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n Laos

Jim Sullivan encounters life on one of the worlds most famous rivers, the mighty Mekong.

The River of Life

fter several days of heavy rain, the tumescent Mekong hurries south through Luang Prabang, known as LP, in Laos, urgent, charged with mission and purpose. Small skiffs sprint downstream at an unnatural gait while the cross-river boats are obliged to work acute angles against a current that the boats captain estimates at 4km/hr but is clearly faster, judging from the pace of vegetation moving over the surface. Were headed upriver, 35km from the Unesco-recognised temple town. The surrounding peaks shred the low cloud cover, opening breaks that promise better weather. There is so much fluctuation in the level of the famed Mekong River, that its waters claimed another 20 metres of bank during the night. Im travelling with Jean-matthieu Beroujon, assistant operations manager for Villa Maly, a former royal residence turned boutique hotel, and Kamu Lodge, and eco-hotel located up the river from LP. Also with us is Antoine Martin, another Frenchman who manages the Kamu Lodge. Antoine wears a bankers striped pants, flip flops and a ready smile under prominent eyebrows as thick as his lips. Were cruising upstream in the Nava Mekong, a 45m steel-hulled long boat decked in mahogany and teak. Mahogany in the floor and the teak on the roof. The teak is much lighter. The hills suggest abundant wildlife but here, near the rivers edge, the charismatic flora has fled for deeper sanctuaries. Four or five hours from the river, according to Moua Lee, a guide for Kamu Lodge, there are wild pigs and monkeys. The wild elephants endure near the Thai border, and in the south. There is still a tiger population, but its far from people. No one knows exactly.

Lee, who is of the indigenous Hmong tribe, talks to people from LP to Kamu, explaining all the way. He talks about the villages and the famed Pak Ou Caves. In rainy season, the locals harvest long beans and cucumbers, squash and Chinese cabbage, carrying the crops from their small fields on the steep flanks of the hills to little splinters of boats, and then on to market in LP. Antoine came to Laos on holiday, and liked it so much he decided to stay. Hed had a friend whod been here and stories from his friend were impetus for his own trip. His friend raved about the Lao people, and the different style of life. I had to try, he confesses. He lived two months with a Lao family who did not speak English, and quickly he acquired their language. He now also speaks English and Kamu. You have to like the quiet life if you stay at Kamu Lodge, said J-m. Hes brought a book to read at the Lodge. For years as a hotelier in other places, hed abandoned reading but at Kamu there is the desire to dig in again. At Ban Dan village, the Nava Mekong moors at the bank, and we climb a path that looks like reformed chocolate after melting. This is a Lao village of 300 people. We visit a Buddhist temple where an interior mural tells the story of good people and bad, of a mortal man who captures a heavenly woman and binds himself to her until she escapes. The mural was painted by a man from LP 20 years ago and has been touched up ever since. Next door to the temple, two villagers saw through wood by hand, laboring 40 minutes on each plank that will later go into the building of a boat. At first light the next morning, plans to bypass further villages change and I soon find myself on route to a Hmong Village.

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A New Class in Comfort


The woman who opens the temple for us marks the visit of our party, noting there was one new guest. At the end of the year, they invoice the Kamu Lodge owners, 5,000 kip (60) for each guest. At the Kamu village beside the Lodge, its 10,000 kip per guest. The village earns about US$3,000 per year. Families often buy pigs from the proceeds. We pass Kings Island, once the province of the King of LP. The king picnicked here, and at the New Year, they would travel to the Pak Ou Caves, stopping for lunch at the island. A regal pavilion has now been replaced with a solitary building, a sala used to hosts tourists. Usually, the Kamu Journee stops here. A turquoise bird flies low over the water, the color like a surprise, and lands in a stand of reeds in the shallows, flitting from stalk to stalk. The clouds continue to shred as we motor upstream, opening up larger patches of blue and lending drama to the low hilltops, which retain their halos of cloud cover. Small skiffs moored to a steep bank evince men whove come out this day to farm a field cleared in the jungle above, or of a gatherer whos hunting for bamboo shoots in the rainy season. On the east bank, vines hang from towering figs, nearly to the water but not quite. A manic butterfly hurries past, moving upstream twice as fast as the boat. Freshets burst from the foliage, emptying into the river at last. From a limestone bluff droplets of water rain into the river. Here and there, a moored skiff and a stairway up from the river. The river is deep, 50 meters in places, according to one of the boatmen, and as shallow as 15-20m elsewhere. Another cell tower pokes up from a hilltop. At Hoiy Khae, a Hmong village on the west bank, 42 families lives in dirt-floored homes made of thatch and bamboo. They are an animist people who rely on shamans for their spiritual welfare. They dont keep a temple. They farm rice, corn, sesame and herbs. An impromptu markets sets up on our arrival, and two villagers spread their wares of hats and embroideries on blankets. We visit one house here, inhabited by 15 people, the house perhaps 10m long and 4m wide. A cooking fire heats a pot in one corner. An older woman prepares vegetables against one wall. Along the river, teak trees stand near villages, too valuable to exist as wayward wild trees, but planted and cultivated, and blooming now with pale yellow flowers clustered among the overly big leaves. At Kamu Lodge, our pilot steers the boat against a sand bank, and we climb the embankment, explorer-fashion, followed by porters and greeted by a line of villagers, clasping their palms in welcome. A woman presents me with a flower tucked in a small cone of a banana leaf. At the Kamu village of Yoi Hai, 84 families live by the river, most of them resettled here in 2000 after the government decided that the Kamu, who typically dwell in the mid highlands, should come down to the lowlands. Until then, it had been a Lao village, and six families chose to remain. They keep a temple, where a monk and two novices practice their methods. Twenty six of the Yoi Hai villagers work at Lodge, but everyone else lives by dint of the land, farming, gathering, hunting, fishing. They used to hunt with crossbows, firing poisoned arrows at small game in the area. But now the crossbows are only for fun. We try some of the fun at a shooting range at the Lodge, trying for a papaya on a post. None of us manages the target, but we do manage to plant some rice later in the Lodges paddies. We dont catch any fish, but we try our hands and arms on a circular net weighted around the perimeter by a light chain. Its not difficult to get the hang of it. You gather up the net, drape some of it over your forearm, hold the rig in a couple of places and then you swing your body and arc the works into the shallows. The weather today has been fitful, raining at breakfast, tapering off, then breaking up some. We had some light rain coming up the river, and then lots of blue sky and hot sun. The afternoons heat gives way to cloud cover in later afternoon, some thunder and light rain now as we near 6pm. Our journey, this day anyway, is done. Villa Maya: www.villa-maly.com Kamu Lodge: www.kamulodge.com

Turkish Airlines hopes to appeal to even more passengers travelling between Europe and Asia with the introduction of its innovative Comfort Class, a premium economy cabin like no other.

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