From Son Pot's Temple to Muang Khong

January 22, 2015

From Son Pot’s Temple to Muang Khong 33.25 miles

January 19, 2015

In the morning we thanked the head monk Son Pot and tried to give him some money for putting us up. We couched it in terms of a donation to the temple but still he would have nothing of it. He said, “No, no. I wish you to have a good journey. See you next time.” He was again enjoying smoking a cigarette but when I raised my camera to take a photo of him he threw it into the grass half smoked. Then he went running and got his camera and had his oldest novice take a group photo of the three of us. He directed me to give my camera to his novice to take a photo of us with my camera. This guy was organized and assertive. He got things done. That was actually one reason we chose that particular temple the night before; it looked neater than other temples and the novices were painting the front metal gate. Son Pot was a mover and shaker.

Head monk Son Pot and us in front of his wonderful guest house.
The dynamics: Son Pot is holding my hand while Andrea (a woman) is a respectable distance from him.

He was a little rushed that morning and I wondered why there hadn’t been drums in the wee hours and prayers at 6AM. In fact, there hadn’t been prayers in the evening either. All we heard was the TV in his quarters until about 7PM and then lights out silence. I always thought prayers were a requirement morning and evening. Son Pot seemed like the kind of guy who didn’t mess around with a lot of extraneous stuff. He was more pragmatic. He had plans.

The more I thought about it the more I realized the monks hadn’t even gone out begging in the morning and just as I was wondering what kind of ship Son Pot was running he told us that it was the fifteenth day after the full moon and everyone from the village was coming to the temple with offerings. I guess he was off the hook for not begging.

As we walked our loaded bikes along the sidewalk next to the meeting hall we realized for the first time that the entire village was already there wearing their Sunday best. We were in our day-old biking clothes and felt pretty shabby. Son Pot was right behind us bustling in to greet the community. Knowing a little how Son Pot operated I got the feeling that as soon as offerings and Buddhist rituals were out of the way he would conduct a town meeting. It seemed that Son Pot was indeed a very important person in town, something akin to mayor. If my suspicions were correct the community was probably in good hands.

Son Pot's temple straight-on through the front gate, the meeting hall to the left and the guest house behind the temple and to the left. And the newly painted white gate.

As we rode through tiny community after tiny community we kept seeing people in their best clothing setting out offerings, lighting incense and adhering gold leaf to funerary vaults which line the walls of temple compounds. I had no idea that the new moon day was the day to remember the dead. It’s a wonderful tradition to meet at the temple once a month first thing in the morning for both a spiritual experience and to discuss townspeople’s concerns. I think this is partly what is meant when people tell me that Buddhism is not a religion but a way of life. The vast majority of the people of S.E. Asian nations really do live Buddhist lives.

Dressed in their best and hand-in-hand mother and child make their way back home from the temple.

The funerary monuments which surround most temples in this region. They contain the ashes of the deceased and serve as head stones with names, birth and death dates.

Our ride was very similar to the day before; riding on trails along the river in front of houses and then occasionally riding the dusty road behind the houses. There were no ferry women though.

The poor don't have a lot of time , money or interest in making their homes beautiful. Even openings for windows are a luxury.

Homemade toys. When I was a painter I often wanted to do this with the roller rather than continue painting the walls.

We finally came across a guest house in Mounlapamok, a dirty crossroads and car ferry town. The red dust covered town was rough and disagreeable first entering it. Vehicles climbing the dirt expanse up from the ferry next to the main market were the cause of most of the dust. While an enormous and enormously overloaded truck made quite a noise getting up the hill we poked around the market. All we were interested in were some tasty looking Thai oranges but the inflated tourist price the woman insisted on was less tasteful. It was a very unlikeable place and we didn’t stay long but we did note the guest house so we could tell other bikers in case they were stranded in the area.

From there the road improved but was still dirt. It was only a few more miles and suddenly we were on a large, new, cement slab running right down into the river; the ferry to Don Khong for motorbikes and bicycles.

While crossing the river I had a difficult conversation with the ferryman getting him to understand where we had been with our bikes. He wanted to know and was asking all kinds of questions but all in Lao. I know much less Lao than Thai and I struggled. The noise of the engine didn’t help matters. But in the end he must have been impressed with our journey because I’m pretty sure he lowered the price of ferrying us by a third. It always helps to attempt the language.

As soon as we started riding on Khong Island it felt as if we had really made progress and come an obscure route. Don Khong is the biggest island of the Four Thousand Islands group where there is an actual town on the southeastern part, eight miles from the ferry.

We rode through a parched landscape with only a little bit of irrigation of the rice fields happening yet. Don Khong is so large an island that there are 100 foot high hills in the middle, also looking very parched. It wasn’t an exciting landscape and I wasn’t impressed with the maintenance of the road, although it was sort of paved.

The town of Muang Khong wasn’t exciting either but still, it was nice to have a shower and be right across the street from a string of good restaurants all deck-like, overhanging the Mekong. We were ready to relax and eat!! We celebrated with a beer (rare for us) and talked about how much we loved the route we had taken. It’s been a little bit of a challenge but it’s been worth the effort to avoid larger roads the entire way along the Mekong so far. We’ve been forced to take a few busy roads but for the most part we’ve been on really small ones and we’ve had a blast.

The nice area in front of our room which also overlooked the river.

Delicious breakfast of muesli, fruit and yogurt.

The Mekong from a restaurant in Muang Khong.

We’re now going to spend a few days eating and enjoying the Four Thousand Islands area where the Mekong spreads itself five miles wide, relaxing as well, before it drops wildly over a fault in the earth. It’s a gorgeous tropical paradise down here, a unique part of the world scrunched up against Cambodia where rare fresh water dolphins live. We feel as though we’ve come a good distance now. We have arrived!

Lovebruce

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