DRUG OVERDOSES BY BACKPACKERS

Backpackers relax on guesthouse terrace, on less than scenic Boeung Kak Lake

“I have to go support my heroin habit.”

I never expected to hear those shocking words in Cambodia. I heard this on the street, in the Lakeside neighborhood of Phnom Penh. The young man who said it was a British English teacher, on his way to work. To this day, I don’t know if he was kidding or not.

Lakeside is where all the cheapest accommodations are for the thousands of foreign backpackers who come visiting the city. It’s also where many of the foreign drug addicts live. Here there are cheap restaurants, cheap bars, and cheap guest houses. Plop down your backpack, and you can have a bed for five dollars a night. It also happens to be where the drug dealers come to prey on gullible backpackers.

I originally came here this morning looking for cheaper lodging, on recommendation of my buddy Kenny. He's a former US Marine, and Vietnam War veteran I met in Saigon. As he's a Southeast Asian nomad, I had run into him downtown on one of his swings through Cambodia to visit his Khmer girlfriend. Kenny recommended to me a hotel in Lakeside. But I’m finding this borough isn’t what I expected.

Most of the guesthouses here are built on stilts, backed up on Boeung Kak Lake. That sounds ideal, but the lake itself isn’t very picturesque, mainly because it’s so polluted.

This lake north of the downtown is one of the main destinations for area drainage during the rainy season. Unfortunately, developers have taken over much of the area's land. With money on their minds rather than good sense, the developers plan to fill in the entire lake. Environmentalists are concerned that this will cause even more flooding in Phnom Penh during the rainy season.

The shady Lakeside neighborhood of Phnom Penh

After a spaghetti lunch in a local restaurant, I step out in the street, to be greeted by a drug dealer. Then another. And another. It seemed that about every ten steps, somebody was trying to sell me drugs. I politely decline. I recall that Kenny likes to smoke marijuana now and then; now I know why he stays in this neighborhood.

I shouldn't be surprised that local pushers throng to Lakeside, since there are plenty of  hippie backpackers that stay here. Unfortunately, a few of them don't leave Cambodia alive.

Backpackers who smoke marijuana occasionally decide to try something new, with tragic results. They’ll ask the corner pusher for cocaine. Eager for money he agrees to get them cocaine, although he doesn’t know much about anything except marijuana. So he goes to look for a white powdery drug, and he ends up bringing back pure heroin. The backpacker goes back to his cheap guest house, and is dead by morning. The next morning, the hotel cleaning lady enters the room, and screams when she discovers his cold dead body. More than one foreign backpacker has ended up dead this way.

In another incident, the body of a backpacker was found floating out in Boeung Kak Lake. But this wasn’t a drowning accident, it was an overdose. My expat friends tell me that local police charge a guest house hundreds of dollars to remove a corpse. After the hotel staff found the foreigner's body dead from an overdose, they wanted to avoid this expense, so they dumped the corpse in the lake. So much for respect for the dead.

Back in the 1990’s there were occasional deaths of foreign backpackers, kidnapped and killed by the Khmer Rouge. Thankfully, they are no more. Today, backpacker deaths in Cambodia are self-inflicted.

View of guesthouses on Boeung Kak Lake

WHERE GUERRILLAS ATTACKED THE HIGHWAY

The edge of the Plain of Jars. Some Hmong fighters still hide out in the remote northern mountains.

The last Lao passengers climb aboard our bus in Luang Prabang. I’m anxious to get started, as we have a 10 hour drive ahead to get to the remote province of Xieng Khuang. Like most bus stations, this is a drab place. At least it’s boring until the last rider gets on, as he carries very unexpected baggage! 

He's carrying a Kalashnikov assault rifle! This Laotian teenager with a peach fuzz moustache has one of the world's deadliest weapons in his hands. I watch as he slowly walks down the aisle towards me, stopping right at my side. Then he casually puts the AK-47 on the shelf overhead, and sits down behind me. 

Across the aisle, a curly haired French backpacker listening to his MP3 player stares at this process, totally wide eyed. The look on his face is something between stunned and confused. Until this moment, he has probably only seen an AK-47 rifle in the movies. 

As it turns out, the heavily armed young traveler isn’t a guerilla, he happens to be an armed guard for the bus company. His presence isn’t really needed here in Luang Prabang though, since the town is safe enough. I recall seeing a few policemen relaxing outside a police station, and they carried no weapons at all. The reason for the armed guard’s presence, is due to trouble on the highways ahead of us. 

Traditional homes in the highlands

Back in 2003 a bus traveling on Route 13 was ambushed. 10 Laotians were killed, as well as two Swiss cyclists. An attack on another bus south of Luang Prabang later that year left 12 more dead and 31 injured. Both attacks were believed to be by Hmong rebels hiding out in the highlands. These were probably revenge attacks, after Hmong civilians were killed by security forces. Hoping to keep the existence of these rebels quiet, the Laotian government tends to write them off as ‘bandits’.

These highway attacks took place before the Laotian government began an amnesty program for the Hmong rebels. Many of them finally came down from the mountains and gave up their weapons, but not all of them joined the amnesty. There are still some Hmong fighters hiding out in the remote hills. As I had already heard explosions one night in Vang Vieng, its evident that the army is still pursuing the holdouts in the mountains. With fewer rebels around these days, the roads have been quiet recently. 

The driver starts up the old bus engine, and we head east into the highlands. The little guard behind me stretches out across two seats, and goes to sleep. He’s certainly not the type of security guard to be vigilant. If our bus ends up getting attacked today, he would have to wake up, stand up, grab his weapon off the shelf, and then load it with the the ammunition clip he carries in his pocket. Only then, could he return fire. With him snoozing behind me, I’m hoping this will be an uneventful trip. 

We make good time as we ascend into the highlands. Although only two lanes, the highway we're on is well paved. The surrounding hills may not be completely pacified, but road infrastructure in Laos has improved considerably since the war years. 

Stopover town on the highway from Luang Prabang to Phonsavan, once a dangerous route

One reason for this improvement, has been road construction completed by their northern neighbors, the Chinese. Road construction by Chinese in Laos goes all the way back to the war, when Red Army road crews built roads in the far northern provinces. During all those years of bombing, by the US Air Force, American pilots were careful not to target Chinese road crews. Washington did not want to risk increased intervention from the China communists. 

These days its Chinese capitalists that are coming in droves. Today, many Chinese companies are running projects all over Laos, and they've returned to road building. Chinese road crews are completing a key trade route, a main artery running through northern Laos, that will connect China to Thailand. It’s real progress to have commerce as the driving force behind road construction, rather than war. 

Hours later, I awaken from a nap feeling familiar pressure in my ears. We are gaining altitude, and my ears are popping. Looking out the window, the mountains are giving way to rolling green hills. We have arrived on a high plateau. I’m getting my first view of the geographical place, known as as the 'Plain of Jars'. The temperature is thankfully cooler now, since we have climbed to an altitude of 3000 feet. At around 400 square miles, this highland plateau has always been strategic to northern Laos. For that reason, some of the worst fighting of the Secret War of the 1960's - 1970's took place in these rolling hills. 

Continuing across the highlands, we finally arrive outside Phonsavan, capital of Xieng Khuang Province. Fortunately there was no need for our armed guard to load his weapon on this trip. As we park he takes on another duty; unloading baggage. He hands me my suitcase, I grab a tuk-tuk, and head into the highland town. There's a great deal to be seen here on the Plain of Jars.