What it does have is an archaelogical curiosity called the Plain of Jars. Strewn about the northern part of the country are thousands of giant stone urns, some taller than me and weighing several tons.
There's nothing in the jars with which they can do radiocarbon dating, so nobody knows when they were built, or by whom, or why. One jar at Site 1 has a crude carving of a human figure, but thus far it's the only decoration or adornment that's been found on any of the jars at over 60 sites.
The three main sites are just outside the town of Phonsavan, a one-street town which seems exist for tourists who come to town for one day -- and only one day -- to see the jars. This photo is from Site 3, which sits on a hill outside of town.
In the foreground are rice paddies. In the distance, on the hills, are white Buddhist stupas.
This is probably the main tourist attraction in Laos. I could see for miles in every direction. When we left to return to the van I lingered a few minutes to let the group get ahead of me. I could hear their voices ... and nothing else. There was no noise from cars or tractors or machines of any kind. All I could hear were cowbells and roosters off in the distance. I couldn't help but wonder how quiet it is where there aren't any tourists!
But in this peaceful, idyllic setting were constant reminders of the hell these people lived through. Bomb craters are everywhere. At Site 1 we visited a cave where local people hid during the US bombardment during the Secret War.
Our trip included a couple other stops. We went to see how Lao whiskey is made. It's a rice whiskey, similar to Japanese sake. I was expecting some sort of brewery-type facility. Not exactly.
The shack in the back is the brewery and the toothless crone in the center is the brewmaster. (She was a riot.) A jug of "Lao Lao" and a shot glass was passed around so we could all have a sample. Or two. Or three. And on the way back to town we stopped so that anyone who was so inclined could have their empty water bottles filled. (With whiskey, naturally.)
I felt ashamed and humbled by the way the Lao people are making the most of the remnants of the Secret War. There are metalsmiths who take recovered ordnance and make tools and utensils out of it, turning swords into plowshares, as it were. Bomb casings are used as planters. And so on.
What do you do, then, with the scavenged remains of a Soviet tank? The cockpit is resting at the bottom of the hill next to the tree on the left. It was used as a chicken coop at one time, but it's currently being employed as part of the fence.
Posts
