Stuck on Luang Prabang

emilysheffield7
Nov 15, 2024
4 min read

Updated: Feb 19

In mid-October, Laurel and I traveled to Laos, Việt Nam’s landlocked neighbor, for a nine day trip. We made stops in Vientiane, the capital, rural Muang Fuong, and adventure hotspot Vang Vieng. We capped off the itinerary with four days in Luang Prabang, a UNESCO Heritage landmark city. We loved the entire journey, but Luang Prabang was the star of the tour.

Luang Prabang is situated on a tranquil peninsula flanked by the Mekong and Nam Khan rivers. Downtown, the sidewalks are dotted with flowering Bougainvillea bushes. Monks in fire orange robes create a tapestry in motion as they walk beside the violet blooms. Temples are on nearly every street. Their pastel lanterns hang over the entryways, welcoming passersby. The Luang Prabang mountain range, covered in Evergreens, hovers over these scenes while the chug of tuk tuk engines hums in the background.

These reasons are enough to make one smitten, but there was something more about Luang Prabang. I’ve been fortunate enough to travel to many beautiful places; Italy, England, Thailand, Jamaica, and now Việt Nam. I was raised in the state of Maine, a place with some of the most breathtaking natural landscapes in the US, perhaps the world. I have a strong hunch that I will continue to long for Luang Prabang the way I pine for Maine (the pun was irresistible). What was it about this place?

Influences:

Luang Prabang’s influences are rich given its location and history. It’s surrounded by Cambodia to the south, China to the North, Myanmar to the Northwest, with the longest borders held by Thailand to the West and Việt Nam to the East. Luang Prabang was Laos’s royal capital from the early 1300’s to 1560. France’s colonized in the 19th and early 20th centuries.

The impact of the border countries and Luang Prabang’s colonial past remain in the architecture, art and cuisine of the ancient city. Buildings in the Old Quarter have thatched roofs and shutters of cobalt blue and teal cover each window. The scent of baking baguettes and croissants drifts above the sidewalks, blending with the aroma of roasted meats, chilis, and herbs. The honored tradition of silk weaving was passed down by generations of Tai-Lao people who emigrated from Southern China. The intricate textiles are displayed in store windows across the city.

Vestiges of War:

Laos has the tragic distinction of being one of the world’s most bombed countries, thanks in large part to the litany of battles fought between its neighbors. It had its own civil war in the 60’s, backed by the US and Việt Nam. The US was responsible for over 2 million tons of bombs during its war against Việt Nam. Shamefully, the US spent more to bomb Laos in one ten day period during the war than it has to clean up the munitions for the nearly 25 years since the war ended.

Hundreds of unexploded ordinances litter the countryside to this day, and every year tens of Lao people are injured or killed by bomb remnants. Work is being done by organizations like The Halo Trust to rid the country of the bombs and COPE Rehabilitation, based out of Vientiane, provides prosthetics to survivors.

The strength and beauty of the Lao people, many of whom have transformed the bomb shell casings into boats or spoons, can not be overshadowed by the horrific wartime acts. The influence of Buddhism is deeply connected to the serenity felt in Luang Prabang.

Buddhism:

According to legend, during the Buddha’s journey, he stopped in Luang Prabang to rest and smiled upon the city, predicting that it would hold high significance in the history of the country. The words Luang Prabang mean “delicate Buddha statue.” A precious and very heavy statue of the Buddha did in fact make its way from Sri Lanka to Laos, with many stops in between, beginning in1359.

During our stay, the Lao folks we met were kind, and generous of spirit. When we arrived the first evening, the driver of our tuk tuk from the train station to our hotel drove nearly 30 minutes before realizing he’d gotten the hotel address wrong. He then took us to his home briefly to drop off some neighbors. He joked that we should stay with his family for the evening. His laugh was long and contagious. We found ourselves bellowing right along with him. The next day, when we spotted the same driver on a main street, we waved and, once he registered our faces, he doubled over again.

On the eve of our last day in Luang Prabang, we climbed Phou Si Mountain, where a large indentation in a stone was painted gold and is now known as the footprint of the Buddha. I stood on a rock near the Buddha’s footprint, and took in the horizon. This was the one place in the city where we encountered throngs of tourists. We all made the pilgrimage to watch the sun set. I made a promise to myself that when we returned, we would hike at sunrise. Hopefully, then we’d have more time alone with the sky and its changing colors. But, even with the hundreds of others taking selfies around us, I felt a quiet peace.

There was something undeniably unique, and undeniably familiar about Luang Prabang. Its complexity and beauty inspired me to write bad poetry. I won’t subject you to my haikus, but I will share some photos here to give you a sense of the place that left me longing to return.

(Fact/History sources listed below.)