Yep, that’s me messing around with thousand-year-old archeological artifacts.

The town of Phonsavan is isolated. It nearly has two main streets, fully equipped with buffaloes strolling down it. A fresh market, a bus stop, two shops trying to  pass as falang restaurants. It’s best described as a hole. And I simply loved it!

It reminded me of the Australian rural landscape. The red earth. The cropped wheat-like fields and rolling hills. The people, made up of other ethnic groups, looked more like me. The villages were coming to the end of the rice harvest. I could sit looking over the plains all day. In one way it made me home sick, and in another way less so. I cannot wait until I can buy my own little bit of land and live in my self-built mud-brick mansion!

Still, it’s easy for me to say that for a weekend trip. Kat is living there for 6 months. The Pho (noodle) is great but three times a day?!

Being closer to the reality of UXO was frightening. I am so lucky not to have to worry about such things if I want to do something as simple as prepare a veggie bed or dig a dam in my backyard. It’s nothing short of heart-breaking to think of the land so littered with bombs, and also that Australia had a part to play in it.

Recently I came across Willy Bach’s site (http://www.angelfire.com/wi/poetryantiwar/) Warning: block pop ups and the background sound makes the site slow to load. It tells his account where he unknowingly participated in the Secret War in Laos. There are his poems, and some interesting links. You have to read it for yourself.

Also check out Photos from Xieng Khouang.