraversable all the way north to China.

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Travel Theme: Beaches

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Whitefish Point beach, A fin du monde

Whitefish Point beach, A fin du monde

Thailand, where I am now, has its share of magnificent beaches. Mountain-encircled. Clear blue watered. Silhouettes of fishing boats crawl along the horizon mimicking snails.

So too did Malaysia and Puerto Rico before that.

However, the beach I chose to share for this Travel Theme, Whitefish Point, is one of the most uniquely iconic I have ever been to.

Quite literally a fin du monde shooting out into Lake Superior, the beach at Whitefish Point is a memorial, a final eulogy, to all those lost vessels. Myron and John B. Cowel and the Superior City, and most famously the Edmund Fitzgerald, who perished in the frigid and unpredictable waters of this great inland sea.

Lying only 10 km north of the insignificant town called Paradise, this beach is littered with the remnant driftwood of the decayed woodlands of the Canadian Shield. In the winter, the sand and the ice and the shards of decaying driftwood jet out like oversized splinters on a
frostbitten skin.

Regardless of the time of year, far off in the fogged horizon lay the intangible white towers dotting the shore of Canada. And the lighthouse horn sounds, a voice reassuring to those lost vessels. It lets them know that Paradise is close; that there is a way around this end.

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Travel Theme: Dance

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little-india-dance

“Wherever you are, are you dancing on the dancefloor, drinking by the bar?” It’s a question posited by Ke$ha on her newest CD. And yes, I am willing to admit that Ke$ha is a guilty pleasure on my iPod.

The question itself though is one that echoes curiously throughout the world, though likely not by Ke$ha’s intent. Dances and music are intertwined with bars and with cultures in general in a I way that I could never hope to put into words. Yet, it is so interesting to see it in action.

The oddest example would certainly be the 4 degree of culture I noticed in Surin, Thailand of English speakers dancing at a Roman toga party in a Jamaican reggae bar in rural Thailand.

Then there are other simply embracing their own cultural heritage and dance, even far from what would be its home. For example, the Little India of Singapore is loaded with what would be considered Bollywood bars.

Despite being in a setting far from its origin, these bars draw in their ethnic crowds in for a form of their traditional dance. And they were exceptionally welcoming to any stray foreigner, namely me, who happened to be curious enough to wander in.

The night saw a couple people buy me a drink and chat me up, though I’m pretty sure one of them, a middle aged Indian man, was more interested in flirting with me than genuine conversation. I also made my way on stage at the invitation of an indian girl, though when I noticed a couple less than amused looks, my dance came to an end.

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Travel Theme: Light

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plain-of-jars-lightThe Plain of Jars Site 1, my final stop over a hellishly adventurous day of exploring ancient ruins amidst active minefields. I was convinced my wrists may be broken after 5 hours of riding on a motorcycle after a spill on a jagged road.

Site 1 is the largest and most accessible of the Plain of Jars sites, making it less appealing in a way. Dozens of giant stone jars little a landscape torn apart by stray bombs from the Vietnam War. Their purpose is unknown. Why would people who live in reed and bamboo homes and barely subsist in rice cultivation have put so much effort into creating such massive stoneworks?

Through the pain, as it might be my only chance to ever see these, it had been an otherwise amazing day. Small Laos towns, abandoned war zones, mysterious ancient monuments. Late in my time at Site 1, the newly thickened clouds gave way to an immense pillar of light shining down over the hills of this once-devastated plain.

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Culture

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Champasak-Culture

Out on the open road again, this time in the southern limits of Laos, I was driving away from the insanity of the New Year water festival, Songkran or Pii Mai Lao, that would be ensuing in Pakse.

About forty kilometers downstream on the Mekong River is town of Champasak, former capital of one of the Lao Kingdoms, though you would never know by seeing the town today. The road to Champasak was a desolate one. Being the dry season, all small streams and tributaries to the Mekong were bone dry sand beds.

Just before entering the town of Champasak, there is a checkpoint where I was stopped the those manning the stand. Waving me to the side of the road in their Hawaiian shirts and straw hats, tokens of the water festival, they had pulled me over simply to ask me to join them for, of all things, a Vietnamese beer.

We spent the next twenty minutes having a rough conversation in a mix of my horrid Thai, their limited English, and a lot of laughing and gestures. Occasionally, one of the checkpoint employees would be forced to go to their stand to collect the toll from a passerby. This would sometimes result in an exchange of watergun fire in celebration of their cultural New Year.

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