BEAUTIFUL DANCE OF KHMER WOMEN

An Apsara dancer strikes an elegant pose

The beautiful young ladies are adorned with gold necklaces, and gold earrings. Gold armbands, and gold bracelets are worn on both wrists and ankles. Gold trim is woven throughout their elegant dresses, colored blue, red or yellow. A bright yellow flower sits over each ear as they dance.

Their headdresses are also gold with studded, circular layers rising above them like a bent Buddhist stupa. Some headdresses look like those seen on topless dancers carved into the walls of the temple of Angkor Wat, that I saw earlier. The dancers on stage before me are all young Khmer women, but the only thing that looks modern about them, is their bright red lipstick.

I'm at the Temple Restaurant in Siem Reap, enjoying an upstairs dinner show. The gold may not be real, but the dance is authentic: this is Apsara. It's unlike any dancing you'll ever see in the west; it has the charm of an Asia that was lost centuries ago.

This ancient art was nearly lost after the communist Khmer Rouge banned it

For those who don't know any better, they might think that these dances and costumes are from old Siam, a.k.a. Thailand. But it's better not to say that to the Khmers. They'll tell you that many centuries ago that the Thais copied them from Khmer dancers of the ancient Angkor kingdom.

The only western dance that looks anything similar to this, is classical ballet. Apsara movements are slow, deliberate, and beautiful. Foreigners quickly notice the women's hands; their thumb and forefinger touch together. The remaining three fingers are pulled back, with each succeeding finger pulled further back. The flexibility of the fingers on these dancers is amazing.

The dancers never smile, keeping their red lips together for the entire performance. Like ballet, their dances and movements tell stories; classical Khmer stories about life and love.

As I watch mesmerized, a traditional Khmer band plays acoustical string instruments, while old style drums keep the beat.

Apsara dancing was often performed for Khmer royalty

Slow and elegant, one dancer balances on only one foot, and pivots around, keeping her other foot elevated. The display of balance and control is amazing. At times this style resembles Hawaiian hula dancing, without the hip movements.

This beautiful Khmer dance tradition was nearly lost from Cambodia forever. When the communist Khmer Rouge took over, Apsara dancing was banned. Nearly all of the master teachers of Apsara were either executed, died from disease, or fled Cambodia.

Later after the radicals were forced from power, a cultural revival began. A few surviving refugee dancers returned to Cambodia. With a princess's support, this traditional dance began to be taught again in Phnom Penh. Slowly but surely, Apsara made a comeback.

Now Apsara is popular once again, and dancers regularly perform for royalty, for Khmer audiences, and for tourists like me. 

Despite all the tragedies that Cambodia has endured, it's good to know that one of their most treasured cultural traditions still survives today. 

HIDDEN WEAPONS AND LAST AMERICAN PIRATES

Lion Circle in beach town of Sihanoukville

Two giant golden lions, stand atop a great red pedestal, looking to the horizon. They are rather unique looking cats, with oblong shapes. Strangely, the male lion has a ball in his mouth, and wears large eyelashes, while the female lion next to him has none.

This is Lion Circle, a main traffic roundabout in Sihanoukville on Cambodia's south coast. A drunk Canadian recently crashed his scooter into this roundabout. He suffered serious head injuries, and lost a toes. Like other foreign tourists, he came here to enjoy the beaches, as Cambodia has few other beach town options. 

An odd thing about Sihanoukville is that it isn’t one town, it’s really four or five villages on a peninsula that have grown together. Too distant to visit on foot, I decide to rent a motorbike, strap on a helmet, and rev off to cruise the streets and beaches. 

Motoring around town, I notice there are few of the decaying French colonial homes like I'd seen in Phnom Penh. As Sihanoukville isn't an old town, most buildings were built recently. It wasn't always called Sihanoukville either; before the 1950's it was known as Kompong Som, then renamed after their beloved King Sihanouk. After he was kicked out of power in a coup, it was changed back to to Kompong Som. Then in the 1990’s, it was re-re-named Sihanoukville again. That's Cambodia.

Why does the male lion have eyelashes, and not the female?

Cruising the west end of town, I head along the coast. Passing a few small restaurants, I slow as I come to the port. Sihanoukville is Cambodia's only deep water port, first built in 1960 with French aid. Since the wars the port has gone through modernization. In the distance I can see large orange cargo cranes on the docks, though only two ships are docked today. This little port isn't much by global shipping standards, but Sihanoukville gave the US government major headaches during the Vietnam War era.

It was not well known at the time, but back in the 1960's, Sihanoukville played a key role in the communist war effort. Although publicly claiming neutrality, Sihanouk made a secret deal with North Vietnam. Starting in 1966, he allowed cargoes of communist weapons into this port. The weapons were then sent overland across the border to the Viet Cong, for use against American troops in South Vietnam. This route became known as the Sihanouk Trail, and by 1970 about 80% of the weapons for communist rebels in South Vietnam were passing through here. So much for Sihanouk's claim of neutrality. 

Aside from communist bribes, I wondered why Sihanouk agreed to allow this weapons pipeline. An accusation I heard from a bitter old Cambodian fighter that I met may explain it. He told me that Sihanouk cut a secret deal with Ho Chi Minh. Sihanouk agreed to allow North Vietnam to send troops and weapons across Cambodian soil, to infiltrate South Vietnam. In return, Ho Chi Minh promised Sihanouk that after North Vietnam had won the war in South Vietnam, he would give the Mekong Delta back to Cambodia. Years later, when Uncle Ho was on his deathbed, he told his comrades that after Vietnam was reunited, no matter what happened, they should never follow through on his promise. 

Port of Sihanoukville, former center of weapons smuggling (photo: Wikipedia)

This sleepy port of Sihanoukville was the scene of a rare 20th century act of piracy, and this also involved the USA. Today we tend to think of modern pirates as being from Somalia, but in this case, it was two American pirates! Even more surprising, is that the two hijacked an American ship!

March 14th of 1970 may have been the date for the world’s first known act of protest piracy. Two leftist American protesters who were against the Vietnam War, hijacked a 7,500 ton US freighter called the Columbia Eagle. The ship's cargo was $10 million in aircraft bombs, headed to a Thailand port. These bombs would later be sent onward to US bases, to be dropped on communist targets in Southeast Asia.

The Columbia Eagle, once hijacked by 2 American protest pirates. (Viet Arch photo)

The two hijackers were crewmen on the ship; Clyde McKay and Alvin Glatkowski, a pair of radicals from California. Using a bogus bomb threat to trick most of the crew onto lifeboats in the Gulf of Thailand (they were picked up later), they forced the captain at gunpoint to sail for Sihanoukville. On arrival, they asked for political asylum.

The plan of the pirate pair was quickly foiled, and the two radicals were jailed. Cambodian authorities allowed the ship to disembark soon after, with its lethal cargo intact. Later that year McKay, and a US Army deserter jailed with him named Larry Humphrey, managed to escape confinement in Phnom Penh. Then they disappeared. Some said that McKay ran away to join the Khmer Rouge, while others said that he settled as a farmer in eastern Cambodia.

Alvin Glatkowski's mugshot (photo: SDPD)

It would be many years before the outside world found out what happened to the ex-pirate and the deserter. Nearly two decades later, some of their buried teeth and fillings were recovered, by a mission team that was searching for the remains of missing US journalist Sean Flynn. Both McKay and Humphrey had been executed in 1971 by the Khmer Rouge, in the town of Boi Met. Given the violence of the Khmer Rouge era, their fate was predictable.

For Glatkowski’s part, he had his own ordeal to survive. He spent time in a Cambodian mental institution. He asked the Soviet Union for political asylum, but was denied. With nowhere else to go, he turned himself in to the US Embassy. He was flown back to the US, where he spent five years in prison. 

His story was no 'Pirates of the Caribbean' fable, but at least he lived to tell the tale.

PALACE DOWNFALL - ROYAL DEATHS

Buddhist stupas and memorials in the royal palace

I'm continuing my visit to the Phnom Penh's royal palace. This luxurious compound was best known as the home of King Sihanouk, Cambodia's most famous monarch.

Passing through a palace gateway, my view is filled with a whole new courtyard filled with memorials and Buddhist structures. Interspersed between carefully manicured trees, are numerous pagodas, Buddhist temples and shrines. At a few of them, Cambodians and monks in bright orange robes are praying. 

At the center of this peaceful courtyard, is the silver pagoda. This houses numerous statues of Buddha, made not only of silver, but also gold. Some are encrusted with diamonds. It’s a small miracle that these weren’t looted by the Khmer Rouge when they took over the palace; these must have been hidden away during those dark years. Many other treasures were taken away by them though. 

Controversial ex-King Sihanouk (photo: Wikipedia)

Some of these memorial stupas, are for deceased royalty, but the final resting places for many of Sihanouk’s own royal family remain unknown to this day. That was due to the King's complicated, and failed, relationship with the communist Khmer Rouge. 

It was Sihanouk who years back, coined the term ‘Khmer Rouge’, which meant ‘Red Khmers’. Nobody could have known then, that the Khmer Rouge would eventually become the most murderous communists in world history.

Way back in the 1960's, the communist movement that grew in neighboring Vietnam crossed the border into Sihanouk’s own kingdom. As the US war in Vietnam escalated, Sihanouk publicly declared Cambodia to be neutral in that conflict. Meanwhile, he did little to stop the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese Army, who had almost free range of Cambodia’s eastern provinces, moving troops and arms down the Ho Chi Minh Trail. Sihanouk's refusal to confront the Vietnamese communists, greatly frustrated the US government who were fighting them at the time.

While Cambodia stayed out of the Vietnam conflict, Khmer communists began to appear on the scene. In those early years, they didn’t pose a serious threat to the country, and the king and his security forces fought to keep them down. Sihanouk was far more popular with the people than the communists, who brought with them some strange foreign political ideology imported from Vietnam and China. 

Gardens surround the royal memorials

As the wars raged next door in Vietnam and Laos, Sihanouk turned away from politics and began to spend his time on another occupation: film making! He became a movie director, making movies in Cambodia. He also took a major interest in jazz music. Given the growing crisis in Cambodia, Sihanouk was appearing increasingly out of touch with what was happening within his own nation’s borders. 

Finally in 1970, while Sihanouk was out of the country, he was ousted in a coup. The putch was led by a general named Lon Nol, amid rumors of American involvement.

Sihanouk stayed in exile, where the monarch made another move that few would have expected.

The king allied himself with the Khmer Rouge! Joining his former enemies, Sihanouk soon made radio broadcasts urging his subjects to also join up with the radical communist rebels.

If there was any American involvement in the coup which had forced out Sihanouk, it had backfired. Thousands of Khmer men from all across Cambodia left for the countryside to join the rebellion. These young men new little about communism; they had joined the KR to fight for their king.

Later after the Khmer Rouge victory, Sihanouk was declared head of state. Still in exile in China, he begged the Khmer Rouge leadership to allow him to return to Phnom Penh. The KR leaders eventually allowed it, but Sihanouk would soon regret coming back at all.

Palace murals were ruined by weathering and neglect

The king became a prisoner right here, in his own palace. Stripped of all power, he was still technically head of state, but he was only a figurehead. The Khmer Rouge central committee held all the power. Sihanouk had been used by the Khmer Rouge, and now he was powerless to help his people, or himself. 

Ending his life of privilege, the KR took away all of his royal servants. His wife and son Sihamoni had to take over the cooking and cleaning of the palace residence. The former queen and humbled prince, were now their own housekeepers.

Many still wonder why Sihanouk made such a foolish political move. When he was still Prime Minister, his security forces had killed more than 1,500 Khmer Rouge. Did he really think that the KR leaders would forgive him, trust him, and make him a full partner? Was it arrogance, or was it just plain stupidity? Like so many men who who were hungry for power, Sihanouk had tried to hang onto power for too long.

Many palace buildings are restored

Once the Khmer Rouge won power, they went to work eliminating their remaining rivals. So they executed many Khmer princes and princesses - Sihanouk's own relatives. They would have killed King Sihanouk as well. But due to pressure from their main patrons, the Chinese government, the KR never went through with it.

As I'm about to leave the palace, I pass a traditional Khmer percussion band, playing drums, gongs, and xylophone-like instruments. Given the luxurious buildings I’ve just seen, I can’t help but notice the immense contrast to the world outside. The king and the rest of the elite continue to live in luxury, while the people of Cambodia remain among the poorest in Asia.

Outside the palace walls are two of the King’s royal guards, standing attentively at yellow guard shacks. I’m surprised at their uniform though. They wear fancy white dress coats, with old American style helmets, also painted white. Their trousers are blue, and they wear US style combat boots. I hold back a snicker as I notice that the coat on one guard, looks to be at least two sizes too big for him.

Both sentinels stand guard holding old American M-16s, with fixed bayonets. Neither have ammunition clips in their rifles. If this old palace is ever attacked again, the best these two could do is try to stab someone! It’s a good metaphor for the present monarchy itself. These days, kings in Cambodia have no real political power. Although impressive looking, they are outdated.

Palace royal guards, with unloaded weapons

When the communist years ended and the monarchy was revived in the 1990's, Sihanouk was declared king once again. However by that time, the old monarch was more of an adviser than power player. His days at the peak of Khmer power were long over. A democratic election, and later a coup, would determine the country’s real leadership.

In 2004, after being in and out of the Cambodian political scene for most of his life, the old king did the unexpected again. 

He abdicated! 

To succeed him, his son the prince was chosen, the present King Sihamoni. The new king had been an ambassador, and a dance teacher in Europe. 

Sihanouk finally died in 2012 at the ripe old age of 89. Despite his failures, many Khmers remained faithful to him to the end. Others despised him for leading the country into death and destruction under the Khmer Rouge. 

He remains the most controversial political figure in Cambodia's history. 

MAGNIFICENT PALACE OF CAMBODIA'S KING

The impressive throne room in the King's Palace, Phnom Penh

Back when I was in Vietnam, I saw what little remained of their pre-colonial royal kingdom. There were only the meager remains of a palace in Hue, and that had been destroyed years ago.  

Over in Laos, the last king's residence in Luang Prabang was a palace in name only. It was really only a cheap wooden substitute.  

Here in Phnom Penh, the king has a palace that Laos and Vietnam can only envy. Today I’m entering his palace, for a view of Cambodia’s royal world. 

Despite years of war and political instability in Cambodia, the monarchy still survives. Under the current constitution, Cambodia is a ‘kingdom’, (with some semblance of democracy.) Although no longer powerful, the king of the Khmers still has official ceremonial functions, and remains an integral part of traditional Cambodian life. 

Only a block from the river, I walk in the gate, and I’m awed. The royal palace complex is certainly the most elaborate and luxurious looking place in all of the captial. I’m surrounded by glorious buildings, as though transported to an ancient Asian past. Fantastic Khmer architecture is decorated with gold trim. Rooftops are peaked with stupa like towers. Colorful gardens are meticulously trimmed. Stylish French streetlights line the pathways. 

Old photo of King Sihanouk on palace platform, where king reviews parades

The first palace on this site was built in the 1400’s, with the present layout finished in 1870. About a third of the royal palace grounds are open to visitors like me, with the current king and his entourage occupying the rest. I gaze around at this magnificent site, the stuff of dreams. 

Approaching one of the larger buildings, I’m looking at what may be the most fantastic looking edifice in all of Cambodia. This may not be as well known as Angkor Wat, but it looks more spectacular. This is the throne room, a place of ceremonies and royal traditions. One of the larger palace buildings, this is where the current Cambodian king and those before him, had their coronation ceremonies. It shows the glory of traditional Khmer architecture, although it was rebuilt in the early 20th century. 

Khmer style towers, reach high into the sky, narrowing to pointed spires. The center tower has a large white face built into it, as if the spire is a tall ceremonial hat. Reaching to 180 feet high, I wonder whose face it is; probably the face of Buddha, or a Khmer king. Thin white pillars stretch around the long building. Golden snake-like naga heads rise from every corner of numerous rooftop layers. I’ve never seen that many nagas on one building. I can count 29, and that’s only from this side of the structure. Fanciful colors of gold, yellow, red, white, and green, present an image of royal grandeur. 

Workers lacking safety lines renovate palace building

Inside sits the golden throne of Cambodia’s current monarch. In addition to the rare coronation ceremonies, the king accepts the credentials of foreign diplomats from this throne, one of his official ceremonial duties. 

The throne room was finished in 1919 during French rule, when King Sisowath was the Khmer puppet ruler. An older wooden throne room built here before on this site,  wasn’t holding up to the tropical weather, or the aging process. 

Walking to the far side of the immense building, I’m surprised to see repairs underway by workmen on scaffolding, scraping away old paint. Scaffolding is a relative term; they are standing on bamboo poles lashed together, with few platforms for stability. All of the workers, men and women, wore neither safety harnesses, nor hard hats. Some wore the traditional red Khmer scarf wrapped around their heads like turbans. More worked on levels above, even from the towers on the roof. There were no harnesses at all. 

As they labored above, I wondered how often there were accidents on these sites from the lack of safety precautions. If these workers fell, how much, (or how little) would they receive for disability?

Many buildings need renovations

Repairs on this old palace complex have been going on for years. In fact, the palace and the previous king only barely survived the communist Khmer Rouge era. That monarch, Cambodia’s most famous leader, was known throughout the world as King Sihanouk. 

Born as a prince during the colonial era, Norodom Sihanouk was small of stature, with a notably high pitched voice. Handpicked by the French, they installed him as a figurehead king at the young age of 19. The colonials thought that his youth and inexperience would make him a fitting puppet king that they could easily control. 

They were wrong. 

Instead, Sihanouk became the country’s greatest advocate for independence. He eventually led Cambodia to freedom from French rule, not through violent rebellion, but through political maneuvering and peaceful negotiations. Cambodia became independent from France in 1953, even before Vietnam did. It was freedom from the French without communist revolution, and the Khmers adored him. Sihanouk soon became Prime Minister, and he would lead Cambodia for 17 years.

The popular king led his country on a peaceful path for as long as he could. But Cambodia and its king would later be overwhelmed by events far beyond his control. The Vietnam War would soon spill over its borders, bringing the king and his country down with it. 

King Sihanouk on visit to China (Archive photo)

KING'S FATE IN JUNGLE PRISON

High altitude town of Sam Neua, where clouds pass below the peaks

Fast moving clouds flow quickly across the valley before me. I am so high up in altitude, that clouds are passing beneath the foliage covered peaks beyond. Just another beautiful morning in the Annamite Mountains of Laos, in the remote northeastern town of Sam Neua.

I admire the view in this obscure town, but I’m not staying. I’m only passing through, waiting to board a truck this morning heading further east. Growing impatient, I climb into the front passenger seat to wait. Looking down on the floor by my feet, I find an old US made ammunition case! Opening it up for a look, it's full of tools. It may be rusty, but ammo cases make great tool boxes.

Finally the driver gets in and we depart, driving east into the mountains. Outside town we pass a walled compound with new buildings, and looking in I notice a couple of Russian made military jeeps parked inside. 

During a chance meeting with a relative of the Vice-Governor, I was told me who’s in that compound. 

Old US made ammo case in my ride

“That Vietnam Army base,” the relative told me. 

Curious at the presence of Vietnamese troops still in Laos, I asked, "Why is that base there?"

“To protect the border,” he answered. 

Hmmm... We’re not that close to the border; by road it’s three hour's drive. If they are here to ‘protect the border’, then why are they based so deep inside Laos? I remember the Vietnamese 'general' that I had met on a train to Hanoi. He said he was based on the border, was he based here?

Back during the war, one of the rallying cries for the Pathet Lao rebels, was to put an end to ‘foreign interference’ in Laos. Those who actually believed in this idea were betrayed by the communist leadership after the war. 

When the Vientiane agreement was signed in 1973, all foreign troops were agreed to be withdrawn, and the American advisers and Thai troops left soon afterwards. The North Vietnamese Army on the other hand, remained. In the post war years, Vietnamese influence continued, and so did the presence of Vietnamese troops. As I’ve just seen on the road, that presence continues to this day, although in smaller numbers. 

New bridge in Sam Neua, Laos. Most of the workers are Vietnamese, not Laotian.

The Laotian government’s dependence had merely shifted. They were no longer reliant on America, they became reliant on Vietnam. Even with the cold war is over, some of that reliance continues. Fortunately, most of that reliance is now sent as economic aid, rather than military aid. 

I recall how back in Sam Neua the previous day, I had seen a new bridge under construction over the Xam River. This aid project is led by a Vietnamese construction company, and the laborers were Vietnamese. I had asked a local Laotian about them, and she admitted that those men weren’t very popular here. One thing hasn’t changed over the years; most Laotians continue to dislike the Vietnamese. 

As my Laotian ride takes me deeper into rugged Houaphan Province, I think back to my time in Luang Prabang, and the fate of the last Laotian king. His final years were spent somewhere in this region, in a secret jungle prison. In those post-war years, the bamboo gulags of Houaphan held more than 15,000 prisoners. They were former soldiers, policemen, government officials, and others that had opposed the communists. Some who held high positions were imprisoned for 15 years. Some never left alive. 

The king died in a jungle prison (photo:RLA)

These camps were located in this poor region by the communists, so that they could punish the prisoners through primitive living conditions. In some cases, prisoners were even forced to build their own internment camp! The remote location was also strategic. If a prison camp was located anywhere in western Laos, escape would have been easier with Thailand close by. Since the communists put the prison camps on the eastern border, escape to Thailand was nearly impossible. Anyone escaping east across the border to Vietnam, would probably be quickly captured and sent back to Laos. 

Those imprisoned here never had a trial, and were denied their rights. The Geneva Convention didn’t exist in Laos. Days were filled with hard labor, endless indoctrination sessions, and poor food. Some were executed. Others died of mistreatment, or from denial of medical care. If a prisoner didn’t survive, the government didn’t even give their family an official explanation as to how they had died. I wonder if any of these same prisons ever held any of the American soldiers that were missing in action (MIA) after they disappeared during the war. 

The most secret of these prisons was Camp 5, the gulag for highest level prisoners that were never released. It’s believed that the Laotian royal family were imprisoned there. The king, queen, and two princes died in the camp, and how they actually died was never explained to the public. It's believed that King Sisavang Vatthana died in 1980, from mistreatment, and from denial of medical care. The location of their graves remains secret to this day. Later accounts say the royal family are buried somewhere out here in unmarked graves, much as the Bolsheviks hid the bodies of the Romanoffs. 

Mountains that sheltered communist HQ during the war

In this post cold war era, almost all of the old prison camps in this region have been shut down, but unlike in Vietnam, there is no public access allowing me to see the old prisons that are no longer in use. Not all of these bamboo gulags have been closed though, there are still some prisoners held here, hidden from the outside world. Some sent here recently, were prisoners of conscience. 

When democracy movements began sweeping across Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union, some Laotians in high places began to push for democratic reforms. Much like his patrons in Vietnam and China, the old commie Kaysone squashed any attempt at democracy. Three intellectual government reformists were arrested In 1990, and quickly imprisoned. They included the Vice-Minister of Economics and Planning, Vice-Minister of Science and Technology, and a Justice Ministry official. All were sentenced to 14 years imprisonment in one of the old Houphan labor camps. One of the reformists died in prison in 1998, due to a lack of medical care. The open war in Laos is over, but the secret war against democracy continues.

As our truck rumbles along, the rural landscape opens up, revealing a group of karst mountains to the south. From my distant perspective, I can’t help but think that they resemble a giant six pack of beer. I’m unaware of their significance, but these mountains are my destination. Those towering peaks are Viengxay, and during the war this was the most important stronghold of the communist Pathet Lao Army. I'll be arriving soon. 

RAINING ON THE RED PRINCE

I'll have a Coca- cola to go... in a bag??

A double rainbow, what a rare sight. Having just left my guesthouse, I’ve stepped out into the quiet afternoon streets of Luang Prabang, Laos. I’ve seen the colorful phenomena of twin arches only a few times in my life. I feel a good day ahead of me; I turn and head towards the Mekong River. 

On my way, the precipitation that brought the rainbows returns, and the clouds loosen into a steady rain. I quicken my steps, and take shelter in a small roadside drink stand. It’s not much; tables and benches are made of scrap lumber. But it’s dry inside, and with the rain turning into a deluge, I stay for a while. I’m not that worried about the downpour; most monsoon showers don’t last very long. Besides, I prefer the rainy season here in Luang Prabang. In the dry season, the air here is terrible. Since local farmers still practice slash and burn agriculture, the air becomes filled with acrid smoke from burnt brush, with the skies always hazy. I’ll take the rainy season, thank you. 

The lady vendor in this drink stand doesn’t speak English, but I make do with hand motions and order a soda. Reaching into an ice cooler, she removes a glass bottle of cola. But instead of handing it to me, she opens it and pours the contents into a clear plastic bag! After inserting a straw, she seals the bag's top with a rubber band. 

I had forgotten about this little ritual. This is the usual Southeast Asian manner of dispensing a soda to go. By doing it this way, she keeps the glass bottle to return for deposit. 

A tribute to the 'Red Prince' on his 100th birthday... but where are the crowds??

Soon the rain relents, and I resume my walk along Luang Prabang’s red brick sidewalks. Despite wet streets, this is a great place for a stroll. The scenic town has well preserved French villas, friendly folks, and a laid back lifestyle. As the former capital, it retains some of the old allure that the rest of Southeast Asia has lost.

While wandering the streets, I chance upon a statue and park dedicated to President Souphanouvong, a.k.a. the 'Red Prince'. It’s a new looking park, and it appears that I’ve just missed some kind of public event. There are fresh flowers and colorful ribbons strung about everywhere. Perhaps the rain chased everyone away. 

An impressive display of old photographs depicts Souphanouvong’s career as a communist. A new billboard bears the likeness of the former Prez, and lists his birthday, which is today. He died years ago but by coincidence, I found his memorial park on what would have been the Red Prince’s 100th birthday.

The ex - President, with frozen applause

That explains all the decorations. I have arrived here just after an official government ceremony commemorating his birth. I look up at his brown likeness, and it’s an odd pose for a statue. The Red Prince seems to be frozen in the midst of applauding. Yet he applauds alone. On his centennial anniversary, I am now the only person in the entire memorial park. If his well wishers left due to the rain, nobody has returned. 

Government officials were here for the ceremony, but with their departure, there are no other Laotians here paying tribute to his memory, fans or otherwise.

I saw far more people visiting the royal palace of his cousin, the king, that Souphanouvong had helped his communist comrades to depose. 

Apparently people have a lot more interest in old kings, than they do in old communists. 

PALACE OF THE DOOMED KING

This was the palace for the King of Laos, in the years before communism

I'm outside an unusual looking building, and what I’m seeing is not what I expected at all. With its long white layout, topped by a red tiled roof, this appears to be some sort of important auditorium. Two architectural features hint at the importance of this landmark. High on the rooftop, a narrow golden stupa points to the sky. Just above the main entrance, there is a golden, three headed elephant. This emblem is a mark of royalty, and once adorned the Royal Lao flag. 

This happens to be the palace of the last King of Laos. 

Nearing the palace, I see where the visual peculiarities come from. Its exterior is a mixture of two vastly different styles of architecture, French and Laotian. Doors and the shutters are French, but the roof is Asian. Snake-like naga figures protect the palace corners, while the stupa shaped spire peaks up to the center of the rooftop.

This architectural blend is not surprising, since the royal residence was constructed for the king by the occupying French colonials in 1904. Laos was such a poor country when the French took over, that the royal family couldn’t even afford to build a decent palace. 

Ornate decor in a Buddhist shrine on the royal palace grounds

The Laotian line of royalty reached back six centuries, and the country wasn’t always so poor. There were several ancient kingdoms. The most powerful was called 'Lane Xang', based here in the town of Luang Prabang. At its zenith, Lane Xang’s territory included not just northern Laos, but also parts of Thailand, China and Vietnam. These same three neighboring countries would later dominate Lane Xang in succeeding centuries.

This may not be the most picturesque palace from the outside, but what lies within is more impressive, so I climb the front steps to enter. Waiting my turn to buy a ticket, two European backpackers ahead of me complain that the three dollar admission price is too high! I wonder why they bothered traveling thousands of miles to see this exotic land, if they are bickering about spending a few dollars to see one of the most cherished places in all of Laos. 

Once inside, I make my way into the throne room, where King Sisavang Vong held court. Here I get a sense of royal luxury; the décor is impressive. Gold trim lines the royal pillars. Red ceilings and red walls, make way for colorful mosaics depicting everyday life in old Luang Prabang. France is again represented, with their crystal chandeliers. When the French built this place Laos was already a French colony, so the display of opulence was not a true reflection of the king’s power. Still, the king remained an important part of the Laotian identity, culture and religion.  

Without any need to hold court in this royal room anymore, golden cases with Buddha statues and ceremonial swords are displayed around the room. But the main focus is the throne itself. From a distance, the royal chair appears to be made of gold all around, save for the royal purple seat cushions. Behind where the king’s head would have been, is the royal symbol of three gold elephants. Three levels of mythical nagas heads seem coiled and ready to strike, as if to protect the king. I'd love to take photos in here but if I do, they'll confiscate my camera. 

Statue of King Sisavang Vong of Laos

The monarch that held court here, King Sisavang Vong, died in 1959 as Laos entered another period of conflict. He was replaced by his son, King Savang Vatthana. This succession occurred in an era when the world's monarchies were quickly disappearing. At the funeral, the king’s heir was heard to say, “Alas, I am doomed to be the last king of Laos.”

Although he replaced his father as the monarch, King Savang Vatthana chose to delay the coronation ceremony until the war ended, so in the end he was never crowned on this throne. By the time Savang became king Laos was independent, and the reins of power were again connected to the royal family. Prince Souvanna Phouma, the king’s cousin, would become the on again, off again Prime Minister of Laos, as he struggled to keep the country together during the war years fighting the communists. 

Taking the other path was Souvanna Phouma’s half brother, Prince Souphanouvong. Here was a unique figure. As a prince, he became one of the few royals in world history who became a committed communist. He left the good life of Luang Prabang, and went to the highlands to join the Pathet Lao. He became known as, ‘The Red Prince’. Souphanouvong took a Vietnamese woman as his wife, endearing him to his communist patrons in Hanoi. If he was to remain true to the monarchy, he would have married a Laotian. 

Over in a nearby reception room, a red embroidered wall hanging bears dragons and a phoenix. This was a gift from Hanoi, presented to King Savang in 1963. What an insincere gift. More than any other country, it was North Vietnam that would bring about the downfall of the Royal Laotian Government, and this king with it. 

I meander to the back of the palace, where the royal residence is located. Some of the palace rooms appear much as they did as the day when the king was arrested. In the dining room, Wooden chairs with wicker seats surround an antique table, beneath another French chandelier. Here over dinner, the king discussed affairs of state with his princes. 

The King's tennis court, which hasn't been used in decades

The old wooden floors creak, as I reach the separate bedrooms of the king and queen. It’s 1970’s era furniture, mixed with Asian accessories. Black and white portraits of the royal couple still hang on the walls. The king’s bed has mosquito netting over it, a reminder that even royalty worried about malaria here. The royal rooms give the feel of undisturbed time capsules. 

Outside the king’s bedroom in the hall, I take a seat by an open window, listening to the light rain falling through the tropical trees outside. I wonder if the king ever sat here to collect his thoughts by this window, as the drama of Laos unfolded. As the end neared, the US government offered him asylum, but he declined. The king had declared long ago that he would never abandon Luang Prabang. As the heart of Laos, he vowed to stay here until the end.

Since the rain isn’t very heavy, I exit the royal residence to peruse the palace grounds. Walking on the grass near the back, I find an old weather beaten tennis court. The king himself enjoyed playing tennis here, a sport he learned while attending school in France as a youth. With the net gone, this court hasn’t been used in years. 

Red Prince (in black) with Ho Chi Minh and other communists

Behind the palace is the Mekong River, and to the other side is the king’s garage. I head in to see what kind of wheels the king favored. Inside, I’m amused at his choices of automobiles. Besides an old Landcruiser and a Citroen without headlights, there are three American cars. Two are full size Lincoln Continentals from the 50’s and 60’s. Except for the red logos of the three headed elephant painted on the doors, they are all white. His poor chauffeur must have spent a lot of time wiping mud off of the pristine white finish, since Luang Prabang had few paved roads back then. 

The last of the royal rides is, egads! It’s a four door 1950’s Ford Edsel. I’m surprised that the king held onto such a low quality vehicle. Then again if you think about it, the Edsel makes a fitting metaphor for America’s commitment to Laos. In the beginning, it was big, and it was powerful. But it wasn’t popular, it wasn’t dependable in the long term, and in the end it was a failure. 

Laotians sell food and drinks outside the royal palace, now an official national museum

I open my umbrella, and head back out into the rain. Leaving the palace, I head down the long driveway, passing between tall palm trees and smartly trimmed hedges. This is the same route that the king took when he departed the palace for the last time. After the Pathet Lao forced him to abdicate in 1975, he was arrested and forced to leave his home for good. As the communist era in Laos began, the monarchy that had survived for 600 years, was gone in a flash. 

The only royal that retained any power with the communists was the Red Prince, who became their ‘front man’. As a member of the royal family, he gave the Pathet Lao legitimacy in the eyes of the populace. He was named the 'President of the People’s Democratic Republic of Laos', a position which held more symbolism than power. He had brought the neutralists hope that royalists and communists could rule in peace together. But they were fooled, since the real power behind the Pathet Lao wasn’t the Red Prince, it was the communist chief Kaysone Phomvihane.

As for the other former prince, Souvanna Phouma resigned as Prime Minister in 1975. He retired to Vientiane, where he died in 1984. His fate was far better than the rest of the royal family. After his forced abdication the king, queen and two other princes were imprisoned and sent into internal exile. They would never return to Luang Prabang. The last king of Laos, Savang Vatthana, died in a remote jungle prison camp, and the Laotian monarchy died with him. 

The communist government of Laos has never given an account as to what happened to all of these members of the royal family. How they met their tragic deaths in prison, remains a mystery to this day. 

GIANT TURTLE OF HOAN KIEM: FACT OR FICTION?

Hoan Kiem Lake is popular with couples. The flag marks Ngoc Son Temple.

Hoan Kiem is a lake in the very heart of Hanoi, part of the city's old quarter. I’m out for a morning walk by the lake, and it looks like a great day ahead of me. This is a wonderful time of the day to walk in Hanoi, traffic is still light, and I’m certainly not alone. In the cool of the morning, there are many other Vietnamese people circling the lake with me. Some are walking, some practice tai chi, and others do light calesthenics. I notice that most of the people around me are over 40, and they are all wearing western clothes, t-shirts and outfits for working out. This is a rare time that I’ve seen the conservative Vietnamese wearing shorts in public.

Local ladies practice a dance routine by the lake's shore

Flowers by the lake, with 'Turtle Tower' in the background

Locals by the lake, with bridge to the temple beyond

Many women’s groups also enjoy exercising here. I walk past one group of 30 or so Vietnamese ladies doing light aerobics to traditional music. Further along, another small group of ladies practice a dance routine, holding red Asian fans. Still another group works out with swords. I’ve never seen women swinging swords around before, so I pause to watch. It all looks rather dangerous, until they finish. That’s when they take their weapons, and by pushing downward at the point of the swords, they collapse. Their swords are telescopic, and could never be used to stab anyone.

I continue on smiling, as I pass a last group of older ladies dancing to a light routine, while each woman holds a small Vietnamese flag. The song on their boom box is an old Doris Day favorite, "Que Sera, Sera". I wonder, do these ladies even understand the words?

This placid lake I’m walking around isn’t just a place of exercise, it’s also a place of legends. A curious, well known legend in Hanoi, is that of the giant turtle of Hoan Kiem Lake. As the story goes, King Le Loi was out in a small boat on this lake in the 15th century. He carried with him a magical sword that he had used to defeat the occupying Chinese. A giant magical turtle appeared next to his boat, and took the sword into his mouth. The huge turtle then disappeared into the lake waters, returning the sword to its divine origin.

Thus the lake got its name. Hoan Kiem means, ‘restored sword’. As legends go, this one certainly has it’s doubters, especially with the bit about the giant turtle. The Vietnamese claim that this huge amphibian is still occasionally seen in the lake today, and that if you see the turtle, you will have good luck. It seems that Hanoi has something like a Vietnamese version of the mythical Loch Ness Monster.

Foreigners who live in Hanoi don’t believe the story, and many have their own theories about the legend, and the recurring sightings of the giant lake dweller. A western expat in a bar, claimed that in order to keep the legend alive, Vietnamese frogmen occasionally swim in the lake sporting a fake turtle shell on their back.

I look at Hoan Kiem, and it’s easy to have doubts. This lake is so small, and so polluted. Since it’s located downtown, the lake doesn’t even have a natural bank anymore, the lake shore is covered with bricks to prevent erosion. I doubt the frogman story, but this lake doesn’t even appear to be able to sustain live fish, let alone a giant turtle.

Hoan Kiem has a couple of small islands, and later I cross the Rising Sun Bridge to reach the larger island, home of the Ngoc Son Temple. This resembles other small Buddhist temples I’ve seen, until I spot a display case outside. Incredibly, it holds a stuffed, giant turtle. About six feet long, it was reportedly found in the lake in 1967. I didn’t think that turtles that large could exist in modern times, it looks like something out of a dinosaur movie. 

I look closely at the old amphibian; it’s untouchable behind that thick glass. Is it really genuine? It appears so. Anyway, I doubt that someone would go to the extent of building a faked taxidermist's turtle, to try and keep alive an old legend.

I imagine that Hoan Kiem's turtles must be all gone now, since the lake is polluted even worse nowadays, then it was when this giant specimen turned up. If there ever were turtles in Hoan Kiem to begin with, they’re probably all extinct by now.
Another day as I walk by the lake, I look out towards the other small island in Hoan Kiem. Even smaller than the island that has the Ngoc Son Temple, the only feature on this tiny island is a small stone pagoda, known as 'Turtle Tower'. I peer across the water, and today I notice something different. On the edge of the island facing me, there appear to be a number of rocks. I recall that they weren’t there before.

I think to myself, is it possible? Can it be? No, it can’t be! I race back to my room, and grab my heavy camera with a 300mm telephoto lens. Then I run back to the lake shore for a better look. I put the camera on full zoom, peer through the viewfinder, and there they are.

Turtles! Not one, not two, but three turtles, sitting on the island’s shoreline on a sunny day. Seeing is believing. There are still turtles living in Hoan Kiem, and I snap a few photos for proof. They weren’t giants by any means, but the largest turtle appeared to be almost two feet long. So, despite the doubters and the pollution, this little lake can support life.

Maybe there is something to that old Vietnamese legend after all. 

Turtles at lower right, on the island

Close-up of turtles on the island. They do exist!!

FORBIDDEN CITY FOR KINGS

Ngo Mon Gate, entrance to the 'Forbidden' City

When we think of Vietnam’s leaders, the first that come to mind are Ho Chi Minh and the communist party. But that's only recent history. Once upon a time, Vietnam was ruled by emperors. These kings were later conquered by the French, but even under colonialism the monarchy continued to be an integral part of Vietnamese society. There were many kings, queens and dynasties who ruled Vietnam; they often came to power after kicking out the occupying Chinese. Gia Long, the first emperor of the final dynasty, moved Vietnam’s capital to Hue in 1802. I’ve arrived in this imperial city, and I’m on my way into the emperor’s old fortress, the Hue Citadel.

A taxi takes me across the Perfume River, and on the far side I’m dropped at the Citadel gate. This is the first of a series of old fortified walls that I have to pass through, until I reach the more interesting areas within. The original outer wall of the old city stretched for six miles in length.

Crossing an open field I reach a moat, and gaze up at Ngo Mon Gate, the entrance to the Imperial City. It’s an impressive stone gate, three stories tall. With it’s round tiled rooftops, dragon like figures, and triple entrances, the elaborate gate resembles the entrance way to the Forbidden City in Beijing. The Vietnamese hated Chinese domination and fought to expel them, but that didn’t stop them from building their palaces and gates with Chinese architecture.

Dragon decor of Ngo Mon Gate

I climb the steps to the second floor viewing area, situated right above the gate’s center. It’s an excellent view, as it should be. This is where the emperor stood for official royal functions, presiding over ceremonies and parades. This also happens to be where Vietnam’s monarchy officially ended. The last emperor Bao Dai, officially abdicated to Ho Chi Minh’s government here in 1945, ending centuries of Vietnamese royal tradition. By that time Bao Dai was just a figurehead king anyway, and his abdication didn’t sit well with the French, who were absent due to Japan’s invasion during World War II. But the French returned to Hue soon after, as they sought to retake their colony.

Looking around at the royal interior, I spot a sign that reads, “NGO MON MONUMENT RESTORED WITH JAPANESE AID VIA UNESCO. The impressive gate appears quite old, but the fact is, not much of what I see is original. That’s because this royal gate was heavily damaged in fighting between the North Vietnamese Army and American forces, during the Tet Offensive of 1968.

Hue is only about 40 miles from the former De-Militarized Zone, which used to divide North and South Vietnam. As Vietnam’s old capital, it became a prime target for a surprise offensive. When fighting started most of Hue was guarded by ARVN troops, and the invading North Vietnamese Army (NVA) and Viet Cong (VC) quickly overwhelmed them. Within hours they took most of the city, establishing a base here within the citadels heavy walls.

A great deal of blood was spilled to fly different flags from the tallest flag pole in Vietnam

Beyond a parade ground across from Ngo Mon Gate, is a three tiered fortress tower made of dark stone. A massive 37 meter tall flagpole rises from the center, the tallest flagpole in Vietnam. Since Hue is the former capital, the flagpole is highly symbolic. When the communists took the citadel, they tore down the yellow and red flag of the Republic of Vietnam, and replaced it with the Viet Cong colors. The fighting in Hue was so heavy, and resistance so fierce, that US troops were not able to remove that flag until 3 1/2 weeks later. 

This flagpole is so tall and heavy, that it was once knocked over by a typhoon. Strong guy wires hold it in place now to keep it from falling over again. The dark stone of the fortress contrasts with the bright red color of the huge flag flying there now, the current flag of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. I can’t walk up the tower, since this part of the citadel is totally blocked off and locked up. Maybe they’re afraid someone will try and tear the flag down again.

Elephant in the old Citadel. Can I have a ride too?

Beyond the gate as I enter the Imperial Enclosure, I read an entrance sign posting rules for visitors. One part reads, “NOT TO BRING IN THE DYNAMITE, POISON AND WEAPON”. I see their signage crew needs help with their English grammar.

Unlike the more crowded streets of Hue, in here is a vast courtyard, and I’m immediately met with an unexpected sight. Walking down a wide sidewalk heading straight towards me, is an elephant! Well, there’s something you don’t see everyday. The handler is sitting behind the elephant’s ears astride the great beast’s neck. He must fancy himself as some kind of Asian cowboy, since he wears a cowboy hat. Behind him, two westerners enjoy the ride on a saddle-like chair.

The points of the great elephant’s tusks have been sawed off, probably for safety. Well, the emperor used to ride elephants here in the Imperial City, so why not visitors? I step aside while the elephant lumbers slowly past me, and I continue on ahead to explore the old citadel.

Where the palaces once stood, there are now green fields

I reach the symbolic center of the Citadel, the Forbidden Purple City. Similar to  the original Forbidden City in Beijing, it's far smaller in size. Here is where the palace residences were for the king, queen and his concubines. It’s neither forbidden, nor purple any longer, since the royal residences are completely gone. In their place there are only two long depressions in the trimmed grass. They ought to change it’s name to the ‘Green City’.

The palaces were totally destroyed long ago, and even the wrecked bricks have been removed. Unlike Ngo Mon Gate, these royal buildings weren’t destroyed by American firepower in 1968. During the colonial years, the royal residences and other Imperial City buildings were destroyed by the French. This happened first as the French sought to force Vietnam’s emperor under their thumb, then again later to put down independence uprisings. During the days of the Tet Offensive, the media blamed the American military for destroying the heritage of Hue as they retook the Citadel from the NVA and the VC. The fact was, many of the Citadel’s old historical buildings had already been destroyed by the French, decades before.

In the post-war era, what was left of the royal buildings continued to decay,

Restoration work on war damaged buildings continues throughout the Citadel

since the communists had no interest in preserving royal history. But when tourists returned to Hue, they quickly learned that foreign visitors with money would pay to see the royal Citadel, so restorations commenced. 

On a covered walkway adjacent to the residence site, I see restorations in progress. Craftsmen labor up on bamboo scaffolding. Women in blue uniforms and conical hats wheel around carts full of bricks. Hue was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1993, and the long process of rebuilding continues. But I wonder, after being pummeled by artillery from two western armies, over two different centuries, was there really that much left here to preserve? In any case, the glory of Vietnam’s former royals are being restored, though it will never be completely rebuilt in our lifetime.

Atop the back wall of the enclosure, I watched restoration work on a bombed out royal building. The ceiling was gone, along with one entire wall. I watched one laborer as he carried construction materials up to the site. He couldn’t have

Once destroyed by war, the Mieu Temple has been restored

known I was watching, because after he set down his load, he stepped right up to the old royal building, and urinated on the wall. I guess he didn’t take any pride in his work.

I find some finished restoration work at the Mieu Temple, where they honor the memory of all the Nguyen Dynasty’s kings. Looking at the the layered yellow tile work, and mythical creatures on the rooftop, I'm again reminded of China. It’s painted red, the good luck color, and yellow, the color of royalty.

I remove my shoes upon entering, since for Vietnamese Buddhists, this is revered ground. Inside are pictures, shrines and incense for each of the emperors. I wonder why there are no monks here. 

I exit this impressive looking restored temple, to find that the building next to it remains a ruin. Only the front and rear facades are  still standing. Metal supports hold up what’s left, so that they won’t collapse any further. Some impressive restoration work has been completed, but much remains to be done.

This ruin that was wrecked in the war awaits restoration

***CONTINUED IN NEXT POST: More on the Battle in the Hue Citadel***