The city of Luang Prubang is at the confluence of two rivers and chock full of Buddhist monasteries and old temples. Every morning the monks in orange robes walk the streets collecting their alms. Architecture is always appreciated and the buildings in L.P. were different than those I’ve seen elsewhere. A reserved sense but if you look closely, there are a lot of details to be seen. I found a decent guesthouse but had some concerns about it as there was a rooster cage right outside the window. It did not disappoint and started crowing at 4 a.m.

The tourist activities outside of town held no interest. I’ve seen so many waterfalls in my life that paying to see one is out of the question. Yeah, I appreciate them but I’m not sure how this one would be any different. I was probably the only one in town not to see it. The days were spent reading books along the Mekong River and periodically visiting the temples and sitting quietly. It seemed a good way to pass the time.

I met a young monk and he told me of his life and duties. We tend to think of a monk as having a lifetime commitment and for the Buddhists, it can be, but for many it’s something they do for a while and then move on with their lives. He liked being a monk but said “I don’t want to do this for the rest of my life.” He invited me to visit his village the following day but I declined. There was a growing distance between people and myself.

I had been feeling distant from other travelers over time. I would see them in pairs or groups and feel a million miles away from them as if they were from a different part of the universe. A friend back home, Marc, told me that the travelers in Asia would be more interesting than most places and that just wasn’t true. But what was different is that I was starting to feel separated from the Laotians too. I started to question whether I should be there or even traveling. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling and not something easily understood.

Back at the guesthouse, the rooster was once again making noise, which can be difficult for a light sleeper. In the morning owner said while rubbing his stomach, “Chicken make noise. No sleep. Tonight we eat.” Well, that’s one way to solve a problem. I went out for breakfast at a place where I would become friendly with a waiter, Kye, who would give me some suggestions of where to visit because as far as travel was going, I was aimless. Plus, I kept going back there as they made the best egg rolls on the face of the planet.

And so the days passed with lots of time spent reading along the river, going out for egg rolls, spending some time with Kye, and then some more reading. I bought some blank paper and sat along the Mekong in a restaurant garden and wrote computer programs that create artworks. I’ve been doing this work for many years and sometime it’s good to write when you can’t immediately hop on the computer. It makes you patient and very careful what you’re writing.

The temples in LP aren’t soaring like one sees in Europe but are low lying and generally fairly small. They tended to be ornately designed with patterns on the walls and if you spend the time, you see so much more than you do at first glance. A monk at one of the wats (temples) saw me and said that he noticed I appreciated the buildings in a way that most people don’t and invites me to return in the evening for an hour-long event. While walking there in the evening, I turned back as I didn’t want to be around people. If you’re in Asia and don’t want to be around people, you shouldn’t be in Asia. This was really starting to become a problem. The only person I care to be around in the whole city was the waiter Kye. Something was pushing me to leave.

LP was a pretty town and it was nice to spend time along the rivers relaxing and dreaming up works of art but it came time to leave for Muang Ngoi. I wasn’t too sure about the place but it has just opened up for outsiders two days before as tourist facilities required government approval. A few people mentioned it, so it was time to give that a try. I really had no idea nor aim, so, why not?