Laos

Laos.
January 24, 2017

in 2015 six scientists searching for new species identified a previously unknown snake just a few km from where we are now, Luang Prabang, Laos.  The new species, parafimbrios lao, is just one of over a hundred new species recently identified as part of an ongoing international project to better define the ecology of the Mekong River.  Today, following a six hour expidition by boat on the Mekong, I would like to offer my contribution to this effort, the previously undescribed Laotian Sand Cow (see grainy photo).  While the sand cow is here proposed as a new species it was not a previously unknown animal, as was the snake, but its status as a separate species has heretofore remained unnoticed, as were the 4 different species of giraffe, historically assumed to be a single species; a paradigm overturned only a few months ago.  The sand cow emerges from the jungle in the morning to browse on the sandy riverbanks, where we spotted several on our journey.  It appears to subsist on sand and an occasional gulp of rivermud.  This impoverished diet no doubt explains its lethargy.  In several hours of, admittedly intermittent, observation, no movement beyond an accasional tail swish was observed.  DNA sequencing will be required to establish the suspected evolutionary link to the now endangered dugong, or sea cow.

Luang Prabang turns out to be the very model of a modern major tourist town.  The streets swarm with Westerners, divided roughly equally between English and French speakers. Most of the native population appears to be employed in service to the tourists.   Markets proffering knick knacks made in the surrounding villages fill the streets night and day, manned (more accurately womaned) by eager natives hoping to sell something for a dollar or two to the passing parade of blasé millionaires (a million Laotian kip will set you back a little over a hundred dollars).  I am struck by the high ratio of sellers to the value of the merchandise.  If Walmart worked like this there'd be a separate salesperson standing next to each little rack of t shirts or bin of apples.  Oxfam says the world's eight richest people have as much wealth as the world's poorest 3.6 billion people, a fact that's hard to fathom.  But the stark poverty of these market workers makes it a little easier.

Still we didn't come for the knick knacks, and neither did anyone else.  We came looking for a remote (which it really was before they built the airport), beautiful, old Lao city full of history, elegant temples, great food (don't miss the fresh grilled Mekong fish with lemon grass and tamarind sauce) and, of course, third world prices. And if you can look beyond the throngs of tourists (including ourselves) you can still find most of that.  Did I mention the stunning mountain setting, and the perfect weather?  Apparently one of the unexpected benefits of a calcified one-party state is that the government can mandate the preservation of the architectural character of the town if it so chooses, and it has.  The result of that, along with a coveted UNESCO blessing, is that Luang Prabang is almost perfectly preserved, and remains free of the usual contemporary atrocities that despoil so many otherwise lovely spots around the world (it's amazing, all the things you can do with bamboo).  But it's not nirvana; the coffee's weak, and they don't seem to have gotten the news that chocolate is one of the five major food groups.

It was pretty easy in December to feel a bit smug telling all your friends you're leaving them in the cold to take off for southeast Asia for the winter, until you get here and start meeting the real travelers.  It makes our long anticipated adventure seem a little pathetic by comparison.  Take, for example, the Dutch couple we met in Vietnam who are in the midst of an 18 month jaunt that will next take them to Perth, where they plan to buy a 4wd vehicle and sell it three months later in Sidney.  Or the American pair, youngsters really, who've given up on Manhattan after a few years of trying and are returning to their native Atlanta, but not before taking advantage of the dislocation to travel around Asia for six months.  There seems to be a bottomless well of stories like these among the milling crowds, mixed in with the college kids on a break year and the do-gooders teaching English or computer coding to unschooled children in remote villages.  It all makes a person feel like he ought to have constructed a lot more interesting life for himself.