MEKONG RIVERFRONT AND OLD TOWN NIGHT MARKET

Laotian paddles traditional boat on Mekong River at Luang Prabang

This afternoon I'm strolling through the historical neighborhood of Luang Prabang, in the old capital of Laos. Walking downhill, I arrive at the famed Mekong River. Having been on it before, it's as though I’m reunited with an old friend. It doesn’t disappoint; I’m treated to another fantastic view. The majestic Mekong flows before me, and beyond it are ancient forest covered mountains. Since the sun has returned the colors are bright, and the intense green colors of the jungle blanketed hills really stand out. 

There are no tourists around this serene scene, so I find a walkway down from Khem Khong Street to the riverbank. There are no speedboats here, like everything else in Laos, movement on the river is slow. There’s no bridge either, any one crossing uses their own small boats, or takes the ferry. With the ferries docked, river traffic is light. The only sound is the putt-putt of one longtail boat chugging upriver.

Buddhist monk by Mekong River, opposite Luang Prabang. This side of river was once part of Thailand.

Far downriver is Vientiane,  but unlike in the south, the Mekong is not an international border here. The bank on the far side here is now Laotian territory, but it wasn’t always this way. There was a time when the land west of the Mekong was part of Thailand. That back and forth change of frontiers led to border battles further west in the 1980’s. But all is calm now; the far bank is now home to quiet ethnic minority villages.

I head further down the Khem Kong river road, behind the royal palace. This was once the royal pier, a miniature port where the world’s dignitaries arrived by boat for official visits with the king. Back before there was a decent road between here and Vientiane, the Mekong was the main highway of Laos. 

Long houseboats lined up on the riverbank

With the rise of roads in Laos, river traffic has dropped, but there are still some boats that carry passengers up and down the Mekong. This area has become a passenger port for journeys on the river. A whiteboard outside the booking house promotes a two day boat trip to Huay Xai, a town upriver bordering Thailand. It claims that the trip is by ‘VIP boat’. I let out a chuckle, since I spoke with some travelers that dispute that classification. They arrived in Luang Prabang on that same river route, and the boat they traveled in was far smaller than they expected.

“It was so crowded, full of cargo and passengers, there was little room to spare,” a young lady complained. “We only slept a little, and that was in hammocks.” Well, when those backpackers travel, they like the true local experience. They certainly got one. 

I look down towards the river bank now, and there some passenger boats, but they are outnumbered by much larger craft. There are more than 20 blue houseboats, all lined up on the bank, one right after 

A family lives on this houseboat

another. This part of the shoreline has been transformed into a floating residential area. I’ve never seen houseboats like this before, long and narrow, most are more than 80 feet in length. This makes for affordable housing, in an exclusive neighborhood. These boats are docked next to the most expensive land in northern Laos, and their rent to dock here is  probably quite low. Some of these families seem to do well; a number of the rooftops are adorned with solar panels and satellite dishes. 

Still, this isn’t a very sanitary lifestyle. I see a few children playing about, and laundry is drying in the windows. The laundry water and the bath water both come from the river. Unfortunately the river is also the neighborhood toilet. 

Leaving the river I go to check out more of the town’s commerce, so I walk up the hill into the heart of this historic town. I notice Laotians walking into a market resembling a barn, and I follow them in. Inside is a market not for tourists, but for local folk. Booth after booth is selling cheap clothes, costume jewelry and pirated DVDs. 

Old basketball court is now a market

The ceiling is unusually high for a local market, and looking up, I notice familiar hoops hanging from each end. This barn-like building wasn’t originally a market at all, it was a basketball court. Given that basketball is an American game, I wonder if these old backboards were installed when pilots of the CIA's Air America used to be here during the war. Since most Laotians are fairly short, they don’t have much use for a game favoring tall people. At least they’re putting the building to good use with the market. Not to miss a place to display their merchandise, one vendor has hung her colorful t-shirts from the far hoop. 

Leaving the market, I turn onto the main street of the town’s old part, Sisavangvong. Passing the palace I visited earlier, I reach the best preserved section of town. There are French shophouses, cafés, popular restaurants, and stores selling works of local artisans. And yet, there is a distinct, un-Laotian feel to this street. Also occupying these old buildings are travel companies and internet cafés. The foreigners have invaded.  

Looking around, I see Laotians on Sisavangvong have been outnumbered by white foreigner tourists. Walking down the busy street, I hear German, French, Swedish, and various English accents. In 1995 Luang Prabang was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site, which helped to preserve the old French colonial houses. After the war Laos was a forbidden land for foreigners, but they have come back to Luang Prabang in droves. 

Passing one tour company, I pause to read the elaborate placard out front. It advertises elephant rides in the countryside, a favorite of foreign visitors. Ride an elephant for a couple hours, or all day. For those who want to spend even more time with the great Asian elephants, they advertise a mahout school for $140. In learning the mahouts ways, you are taught the basics to be an elephant driver, or handler. The introductory course takes three days. 

Local vendors set up for Night Market in Old Town Luang Prabang

Or if you prefer an old fashioned jungle trek like the colonial explorers used to do, you can take a four day elephant caravan into the Hongsa Forest. That will only set you back $800 a head. 

Walking on, another elephant tour company advertises this: “Three days trek to visit old opium fields”. 'Old' opium fields? Really? Are they saying that there aren’t any more new ones? 

I head back to the guest house to rest, but there's more coming in the evening. Sisavangvong is known for its night market, and I return later to check it out. 

This is actually my second time to the night market; I had seen it five years before. It was a unique night market back then, the street was closed to traffic, and each vendor had their wares laying out in the open on the roadside. There were no tables, their goods were laid out on the ground on top of colorful woven blankets. Each lady vendor had only a small light bulb to brighten their merchandise beneath the moonlight. 

Lady vendor smiles at customers in Luang Prabang Night Market

Many ethnic minority women came in from the countryside to sell their goods, some of them working with a baby still strapped on their back. There was a wide selection of Buddhist statues, incense and silver jewelry of traditional designs. The best wares were the hand woven fabrics and traditional clothing. These weren’t just cheap tourist souvenirs, this was real craftsmanship. Almost everything you could see was made by hand.

In the years since my last visit, I return to the night market to find it has expanded exponentially! There are now so many vendors here that they don’t just line the roadsides, they are crowded together out in the street. It'ss no longer open to the skies either, most vendors have erected pop-ups for the rainy season. They're all packed so tightly together on the road, that there isn’t much space to walk through. To make my way down the street through the pop-ups, I'm forced to duck up and down repeatedly like a target in an arcade game! 

2005: The Night Market before it became swamped with tourists

Having Luang Prabang declared a world heritage site has been a mixed blessing here. The old buildings have been preserved, that’s true, and business is booming. 

But I fear Luang Prabang’s old district has become a victim of its own success; its romantic allure is fading. The high season now has mobs of tourists here, with most businesses catering solely to foreigners. 

This historic street is losing the old world charm that made Luang Prabang a world heritage site in the first place. 

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*** 

BEAUTIFUL, HISTORIC HOI AN

The historic 'Japanese Bridge' in the Old Town of Hoi An

Hoi An is a seaside town unlike any other. Founded in the 16th century, this is the best preserved old port in all of Southeast Asia; a historical site for the ages. This has Vietnam's best preserved old buildings, which precede the French colonial times.

Traditional lanterns in an Old Town shop

During the war years, Hoi An was spared the destruction that raged throughout the rest of South Vietnam. By luck, or by design, neither side launched major attacks on this rare ancient town. That left Hoi An's rich heritage intact. It makes one wonder how the rest of Vietnam may have looked, if this beautiful country had not been so damaged by so many wars over the centuries

Hoi An was once a major trading port

As Hoi An lies is a coastal town which lies on the Thu Bon River, it does suffer one annual indignity: flooding. Unlike other old river towns, Hoi An lacks levees, so each spring the streets are flooded. However, it is flooding that the town's residents have learned to live with. The only movement seen in the town's streets is by boat.  

An artist does restoration work on a local Buddhist temple

Rather than the usual destruction of flooding I've seen before, the strong foundations and building materials in this old town are such that the old buildings are able to withstand the annual floods (for the most part.)

Colorfully painted boats in Hoi An's harbor

Once a major trading port, over the centuries the town had communities of Chinese, Cham and Japanese. Even the Dutch and Spanish were here. Today, it is distinctly Vietnamese.

Waitresses chat at the door of a Hoi An restaurant. The town is excellent for seafood.

Inside one of the oldest homes in town is a very heavy, old wooden pillar, with a series of marks on it. These are dated high water marks, showing the actual height that the flood reached that year. When the annual floodwaters subside, the town's residents clean up, and the tourists, return to Hoi An as usual. 

A night time view of Hoi An's waterfront

This burg has long been known as a 'must see' place for foreign visitors. With excellent restaurants craft markets, and comfortable scenic hotels, its reputation for tourism is well deserved. With romantic views, the Old Town is popular with honeymooners.

Hoi An has some of the best preserved architecture in all of Vietnam

This ancient little port was named a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1999, so the unique and historic old town should be spared from unscrupulous redevelopers in the future. With that kind of protection, this beautiful old town should remain relatively unchanged for future generations of tourists, who wish to come and experience the charm, the tranquility, of old Vietnam.

'The Old Man and the Sea' in Vietnam