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Tha Khaek: Throw away your guidebook
While the guidebook says it’s called Sikhot Hotel, the sign out
the front says it’s Soksoomboon Guesthouse. While the guidebook
says it’s housed in a
former police station from the French era, the guesthouse
manager insists the building was formerly used by petty
government officials. We’ve just
arrived in Tha Khaek, the capital of Laos’s Khammuan Province –
and we’re throwing away our guidebook. Shown to our room in the cheaper, motel-style section of the
guesthouse, we settle comfortably into our socialist version of
art deco splendour: functional wooden furniture, fluorescent
lights, luscious red terry towelling bedspread, and the piece de
resistance: a naked blue light bulb over the bed. For 15 000 kip
a night (US$6) it will do fine. We escape the luxury for an afternoon wander around Tha
Khaek’s centre, and are surprised by the peaceful, somnolent
atmosphere. In fact, it’s laid back to the point of being almost
ghost-townish, with a dry fountain forming the focal point of the
square where only a handful of people roam aimlessly. In the cool
of the green canopy of trees lining several of the criss-crossed
main streets, the odd tuk tuk putters past, motorcycles zip
efficiently along and bicycles glide by, riders turning their
heads in curiosity. Few falangs, or westerners, stop here. The eclectic mix of architecture we observe is due to the
influences of various cultures over the decades. Although once an
outpost of the Funan empire, the town was largely constructed
during the French colonial period. Along with the stuccoed
buildings, the French have left behind a substantial Christian
population. It’s a surprise to see the cross of a Christian
church among the town’s Buddhist wats. Before the Pathet Lao took over in 1975, the population of the
town was, some estimates claim, up to 85 per cent Vietnamese.
They mingled with Thais from across the Mekong who frequented the
town to gamble and trade—and with economic reform in full swing,
the Thais are now returning in larger numbers than ever
before. With so many traders passing through Tha Khaek these days,
it’s a shame they have such an arduous task at hand when it’s
time for dinner—even if you can ask for your favourite dishes in
Lao, there aren’t too many places to oblige you. The Kulaap Daeng
(Red Rose) Restaurant has a menu in English of Lao, Thai and
Chinese food, and although the MSG doses here can be especially
generous, the selection is good. On the other hand, if you’re
keen for noodle soup, there are a variety of stalls along the
Mekong, while the fresh produce market has an excellent selection
of tropical fruit. Following a night spent listening to the cover band playing in
the night club next door to our guesthouse, we ask a tuk tuk
driver to take us to the collection of caves within limestone
outcrops to the east of town. We settle on a price of 15 000 kip
(US$6) and begin the bumpy 18 kilometre ride to the farthest of
the caves, Tham Nang Aen. We only have to get out of the tuk tuk
a few times to push it. Despite still being early morning, the humidity is becoming
stifling, so it’s a great relief to get to the first cave. It
features a cool breeze flowing from within, justifying its
popularity as a weekend destination for Laotians who just can’t
take anymore of the heat. A wooden resthouse is currently being
constructed at the entrance, and there’s a 2000k entrance fee.
Inside the impressively-sized cave staircases with odd twists and
turns take trippers to the more interesting formations. Green,
pink, yellow and blue fluorescent lights tucked away in corners
throw the limestone into funky relief, and a smoke machine
wouldn’t be too out of place. On our way out, the driver points out an array of cages to the
left of the cave entrance. Inside are a number of deer, an
intelligent monkey who poses obligingly for the camera, and a
slumbering porcupine—all part of the entertainment for
weekend-tripping Laos? There doesn’t seem to be any other
explanation. We hope that some of the entrance fee is going
towards improving the animal’s conditions. Our next stop is at Tham Pha Xang, a large cave leading on to
an open-air turquoise pond and further, inaccessible caves. A
multitude of small bats roost on the cool roof, squealing
ominously but keeping their distance. There’s also a small Buddha
shrine: our tuk tuk driver lights candles, perhaps we
irreverently think, requesting that his tuk tuk make it all the
way back to town. A surprise destination follows. The tuk tuk breaks down again
and our driver waves us along the road ahead. We discover a
small, emerald-green river, and can’t work out where the cave
we’re expecting is. Are we meant to swim across? The driver
catches up to us and explains that we’re at Tha Falang, or French
Pier, a spot the French colonialists used to come to relax at. We
strip off our money belts and dive in wearing our Lao
swimmers—that is, our clothes. Our driver plunges in after
us. By the time we walk the 30 metres back to the tuk tuk, we’re
literally steaming in the heat. Back on the road, we dodge
dopey-looking cows and seesawing goats. Finally, we stop at Tham
Pha Ban Tham, more of an overhang than a cave, where a Buddha
shrine is located. It’s surrounded by prayer flags, burnt joss
sticks and browning banana-leaf and flower arrangements, probably
leftovers from Lao New Year celebrated a fortnight before our
visit. We’re hot, thirsty and hallucinating about an afternoon
sipping Bia Lao, or Lao Beer, by the river, but our driver offers
to also take us to Wat Pha That Si Khotabong, eight kilometres
over the other side of town. We accept. One of the more important
wats in the country—hard to pick from the overgrown grass
surrounding it—the nineteenth century sim is supposed to feature
a revered Buddha. As the sim is firmly locked when we arrive, we
have to be satisfied with walking around the perimeter and
examining the unusual thaat, also highly revered, which features
a gilded lotus catching the glare of the afternoon sun. Back in town, there’s not too much left to do besides make our
hallucinations a reality, and while away the afternoon watching
the boats amble by. |
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All material copyright Samantha Brown 1997-2005 | ||||||||||||||
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