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NGO glamour

During the last couple of months I’ve been privileged to see some of the most beautiful locations of this planet. They happened to be some of the poorest as well.

I’ve also noticed how much of a difference a small contribution can make. A couple of local language books, for example. This can help a whole generation of kids to master their language better, an essential skill that no child should be deprived off.

I’ve then got difficulties containing my anger when I see the NGO (Non Governmental Organizations) driving around in top end 4 wheel drive cars. The cost of one of these is more than the cost of the books for hundreds of libraries.

I’ve heard all the counterarguments before: 
– The accident rate on the roads is very high. We need good quality cars to protect our staff.
And crush the locals because you drive twice as fast?

– We got a great deal with Toyota on these Landcruisers
Only on the 4 liter deluxe version and not on the ‘basic’ 3 liter version?

– I work on a research project. I’m not doing any of the practical stuff like helping children read.
If you’re sitting behind a desk all day, why does each of you need a four wheel drive?

I’ve seen a lot of villages and I specifically look for the poor ones. Where are you non-profit people? Why don’t I see you in the fields observing local work practices and enhancing them? Train people directly or train trainers? If I only think of all the billions a small country like The Netherlands spends and how much of lasting difference a ‘drop in the ocean’ would make for a country like Laos.

It makes me sick.

P.s. My apologies to all the hard working and committed NGO people who have a more ethical approach: this message is not for you

OMG: Chom Ong (part II)

Upon returning to Chom Ong village, I was lucky to join in a ‘village meeting’ (which basically meant that everybody drank rice wine until he/she dropped). And one thing is for sure: I will never master dances where everybody executes the same step sequence at the same moment and number of steps of the sequence is equal or greater than 10. 

The Lao village dance dances justifies a detailed description: men form an inner circle facing their female dance partner in the outer circle. There is no physical contact, nor eye contact. Surprisingly, the same song was played over and over and over again. Each time the song came up (1 out of 2 songs) an elderly bacherlorette was pushed towards me by family and friends. Leading to an awkward situation for both her and the guy who can’t dance Lao style (me).

This village has no access to electricity (an oversized lawnmower functioned as generator for the massive sound system), there are no stone houses and hasnt got any roads. 

The previous day I had already noticed some of the benefits of being so removed from civilization: no shops mean no plastic waste. All the food waste is quickly eaten by the dogs/pigs/chicken/ducks (whoever arrives first). People collect their food literally from the forest around them, and meat for dinner is a reason for celebration (or the other way round).

Such a tightly nit place comes with other benefits: no shame nor secrets. All kids under the age of 8 walk around naked and village people shower together (men and women separate) at the public shower in center of town. Cautiously, one of the English villagers speaking villagers I had ran into asked whether I didn’t shower. When I explained that I preferred showering in the morning, he nodded understandingly. Only the following day I understood his wonder: the outside temperature when i showered was 20 degrees lower and the water even colder. I should have known.





I had stayed a second night and that morning a villager explained me a different route to Udumxai. This insider’s route got me back in two hours (despite the light rain of that evening) and nearly without effort. Except for the time when my rear wheel fell between two bamboo poles that were part of a ‘bridge’ across a stream. 

All in all, an experience I won’t easily forget…

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OMG: Chom Ong cave (part I)

By now I consider myself a tough south east Asia motorbiker:
– drive in ice rain with fog on a deserted mountain pass: done it
– big city racing between 6 other motorbikes a massive truck and 2 tuktuk’s on a 3 lane way: been there
– drive for an hour to arrive at a dead end: so passé

However, I wasn’t prepared for this drive. Quickly after I left the village of Udumxai I felt the fever of the previous night return, with a vengeance. Stomach problems (for the first time since India) and dehydration at a temperature of 33 degrees without drinking water nearly completed the picture of a miserable physical state.

Not only had the road a total absence of traffic (=help in case of trouble) and villages an hour apart, the road was the most extreme until now. I will never forget the feeling of sitting on a nearly overheated motorbike, fully loaded with my backpack tied at the back and a daypack in the shopping basket on the front, driving in first gear up hill, losing traction and starting to slide backwards down the long muddy mountain flanked by cliffs.

Upon arrival at Chom Ong I had covered 40 km in 4 hours. I felt/was more dead than alive. I couldn’t find anybody at the  who spoke more than 2 words of English (literally). The amount of effort for conveying the words ‘sleep’ and ‘food’ made clear that the locals aren’t used to visitors and/or that I apparently suck at even the simplest of charades.

The question arises why I go through all this trouble. That became clear the following morning as I left at 60% strenght for Chom Ong cave. After an hour’s uphill hike we arrived at the entrance of the cave, which has only been surveyed in 2009, came equipped with a solar powered lighting system. What I saw inside was the most amazing sight of this trip: a perfectly lit cave of 15 meters high and around 40 meters high. I leave it up to the interested spectator to Google ‘Chom Ong cave’ to learn and see more. I can only say that the combination of the size, the silence, the illumination (and the darkness when you turn it off) is truly amazing. We (obviously) went beyond the fixed lighting and explored a substantial part of this 13km cave with my $1 torch and the flash-function of my iPhone (my guide didn’t have a flashlight).

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Horrible encounters

Until now I haven’t seen many horrible things during this trip. Sure, I’ve seen inhuman poverty, terribly mutilated people, but that changed just now.

For my first excursion in months, I joined up with a young French couple. After a tiring walk in sometimes bitter cold weather (despite 4 layers of clothing) we arrived at a hill tribe village. It was deep in the forest, over 40 km away from the nearest ‘city’ of 8.000 inhabitants. 

We decided to spend the night there, left our daypacks and continued to another one to ‘sample the atmosphere’. Once we arrived we noticed that this village was even poorer than the first one, the children more shy of strangers and the men and women still wore traditional clothes.

As it started raining (again) our guide took us to the central hut in the village where we were offered a cup of tea by the village chief. As we sat there drinking our tea, the chief asked the guide a question, who translated to me something like: ‘have medication, baby water?’. I had only taken plaster spray against blisters, so I responded negatively. I asked what the issue was, maybe I could help? I was then directed towards a room at the other side of the big hut and witnessed an imagine I will never forget.

In a smoke filled room a woman was cooking and a kid of a couple of years old lay on a couple blankets. Half his chest, his neck and part of his arms were covered in fresh 2nd or 3rd degree wounds, obviously caused by burning.

I asked again what happened. Apparently, the kid had been left alone and wanted some water… I stood there helpless. I asked the French trip mates, whether they had anything. Fortunately, they were better equipped than I was and had some materials for cleaning wounds and bandages. However, it was clear that the kid needed professional help. 

We asked if they had been to the hospital. They confirmed, but said that they didn’t like the treatment he received, as he had been in a lot of pain. We suggested several times that he should return for additional treatment. They ignored. After Claire, the French girl, had cleaned the wound and we had stood there watching the boy suffer, we left for the village where we would spend the night. Upon our departure we re-explained the necessity of keeping the wounds clean and left some money for hospital treatment if they’d change their minds.

Saddened, by our incapacity to make a more significant change in the life of the boy we walked ‘home’ in silence.

After a terrible massage and an even worse night sleep, our horrific adventure wasn’t over. We were packed up, ready to leave for our second day of trekking and doubting whether we should return to the kid when an even younger child was presented to us. This time the burning wound was much smaller (hand until elbow), but in addition to the blisters it was ‘decorated’ with a horrible yellow and green infection. I’m no doctor, but even I could see that it wasn’t looking good. The input was the same: keep the wounds clean, go to the hospital, the result as well: a combination of refusal and ignoring. 

His mother was delighted with the money we put in his not-burned hand.

Dramatic goodbye

The agenda for today was over 200 km on a motorbike, the last half on unpaved road. I had 25 km to go and decided to make a last stop for the final stretch. There was nothing remarkable about the place except for the warmth of their cola. 

When I asked for the bill you got dumped on my hand. I don’t even know what kind of animal you are. A monkey? You held on to me like an old man holds on to his stick: with all your strength, which didn’t amount to very much.

You had the hands and feet of a human, and surely you weren’t older than a couple of months. You were tired and fell asleep immediately.

It felt like an eternity together, but probably wasn’t more than 15 minutes. Our goodbye was terrible. You cried as I tried to loosen your grip. Your hands and feet outnumbered my left hand 4:1, so you didn’t let go. The shopowner was busy, so I could weep silently as I tried again.

I walked away without looking back.

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Summary of my trip

(quick way of catching up)

Hey, how are you doing?
I’m doing great: have been traveling since mid October

ok, sounds good: where have you been?
Iran, south of India, stopover in Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam and I’m now in Laos.

What have you been doing all this time?
Good question. I’ve been mostly in smaller towns in each country with the exception of Tehran. I travel quite slowly so I haven’t seen much. To give you an idea: I was in India for nearly two months and haven’t seen the Taj Mahal. It has been mostly about the ‘travel experience’ and less about seeing sights. I admit guilty to having ‘done’ Angkor Wat and Luang Prabang.

Some of these places are on the backpacker’s trail. Have you been sitting on beaches and going to crazy parties for days on end?
Not really. I relaxed a bit on the beach in Goa and just came from Vang Vieng where I did the ‘tubing’ down the river, but that’s it. Really.

What did you like best?
Ahaa, the eternal question and impossible to answer. I especially liked Iranians and the people from Kon Tum (Vietnam), I recommend a lengthy visit to an Ashram to almost anybody, Bokor Hill station isn’t worth the entire trip to Cambodia (but almost), learning how to kitesurf was great, driving a motorbike through Vietnam and Laos almost better.
 
How have you been traveling: boat? plane? Bike?
It really depends on the country. Up until Cambodia I’ve traveled almost exclusively by bus (except for two flights and two train rides). In Vietnam I bought a motorbike and haven’t set foot in a bus since.

Oh my god, are you having a midlife crisis?
Don’t worry, it wasn’t a Harley Davidson, a simple 8 year old scooter does it for me. 

Isn’t it dangerous driving around there?
Yup, that’s why I watch out (I promise mom!). Seriously, it’s quite ok. Traffic in Vietnam is much more hectic than Laos. My average speed is probably around 25 km / hour.

Have you done any sports?
Quite a bit: some windsurfing, catamaran sailing, loads of hiking and even learnt kitesurfing.

That sounds great, I wish I could do it, but I don’t have so much money and I might nit be able to find a good job afterwards.
The good news is you can. Traveling isn’t cheap and I haven’t been traveling low cost (not luxurious either), but 1.500 euro is more than enough for a month (including flights). My theory on jobs is pretty simple. Unless I was underqualified and overpaid in my previous job, I should be able to find something similar. Maybe I’ll take a small hit in salary or function (I’m convinced I won’t), but if I do it was definitely worth it.

What’s the plan?
There’s no fixed plan. But it’s going to look something like this: I’ll stay a bit in Laos before I go to Nepal to join my parents. In May and June I’ll visit 2 good friends in China and Australia (don’t worry guys: I won’t stay the whole month). And in July I hope to do some wintersport in either New Zealand or South America. In August / september I’ll be in the USA to visit some old friends from Dell. I’ve got no idea for the period afterwards.

So, you will come back in September?
I’ve got a craving for Africa and some lesser known countries. I don’t know whether I’ll be able to contain it…

Lucky day

Today was one of those amazing days. Absolutely gorgeous views of the scenery on my way here.

(sadly the picture doesn’t do it justice)

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I arrive in a fantastic unesco world heritage city (Luang Prabang) visa extension for Laos is a breeze and for dinner I meet two great couples, both equally well traveled and equally interesting jobs (goldsmiths and infrastructure development in 3rd world countries).

Most days I forget to be grateful for the great experiences on this trip, today my luck is to obvious to ignore.

You’re doing what?

Traveling around the world is great
I got to see more countries for a longer period than most people see in a lifetime. I’ve met more great people than I can remember, seen some of the most amazing sights of this this planet

 

But something was missing from my experience. My brain.
And to keep my brain busy, I’ve started a fun project: Building a website Why? Because I can (or at least that’s what I hope).

 

Is this your new job? Nah, it isn’t. I don’t expect to make any significant money from it. Just fun, see if I can do it, and so far so good.

 

How far are you ? Not that far, considering the amazing amount of time I’ve put in it. I’ve done the following until now:

  • Defined my niche (something with iPads)
  • Defined the solution I wanted to offer (iPad buying for people who don’t want to be bothered with megapixels and gigabytes)
  • Selected my main keywords (buying iPad, iPad price etc.)
  • Registered several domain names
  • Selected hosting provider and a package
  • Installed a content management system (WordPress) which allows me to maintain my site easily
  • Configured plugins for my CMS: SEO yoast, W3 cache, Google analytics
  • Chosen a design for my website and installed it
  • Set up a website structure (which is likely to change unfortunately)
  • Investigated a Content Delivery Network (CDN), but haven’t installed it yet
  • Started creating some content for the most important keyword combinations

And, are you liking it? For the time being: yes. Several things were much tougher than expected. I’ve spent hours messing around with W3 cache, but still haven’t configured it correctly. The design of the site is very ugly and you need even programming knowledge in order to setup something as simple as breadcrums (trust me, I’ve spent hours getting this fixed and I still haven’t been succesful). And last, but not least: creating great well hyperlinked content is very tough.

 

Why don’t you hire somebody to do all this stuff? It would take some of the fun away, but I might do it anyway if I
get frustrated and still believe in the idea.

 

So, what’s next? I’ll continue creating bits of content and wait for them to show up in Google. Then I’ll make a decision.

My trip is a failure!

I’m convinced my trip is a failure. None of the plans I make ever comes to fruition and I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.

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Hmm, maybe it’s because the circumstances change all the time. Which makes deviating from the original plan more sense.

And maybe because I wasn’t looking for something when I left it’s unlikely that I find something.

Failure is not an option has become ‘failure is good’.

🙂

A story of monks and cougars

It had already been a strange morning. My passport was still missing (see: https://gijsbos.com/bad-news-at-a-bad-moment ). I was at Lak Lake and had some time to kill while waiting/praying for it to arrive. I saw many boats on the lake and decided to rent one. As usual I didn’t want to take a tour and got a boat on my own. It was a freaking disaster. I thought that during my year in Oxford I had amassed some punting skills, but the opposite proved to be the case. I got stuck in somebody’s fishing nets, gave up on the poling and used the pole as a paddle. In the end, the owner, hugely upset, pulled me off the water as I had gone for a nap on the boat in the middle of the lake. Embarrassed, I left the village.

I was driving the motorbike along some paddy fields when I saw a little pagoda on a small hill. I decided to walk up there and was greeted by an elderly lady. She showed me around as an important looking monk was talking with a couple. Later we were joined by a younger monk. None of us spoke a word of each other’s language and still we had a great time. After an hour I hardly dares to look anywhere as everywhere I laid my eyes on was immediately offered to me.

I had to leave for a couple of hours to solve the passport issue and when I returned the pagoda was completely deserted. Except for one young Vietnamese girl who was chanting in the pagoda and regularly hitted a massive bell like there was no tomorrow (ear damage guaranteed). When the other monks returned and we had finished a delicious dinner, they indicated that I should wash my face. When I returned a group of about 30 elderly people had gathered, all dressed in grey monk-like-habit clothes. They were delighted to see me. I got a habit dress as well (fortunately no pictures) and we all went for chanting in the pagoda. Obviously I didn’t know any of the lyrics and the book I was given didn’t help much either. My contribution there was limited to reducing the average age by 4 years and increasing the average hight by 4 centimeter. When the cross-legged sitting had been giving me cramps for longer than I wish to remember, the impressive ceremony came to close.

At least, that’s what I thought. The ceremony was over, but the spectacle for the elderly people had just begun. I was seated at a long table, given some fresh fruit and the second ceremony had could begun. Every movement, part of my body or uttering from my mouth was discussed at length in Vietnamese by the whole group of oldtimers. Especially my nose, received the warm attention of everybody. After a marriage proposal (at least that’s how I interpreted them) or two by ladies twice my age, the pleasant torture came to an end. 

Even the early hour (20.30) and the cold floor as a bed couldn’t prevent me from falling asleep quickly and happily. The End.