Stories from the City of Monks
A lot of blessings richer we head down to the former royal capital Luang Prabang. We arrive at night and battle our way past “TUKTUK?” shouting motor-taxis towards suburban areas. With an exchange rate of 1/10,000 even being millionaire would not allow us to rest for long in the upper class tourism that is all present in the centre. We stop at a fine guest house with one of the typical at the entrance placed shrines - a symbolic home for the house spirit and place of daily offers to keep the good luck going. Covered in magnificent temples and occupied by monks and tourists, the city emits a contrasting feeling of modernity and antique. Amidst the chaos and serenity, I meet three young orange-robed novices – bright and remarkably aware personalities for an age where I still spent more time on the Nintendo than in the sunlight. After some cheerful 'monk-eying around', as they put it, I head back into the town, amazed at how little the seemingly unstoppable expansion of tourism impacts upon the path of the young Buddhists. In the morning we rise with the sun to watch the long procession of monks walk through the town, accepting food offerings from the devout Buddhist citizen for breakfast. The event is joined by tourists as well as locals who make their profit out of the former by selling little offering-food-baskets. Later at a temple we watch an American – proper fed and with shorts better described as a belt – heading up a ladder towards a novice reading his book on the balcony. He politely stands up while the woman is placing herself for a camera shot right next to him. A thank-you gesture later she is down the ladder and heading back out of the temple. Left behind in a mixture of amusement and disbelief, he watches the stamping march of the lady, who just about ignored almost all social rules.
During the days we wander through the dozens of temples, learning more about the unique stencil technique and style and exchanging chitchat with the inhabitants. To maintain these excessive walks we finally take advantage of the invention of bread – a deliciosity introduced by the French colonials and arguably their best contribution to the world (except wine of course). Ava - coming from the country of Lord Sandwich - welcomed this nice surprise. Strengthened we head for the seemingly endless night-market where legions of handmade silk-scarf stands line up together with snakes swimming in liqueur and other bits and bobs.
Using another perfect sunny day we hire together with a Swedish-Slovakian couple a TukTuk towards Kuang Si waterfalls – a magnificent collection of travertine terraces and indeed the most paradise-like natural swimming pool we have been to. Amidst the ranks of tourist we see the odd monk, out on a sight seeing day with video camera in hand, stopping for a casual break with a cigarette in hand. Monks are people too.
A lot of blessings richer we head down to the former royal capital Luang Prabang. We arrive at night and battle our way past “TUKTUK?” shouting motor-taxis towards suburban areas. With an exchange rate of 1/10,000 even being millionaire would not allow us to rest for long in the upper class tourism that is all present in the centre. We stop at a fine guest house with one of the typical at the entrance placed shrines - a symbolic home for the house spirit and place of daily offers to keep the good luck going. Covered in magnificent temples and occupied by monks and tourists, the city emits a contrasting feeling of modernity and antique. Amidst the chaos and serenity, I meet three young orange-robed novices – bright and remarkably aware personalities for an age where I still spent more time on the Nintendo than in the sunlight. After some cheerful 'monk-eying around', as they put it, I head back into the town, amazed at how little the seemingly unstoppable expansion of tourism impacts upon the path of the young Buddhists. In the morning we rise with the sun to watch the long procession of monks walk through the town, accepting food offerings from the devout Buddhist citizen for breakfast. The event is joined by tourists as well as locals who make their profit out of the former by selling little offering-food-baskets. Later at a temple we watch an American – proper fed and with shorts better described as a belt – heading up a ladder towards a novice reading his book on the balcony. He politely stands up while the woman is placing herself for a camera shot right next to him. A thank-you gesture later she is down the ladder and heading back out of the temple. Left behind in a mixture of amusement and disbelief, he watches the stamping march of the lady, who just about ignored almost all social rules. 
During the days we wander through the dozens of temples, learning more about the unique stencil technique and style and exchanging chitchat with the inhabitants. To maintain these excessive walks we finally take advantage of the invention of bread – a deliciosity introduced by the French colonials and arguably their best contribution to the world (except wine of course). Ava - coming from the country of Lord Sandwich - welcomed this nice surprise. Strengthened we head for the seemingly endless night-market where legions of handmade silk-scarf stands line up together with snakes swimming in liqueur and other bits and bobs. 
Using another perfect sunny day we hire together with a Swedish-Slovakian couple a TukTuk towards Kuang Si waterfalls – a magnificent collection of travertine terraces and indeed the most paradise-like natural swimming pool we have been to. Amidst the ranks of tourist we see the odd monk, out on a sight seeing day with video camera in hand, stopping for a casual break with a cigarette in hand. Monks are people too. 
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