The River

This shaky, undulation bamboo bridge is rebuilt every dry season when the flood waters recede. The walking surface is nothing but an open weave of bamboo slats that shifts with every step. The water of this Nam Kahm river moves sluggishly as it joins the Mekong just a hundred yards away. 

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Luang Prabang II

Back to Luang Prabang and the gentleness it exudes and washes through my whole being.  This town’s special quality is that of being.  There is an old saying: the Vietnamese plant the rice, the Laotians watch it grow and the Cambodians harvest the rice.  Laos is a place to come to, to be.  There is plenty to do, but if you aren’t taking the time to watch the rice grow, then you missed Laos. Continue reading “Luang Prabang II”

Luang Prabang I

From the balcony of our six-guest room, former French villa, we can watch the monks in the next-door monastery.  They are doing the monk routines of studying, tending gardens, chatting, playing, sending text messages and washing their orange/red robes.  These monasteries are generally the only means of acquiring an education in Laos.  There is something lovely about the vibration of Luang Prabang monasteries, which are devoted to a blend of spiritual pursuits and education. Continue reading “Luang Prabang I”